Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This work contains sensitive subjects. Viewer discretion is advised.

This work contains themes centered on: Murder, accidental arson, grotesque depictions of body horror, the depths of human suffering, experiences of transmisogyny, internalized transmisogyny, internalized intersexism, implications of racism, underlying issues of misogyny, themes of predation, vague implications of past sexual traumas, internal turmoil at gender identity, generational trauma, graphic sexual content, self-harm in the form of hypersexuality and pushing past bodily limits, systemic oppression from an overarching governmental agency, past pseudo incestual abuse, vomit, and explicit gore.

Please be careful and put yourself first and foremost. This book does not seek to glorify any of these triggering topics but rather explores dark themes as a form of solace for those who have suffered the same as me.

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I plan to publish at least one chapter a week. Currently, as of the publishing of this page, 20 chapters are complete. However, I will not publish them all at once- especially because this will help motivate me to keep writing and have even more available for you all. This book is meant to be the beta copy. I will, upon completion, look for developmental editing, sensitivity readers, and then a copy editor.

Chapter Text

Nobody can ever possibly prepare you for the experience of a close friend of two years placing their hand on your back and spontaneously combusting into flames. With my impeccable luck these kinds of things were unfortunately less in the realm of fiction and more in the reality of my bubbling and blistering skin before Rachel could draw her hand away.

Unfortunately, the situation necessitated that I tried desperately to ignore the sounds of abject terror as the screams of anguish fell from my friend's lips. This was the fifth of my friends in the past month to die in such a manner. It was by far a more pressing issue to keep my legs pumping than to stop and try to save the roasting carcass whose life had faded before she even hit the floor. Even if it was the person I had promised myself I would save. From the corner of my eye, I could see Rachel crumpled to the floor as the sickening smell of burnt flesh chased me down. A small price to pay considering the inhuman visage of who had once been a close friend to both Rachel and I chased me down with far more vigor and energy. To say the absolute least, I had gotten myself into a pickle.

"Aster! Make it stop, stop.... Stop," there was truly no way to describe Rachel's voice, as her pale skin was cooked by the flames. Her beautiful dark hair was burned to cinders and her form became distorted as the creature that was no longer our "friend" ran past her. To be honest, I have no idea why Rachel or anyone at this point held onto the idea of Aster at all. She was never who she said she was, this was inevitable. If anything, the way she looked now was a more accurate display of who she was. This morning she had appeared mostly human until a parasite that had fused with her resulted in her quite literally bursting out of her skin and growing a good foot and a half in height in the middle of our meeting. This came with the lovely addition of abhorrent miscellaneous appendages of various lengths and uses. She had a total of three arms, a confusing mix of five legs that almost mimicked the base of hoop-skirted dresses and tendrils all made of skinless muscle and fat that was anything but a pleasant sight to behold.

There was no longer any hint of the large conventionally appealing imposing woman with her long dyed red hair and haughty attitude. Instead, it was a monstrous being hellbent on revenge for us daring to even question her methods to her face. Shedding her hair had been the least of the horrors of her uncouth transformation. I probably should have known something was incredibly wrong with Aster given my initial draw to her. That draw was one I had only ever felt in the absolute worst of my own past experiences. Alas, I was blinded by what I thought was a caring replacement for the mother that died long ago. Well, if the mother in question also initiated a pseudosexual or genuinely sexual relationship with her cult members, but that was neither here nor there.

Rachel's pitiful reaching out to what used to be the woman who had fucked us all over got her nothing, just as it always had. Disgust, betrayal, pain, and sadness, all burned in the back of my mind just as strongly as the flames which burned the life force away from my friend. The searing pain in my back from where the flames had touched me and the pain in my sides and legs from the amount of running was severely dulled by a mix of my adrenaline and my favorite trauma-induced form of severe dissociation. The dulling however didn't mean that anything would be easy and that my body wouldn't be at risk of deciding to no longer fucking work. Just as it did when I turned a corner and headed down an alleyway, launching myself into a gate and collapsing on the ground.

I tried for an embarrassingly long while to get myself up as the abomination approached me. She ran her fingers of exposed musculature over the walls of the building next to her, with fleshy tendrils reaching out to both sides as she swept for anyone to be her prey. As I watched her approach, my mind drifted to a vivid imagining of the sensation that touching her would cause, making my skin crawl and my stomach do somersaults. I cursed my autism for making sensory issues a deep concern, even when running from a literal flesh golem. I, of course, had nowhere to go and only avoided being spotted on the merit of falling and tumbling behind a dumpster. The very same which I found myself staying close to as terror wreaked havoc on my mind and body.

While I held my head in my hands, it suddenly occurred to me that my hair had been singed, and the majority of it had burned. For some reason I could not for the life of me justify, this was the absolute last straw before my vision blurred and hot tears fell down my face. It was always like this. Consistently I was faced with unspeakable horrors and for what, the mere crime of my existence?

It had been explained to me after the second Doomsday event I experienced by the IASEC agents who had helped me and my fellow survivors. I was an Omen, and this was my destiny. One I could never escape from no matter how much I desperately clawed towards and gripped onto normality. I was born from a world of incomprehensible horrors and I was forever bound to them. I suppose if I wanted to be a normal human, I should have simply chosen to be born in a town that wasn't being encroached on by a living cave system. I always would have some years of freedom, or more accurately an illusion of such, but it always came crashing down around me. Consequently, I would get cut and marred by shards of glass, but it would never be enough to kill me. What I had already known would happen was occurring right at this moment.

Aster's wild now crimson eyes shone in front of my own, her pupils dilated and darting about in a rapid motion. I was disgusted by her appearance, the mass of flesh loomed so close that I was almost forced to touch it. What surprised me even now was her voice. It rang out in an otherworldly way she had never sounded before today. It still captivated me in a rather dark and morbidly curious manner.

"We need a key. A key, we must leave. You. We need you." It was a truly mesmerizing voice, one layered with her sickly sweet human and an alien incomprehensible speech underlying her words. It seemed she and the parasite were talking as one. Isn't that lovely?

In truth, I had suspected as much when I came to realize the parasite even existed, but the experience of hearing them talk together solidified it in a way that I had never been properly able to conceive of in my mind. Its wrongness permeated through my body and shook me to my very core, the same wrongness that came when the cavern ate up my childhood town or the second place I lived in slowly had people's skin turn into gardens of alien plant matter. It simply defies the laws of everything that makes our world what it is.

"I already told you I don't have any keys! I don't even know what you're talking about!" I snapped, my watery eyes meeting hers for a short second before discomfort set in and I looked entirely away from her.

Eye contact was difficult, in my defense, and that applied to incomprehensible horrors as well. I suppose that Aster in this form was rather comprehensible, another tangent of little purpose. I could feel her hot breath on my face as she contorted her body, twisting her head to an impossible angle as her distorted voice hummed.

"Hmm... You seem to know not what you are. We know. You are the key, you will understand," she stated.

She moved closer, her awkward movement on five legs only unsettling me even further than I already was. This was unreasonably over the top for any creature whatsoever, how could this ever possibly be justifiable for something's physiology?

"I am not a fucking key– I'm a person. I don't know what delusions you hold but I am not your fucking chosen one, Aster. I won't do your bidding." With that, I went for my opportunity, slipping under her large legs and rushing off behind her. The creature let out a chitter and unnerving roar as it turned on its heels– did it even have those? –and stormed after me.

I just had to get far enough down the street to the plaza. I knew that the other IASEC agents and assets had already been on alert to everything I had borne witness to. This was courtesy of my testimony as well as the hidden camera I had been ordered to attach to my clothes for the purpose of surveillance. It was a typical procedure for rogue Omens who have dared to find a place they wished to settle down. That too was a joke. We could never settle, hell would always come for us.

Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I was acutely aware that I needed the right position so the others could get a shot off and get this woman out of my now much shorter hair. Maybe, had she been a better person, my determination to see her downfall may have been lesser. She had once been my friend and a woman I deeply looked up to, but she was also a woman who had spent years carefully crafting her persona to draw in the vulnerable. I was one of several who fell for her masquerade, only now with the addition of the power from the parasite has it become evident in a way I couldn't ignore.

"Harper. You know we are faster," the voice grated against my brain.

I pressed onward, darting through several alleyways and making sure not to get trapped or fall over this time. Soon enough I was stumbling my way into the clearing, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"D9 class in tail, get into position!" I could feel my voice breaking in the back of my throat as I ran as fast as I could, cursing my deformed legs as pain seared through my body once again. I saw between glimpses of the creature trailing me and the open plaza, numerous agents in deployment gear with weapons at the ready. I would make it for sure, and this behemoth of a creature was going to hell where it belonged.

I ran past the large decorative water fountain and continued making a beeline to get behind the area that would soon become a warzone.

"What a futile attempt to refuse to accept what you-" The words were cut off by an unholy shrieking as the agents opened fire.

I kept running, ducking for cover as a bullet whizzed past me, grazing the side of my arm. I hissed through my teeth a string of curses, ignoring it until I was able to duck behind one of the massive IASEC vehicles. The rain of bullets had no chance of piercing the armored side, allowing me to finally breathe in a sigh of relief and begin to by some small merit, calm my nerves.

As the adrenaline wore off on me I found myself falling to my hands and knees, emptying the entirety of the contents of my stomach over and over until all I could feel was the sting of bile at the back of my throat. A disgustingly pathetic display that I was sure I would never live down in my mind. I ignored the fact I had gotten the contents of my stomach all over my clothes and hands, rather focusing on trying to ground myself to the world around me, failing spectacularly as I seemed to step out of my own body.

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I realized in no short time that I had blacked out for a few seconds as I stumbled to my feet and wiped the bile off of my hands onto my pants. I shuddered at the feeling of my soiled clothes.

Looking around as I zoned into the world and all that was going on around me, I gained my bearings once again. My sense of self and perspective had shifted entirely as a somber feeling consumed my heart.

Of course, my dear Delta had tried his best, but eventually, even he would slip from reality and be called back into the void of our mind, allowing for another to slowly take his place. This time it was me, Storm. I fully grounded myself into reality as another round of gunfire sounded off and I instinctively protected my ringing ears. Certainly having heard as much gunfire as I had without protection would lead to nothing short of further damage to my hearing, wonderful.

"Harper, you can't hide forever!" the cacophonous voice boomed over the gunfire. The fact I heard it at all was truly a wonder in itself. It seemed she was still looking for me, or rather us.

Sometimes I hated the confusion that came with having Dissociative Identity Disorder. Truly, it was a wonder we managed to get this far when our amnesia could act up at such crucial moments. Then again, that was what the disorder existed for. If we could simply detach ourselves from the worst of situations and not have to confront the horrors we could function more easily in the moment. What you don't know can't hurt you, or so they say.

I looked around and my eyes focused on a man approaching me. It was becoming self-evident that I was starting to get out of the thick of things. Obviously, he wasn't exactly pleased with my disposition, filth is never a pleasant look on anyone. Between the torn, open sleeve slick with blood, cinders on my back and in my hair, and a fresh coat of vomit, I certainly looked as horrific as I felt.

With the absence of adrenaline present in my body to keep me from feeling the pain of my injuries and overworking of my deformed legs, I was in barely any state to be standing. I tried to slowly shuffle my way over, only to collapse once again again. My hands and knees hit the pavement hard as I skid slightly against the concrete, the sting of my skin as it peeled slightly under the pressure and warm blood trickled from my new additional wounds forced tears from the corners of my eyes.

"Asset Harper Brown, we need to relocate you, the other injured, and the survivors. The anomaly will be exterminated and the other instances contained here," the man sauntered his way into view. His blonde hair and piercing brown eyes cast on my wretched form, as he held a blanket draped over his shoulder.

I knew he was judging me, but I didn't care much for his thoughts. Survival was what mattered now. Those whom I loved were dead or simply never existed and I was a fool to believe in them.

His large frame towered over my own scrawnier appearance as he dropped to one knee, carefully parting my back away from the burnt flesh before he wrapped me in a blanket.

He continued being careful with my body to not aggravate my injuries, his gentle touch standing outin stark contrast to the consistent tumbling, falling, slamming, burning, and tearing my flesh had endured today. He aided me in properly getting me up from the ground and on my feet again, guiding me to an ambulance as he allowed me to lean on him for support. The blanket served as a barrier between the viscera of my wounds and vomit from his own body. This was an ambulance that undoubtedly would send me to a proper IASEC treatment facility.

I was human, but not enough for them to see me as anything but an anomaly. It didn't matter that I was the same species, had the same blood, the same anatomy, and the same education. Omens, the beings who were born in Doomsday events with a natural inclination towards reaching the core of anomalous events, were considered a risk that needed to be tracked and surveyed.

I glanced over my shoulder as he ushered me away, the form of Aster dripping with thick viscous blood as she was shot over and over, each jolt of her body spewing more blood from the impact. The behemoth was slowly being brought to its knees in a disheveled mess of intertwined appendages. It was rather unnerving to witness.

Apparently, the time I had heard her originally was during the first few rounds of gunfire... she's too far gone beyond just what she is. Even such a creature can't withstand the barrage of bullets. She wasn't even screaming anymore, she was just collapsing, weakly trying to move as her body was filled with lead.

"We'll explain everything to you when proper analysis is done on her corpse. This is a new anomaly for us," the man expressed, answering a question I had not the mind to form words to. "Mr. Brown, you really do have a knack for getting in some of the more severe cases according to your file. Of course, it's expected for Omens but you seem to get injured more than most. Or perhaps I'm judging too much based on this case."

"Yeah..." was all I could manage. I had a bad taste in my mouth from him referring to me as "mister," but I brushed it aside. I was a man after all, at least in part. I had always been too manish to be a girl according to everyone around me, so it hardly mattered. Perhaps it was just discontent due to the state of mind I was in. Surely when Delta was able to return to his natural position as the one mentally present there would be no worries of such frivolous matters. I had chosen to present more and more masculine as time had gone on anyway.

Was this not what I wanted, to be accepted as a man and not a failure of either a man or a woman?

I continued walking with him until he helped me up and into the ambulance. Once inside I found myself slowly limping over to a stretcher waiting for me and lying down. It was an odd way to do it, but considering I had been conscious it was easier than dragging the stretcher over to where I was huddled before.

The inside of the vehicle was incredibly sterile, I cringed to imagine the amount of cleaning that would need to be done due to me. Before the man left to deal with his other duties, a question fell from my lips. "Who are you... sir?"

"Victor, the head of IASEC here in Virginia," he grinned. "And your new boss."

That made a lot of sense. The higher-up agents were usually the ones privy to information regarding the Omens and seeing as the Doomsday I had been with had moved to a differing state and taken me with her, it should have been obvious I was going to be in new hands. I wasn't given the privileges that agents were after all. I was only an asset, a possession. Anomalies were never given the right to their freedom, they were too dangerous to the public. That's what they claim anyway, I could hardly hurt a fly myself.

My mind quickly snapped back to the conversation I had started. "I see, well it is quite nice to meet you, Victor. Sorry for the mess," I sighed.

He smirked, looking back at me and brushing his hair back. He clicked his tongue and slipped down from the back of the ambulance and onto the concrete beneath him, glancing back at me.

"I think we'll get along, Harper, see you when you recover." With his departure I finally closed my eyes, exhaustion taking over my body. My mind shot through the day's events, the months leading up to it, and the years when I had convinced myself everything was perfectly fine. The last thing I felt before I was taken by the dark haze of nightmares was the tears falling down my cheeks.

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I woke up with a start, taking in a deep breath and looking around the sterile room. I couldn't help squinting my eyes in the blaring fluorescent light. The last thing I remembered was hanging out with my friends celebrating my graduation from college with an associate's degree in my apartment. At least, the last clear memory. A memory I felt fully emotionally and mentally attached to was less common than would be healthy, but it was something nonetheless.

Awkwardly, bits and pieces of details were grasped. The events that had transpired to get me here were a puzzle that was gradually filled in. The others who were present in my mind whispered of a hell I had no memory of. Something happened, something bad, and I would have to leave all over again. I had to have a new home. I supposed that explained why I was here in a medical room with bandages adorning various areas of my body.

I leaned up, pressing my hands behind me and forcing my body to sit up, a full aching across my body greeting me and becoming more prominent with every movement. It wasn't easy trying to get my bearings as my mind swarmed and my eyes watered. The friends I so deeply loved once were gone, and yet I didn't truly know them. Their names sure, but their faces and identities were all but a distant memory to me. The last birthday I had, I knew for a fact some of them were there, but others didn't seem to be. Was I only present for that one day? What was my second newest memory?

I decided to instead pay more attention to myself and my body. My fingers felt around my body as they brushed up against bandages wrapping a portion of my back. The injuries I had a faint idea of getting seemed to be real at the very least. Physically present and a stark reminder of that which I had been deeply dissociated through.

I decided I might as well get out of bed. I slowly dipped my feet to the ground and carefully stood up, leaning against the bed for support. Clearly, this was a brilliant decision and not at all impulsive given the extent of my injuries. Of course, I didn't make it far, rather than collapsing to the ground I found myself freezing as I heard heels click against the floor and a man walked into the room. His messy blonde hair, brown eyes, and pale skin dotted with freckles that I could swear I had seen before caught me a bit off guard. He was an imposing figure, to say the least, and had a lot of musculature built up.

It was clear to me he was anything but a doctor and as I noticed the IASEC symbol on his shirt front, it occurred to me he may be one of the high-level squadron members. "Harper, it seems you're up," his voice was cheery as he glanced towards my direction. I could soon feel his gaze lingering on the noticeable stitching on my arm.

"Do I know you from somewhere? I apologize I tend to get a bit... confused," it isn't a lie, not fully. I never liked disclosing my condition, not a single individual in our muddled head cared to let it be known that something was different. Most people were never safe.

"I see. You're even less aware than the kid. Guess it's good to see one of the ones like you would be up and around, there's some level of stability in that. I'm Victor, your boss and the head agent of IASEC based here in Virginia," he spoke softly, seemingly doing what he could to not push me too far or intimidate me too much. I had some faint awareness of our true occupation, an asset for the organization built on International Anomalous Study, Extermination, and Containment.

I had to sometimes remind myself what IASEC was, being one of the alters who was far less aware of our typical experiences of high stress. I also quite often had to be reminded that being an Omen meant dealing with Doomsday anomalies, the main source of our various traumas and stressors. The definition had been drilled into me countless times from the handbook that I and every version of me in my mind carried consistently. Known as the absolute worst-case scenario, the projected loss of civilians or personnel is in the hundreds or thousands. These events are often tracked or latched onto by Omens, and are known to in of themselves create Omens. A rather redundant definition that could be better written but would have to work for the time being until IASEC cared enough to update the handbooks and change it.

"Uh huh, sorry. Again I forget... A lot," I mumbled, making my way over to the man and extending my hand. He took it in his hand and shook it with a firm grasp.

"Yeah, your file explains as much. You've been up and about a few times, though it seems you've got no clue of that. Most of the time you were pretty out of it," he explained. I nodded, bringing my hand up to my mess of hair and running it through the fuzzy mess. It didn't curl nearly as much when it was short like this. I wanted my hair to be long, the mess of curls that I was able to accomplish when it had gone down to the bottom of my neck was beautiful and I had been planning to grow it out further. So much for that, back to square one.

"I see... I guess it may be good to say what I remember... is the debrief something we can do now? I kinda wanna get it over and done with," I sighed. "I remember the facts well enough. It shouldn't be much stress."

"I believe that could work. It's been a few days and we have enough information to be able to parse through everything and get you a better explanation of the anomaly," his strict gaze met my weary one for a split second before I once again looked away. I hated eye contact, I really could not express how much I hated eye contact. Always had and always will.

"Alrighty, basic run down and all that of everything I know is probably best for this," I said. It didn't take long for me to launch into my thorough explanation of the events that had occurred, more so in a detached manner as it was something I didn't truly remember myself. Victor allowed me to explain, taking time to press me on a few details and try to squeeze as much information as possible.

This was made all the more annoying given I knew damn well that he had all the information already due to the recordings and the people working on my case, but whatever. Maybe there was something to it due to my personal point of view or input that he specifically found intriguing or useful. Maybe he just wanted to get a better understanding of how I viewed things to further update my file which was invasive in a way that no other paperwork could even hope to be.

"I will say you are wrong about some things," he said as he found a lull in my energetic and overzealous speech. "The parasite did not actually influence Aster to do any of what she did beyond spreading the infection to others. You yourself had to get some forms of the parasitic larva removed during the procedures, but I doubt they would have affected you much if they stayed. Omens tend to be exempt from a variety of things. Others though? Well, you saw them burst into flames, the parasites have a bit of an ability to self-immolate and they'll take their hosts down with them," he expressed, a hand reaching out, settling on my shoulder.

"I figured as much but what do you mean it didn't influence her? Certainly, it made her create the group! What about killing five of our friends? I can't imagine she ever would do that on her own, she's not that kind of person. Even beyond that, it doesn't make sense, why kill your members or friends, isn't that lessening resources? She wasn't that dumb either. There's just no way that there wasn't some additional-" I was quickly shot down, my words cut off by Victor's own.

"I hate to be blunt but she was a very conniving individual, the only reason she was physically capable of doing the level of harm she did was the parasite. The reason it happened was because of her will. We have... ways of knowing things. She merely chose to take advantage of her newfound powers, and that's what allowed for her to do what she did, basically. She manipulated you, long before she would have even had proper communication with the anomaly. She was never a good person and her death was a necessity for all of humanity," his words were harsh, and I didn't fully know what to make of them. I could understand the underlying truth and with the sincerity in his voice, there were clearly no tricks. However, I simply refused to believe it was possible for Aster, my Sister, to be that. She had promised me so much, saved me when I was at my lowest and even if she pushed my boundaries at times it was always for my betterment. She had to be, because what would I do if it had all been a lie?

"Sure her dying when she was as she was... it was a necessary evil but-" I was cut off once more by a deeply exasperated interjection as his temper rose, clearly unable to deal with my inability to accept the truth on such short notice.

"No Harper, you misunderstand. It was not evil for us to destroy that thing, she and the parasite were one, and they had no business being alive. Did you think we would just contain her forever? A fucking Doomsday? No. They're necessary to exterminate. I know you're still fucking stuck with this idea that everything was okay and you live in Lala land but it fucking wasn't. That woman was a monster through and through. I know I'm being harsh but the shit I know she did to you? It's disgusting, the shit she did to others? That's even worse."

"I..." I didn't know what to say. The sudden outburst from Victor caught me off guard. I couldn't understand how this situation could lead to him being this emotionally invested, let alone why he was taking anger out on me for something someone else had done. Unfortunately to say it wasn't something I was expecting or used to would be a lie.

"Look, I'm sorry. It's been a long day and I've been incredibly stressed. Beyond that reviewing everything that occurred in this case was one of the more unnerving things I've experienced recently. That woman was infected since the day you knew her, it's why you were drawn to her specifically and why IASEC allowed you to go with her. The process of fusion only ended recently but it was always there. Strict orders were clear for nobody to ever interfere with you even when it was clear she was taking advantage of you and... it's a horrific downside of the job. Sure you're not truly human but you're as close as possible while being an anomaly yourself. It's a horrible situation and I and many other agents hate the necessity to stand by. Early interference however poses a greater risk."

"I... I don't remember enough I guess," I was still at a loss for anything to say. My eyes fell to the ground, every bone in my body wishing to simply disappear.

"It's not your fault... Anyways, again I apologize. I'll give you a better explanation. The parasite is from the same dimension as the cavern from your childhood and the plants from your teenage years. This thing will seek out sentient beings who have a tendency towards rather violent and cruel methods and attach themselves to them. It feeds off of the suffering of those around its host. As time goes on, they start to communicate with the host and give them access to certain abilities. The more the parasite can spread its spawn the better that it can empower the host. As much as we call it a parasite it much more creates a symbiotic relationship. The end of those relationships result in what you saw recently, at least in humans to our best guess... it seems it differs majorly from its own home."

"How do you know all of that? Especially about what happens in its home. That's a pretty far stretch, especially considering it's a completely different dimension unless you have some way of traversing there... it seems rather a lot to be aware of in just a few days," I questioned. It was odd, the sheer amount of knowledge and assuredness threw me off.

"That," he stumbled with his words. "That is classified, you are not currently allowed to have that level of knowledge, maybe in some more years you could but certainly not for now."

"So it is something interesting at the very least," I said, a wicked grin growing across my face. He rolled his eyes and looked down at me. He really did tower over me, he was likely around six feet tall and I myself was only around five foot two. It was a bit disconcerting.

"We're done here. A proper full debrief will be had later when you're in your proper mind and I myself am less... agitated. As is usual with our work, you will be assigned office work for a while to recover from this event before being allowed to go out on your own to what will inevitably be another Doomsday. If we let your kind go out too much you destroy yourselves or go mad."

"Rich of you to assume I'm not crazy already," I scoffed, turning on my heels and heading back to my bed. My legs were getting tired from standing anyway. I could only ever stand for perhaps twenty minutes before they would give out. I had to remember that more. Walking was easier and I could last longer, but that wasn't what was going on.

"Harper," he warned, his eyes narrowing as he watched me walk back to my cot. "You are very much capable of doing your job. You know what I mean. God they should have let me know how much of a brat you would be," he shook his head, pinching his brow as he regained his composure once again. "Oh I almost forgot, there is one vital thing for you to know. With precautions being as necessary as they are and how far you are into working with us, additional things have been done. Part of your surgeries with the partial skin graft and the stitches in your arm, and the removal of the parasites was another procedure done for the safety of IASEC." My eyes snapped over to his directions as I listened to his words. No matter what this procedure was, it couldn't be good. Anything done for their sake was bound to be to my detriment.

"What was it?" I demanded, shooting him a glare that could kill. Victor made an uneasy expression as he brushed some of his hair out of his face and turned to face me properly once again.

"You've been implanted with a small device, one we call a kill switch. It's been developed specifically by us and will have no chance of killing you by accident. Beyond that the poison within the device is slow acting so in very rare circumstances where somehow the device would get broken we'd have time to realize what it is, get you better, and replace it."

"Oh well isn't that just what I needed," I laughed, gripping my head in my hands as I tried to compose myself. A fucking kill switch, they implanted me with a kill switch. I knew they never cared about my ability to survive but still. "Fuck you. Get out."

"I expected as much," with that the man left and I collapsed on my bed. I needed to sleep, someone else in my head could deal with this bullshit when I woke up again. I ran my fingers over the stitching on my arm as I tried to pull my mind away from the fact I now had some foreign object inside of my body on purpose against my will. I didn't even know where it was, I don't know how much I had to be opened up to remove the parasites, and considering the bandages I thought were just for my back are a little bit bigger and also cover my front I may have been opened up quite a lot. It only made sense my beloved sleep would not come that easily. My body was heavy with the weight of the revelations that the conversation with my boss had given me. So many things were just thrown at me and I was expected to be completely okay with and fully accept upon waking up as an actual present and mature mind.

I was supposed to accept that someone I in part still cared deeply for was a terrible person who had made the conscious decision to do some of the most caustic and deranged things and assuming it to be the fault of the otherworldly parasite was misplaced. I was also going to have to simply keep going with the fact that I had some kind of device in me. A device that I again found myself dwelling on, was a kill switch. A stark reminder that I had been stripped of my humanity forever and was marked as different. I wasn't like those monsters, I was a perfectly normal person aside from being drawn to things. My presence was a warning, never a cause for the horrors that occurred. Of course that never mattered, did it?

The exhaustion in my body spiked once again and I found my mind clearing and stilling. I knew the others in my head would be anything but pleased at this revelation and I was in the same boat. Fortunately, as my senses began to darken and the world around me faded once again, I was certain it would no longer be my issue. If only for a few hours until I needed to get up again for food. Sleep finally found me, one with no nightmares this time. The only peace my pitiful life would allow me.

Chapter Text

The cool autumn breeze tugged at my mess of brown curls as I slowly strolled up to the Dreaery Raven Pub. A trail of smoke clouded my eyes and drew my attention as I wrinkled my nose. Smoke never suited me, but the stranglehold of my own vices graced me with not an ounce of room to judge. My leather boots clacked against the sidewalk as I strode beside the man leaning against the bike rack. A cigarette was pressed between his lips under his sharp stubble as he drew in a breath, moving it away from his face once again as he breathed out a stream of smoke. I wondered what he would make of me, a newcomer to the gay bar that was frequented almost exclusively by the locals.

"Need a light?" His voice was hoarse, no doubt brought on by years of ruining his lungs. His darkened somber eyes stared off into the ether. I too stared at him for a while, studying the structure of his face and the dark hair trimmed and styled into a faux hawk. My gaze lingered at the myriad of piercings in his ears, complete with bars and studs. It took me longer than I would like to admit to realize he was the man I came here for. In that case he wasn't a local either. We were both strangers to the world around us.

"No, I don't smoke. Drinking is more my thing," I said, brushing my hair with one of my hands. Beyond our status as outsiders both of our attires were bound to attract some attention. The man, who I was able to recall was named Hermenegildo, looked like he had just crawled out of an apocalyptic film. Leather wrapped boots with tucked in torn black jeans further adorned by scraps of fabric, his shirt hidden in an oversized cloak like sweater all came together to make him look more rugged. Truly it was fitting attire for a monster hunter, or in the reality of what we were dealing with, an anomaly hunter.

I myself was dressed in what was best described as a bastardized and masculinized version of gothic lolita. My black pants complimented the black pullover vest on top of my frilly 19th century shirt with studded earrings of moths and painted nails to boot. Various accessories dangled from my clothes. The colors were washed out and worn down to a point that made everything about my appearance look muted. The clothes were in a style I had picked up and tossed aside. I only threw on the old clothes on special occasions.

"Then it makes sense you'd be at a bar," he stated. Another drag of his cigarette left a puff of smoke that drifted away, the scent lingering on his clothes.

"Yes, that and some," I waved my hand, reaching into my pocket and retrieving my wallet. It wasn't long until I fished out an identification card. IASEC agents and assets always had them on hand. Usually it was so they could buzz through doors at the offices and bases. In this case it was useful to get things moving along. The glossy card shone in the dim light from the window behind us, illuminating my status as an Omen. The man took it in his own hands, carefully scanning it over before flicking his wrist and handing it back to me.

"You should be careful with who you show that to," he responded curtly. I huffed out an amused noise and slipped the card back into my overused leather bound wallet.

"I'm quite careful enough. If you weren't the right person to show it to you wouldn't have said that," I quipped. He scoffed and shook his head, rolling his own amber eyes as he took yet another drawn out drag.

"Touché, I should've expected as much," he said, snuffing out the smoldering cigarette in the nearby ashtray. "Should we go in?"

"Yep," I walked past him and opened the door, looking around the bar for a table tucked away further than everything else. I was fine talking to people if they approached but I was also aware how odd it would be to openly talk about work at a gay bar as outsiders to the town. Then again these kinds of places were safest for me considering my own queerness. There was a sort of delicate balance I needed to achieve in matters like this. A way for me to be safe and a way for me to not draw attention.

"Oh no, we're going to sit at the actual bar. Trust me it won't be hard to play things off as normal, don't mention what we do for work and it'll be all good," Hermenegildo expressed, taking my tanned hand in his own slightly darker one and leading me to the bar. It almost seemed he was worried I'd have run away had he not guided me himself. It left a bad taste in my mouth but I held my tongue for the time being. He let go and hopped up onto one of the seats and I got up alongside him, resting my arms on the counter and glancing up at the bartender who made her way over to us.

"Good evening Ma'am... Sir? Apologies, what are your pronouns? I don't want to get it wrong," the woman before us was beautiful. Her stylized dark hair was pulled into bubble braids on either side of her head as a curtain of box braids that ended with beige beads covered the front of her face. I couldn't even begin to think of the amount of time and effort it must have taken. Her outfit was far more intricate than my own and it captivated me. I had never seen something like it before.

Her shirt's light color which contrasted her dark skin almost matched my own, the difference came from a beautiful work of charcoal colored porcelain and gold woven into a corset that further shaped her chest and sides. The beautiful craftsmanship of the piece left me in awe. Her brown baggy pants pulled the outfit together in a way that made me struggle to catch my breath. I may not have been able to feel true love or attraction, but deep appreciation for the work people put into their appearance and awe at their presentation was never an issue.

"Oh uh, yeah sorry. I don't mind whatever I'm called really," I turned my attention back to her question, a slight flush of embarrassment pooled at my cheeks. "Your outfit... it's amazing," I finally managed, messing with my gloved hands as my nerves got to me. They were fingerless gloves, one I found myself cursed to wear eternally so that I would not continue to worsen the chapped and flaking skin.

I'm complimenting her, she won't be mad at me for it. But what if she is? An unfortunately large part of my mind, the anxiety, led me to assume the worst of everything. I always found myself determined that every action I took was a misstep in some capacity.

"Oh thank you! I actually made it myself. It took ages to get done but I'm proud of it," she beamed. "Anyways, what would you and your friend like from here tonight?"

"Can I get a Manhattan? I'll probably get another drink later but that should do for now," Hermenegildo said, his attention having moved away from the menu and taps.

"I want a hard cider. As well as an Appletini, if possible. But I want the cider first," I explained. The bartender nodded as she turned and headed to the array of glasses behind the bar, getting started on our drinks. I was able to see more of her intricate work on the corset, a sight I was quite pleased to see. I truly loved intricate designs like that. "By the way, Hermenegildo, don't grab my hand like that again."

He glanced over to me once more, an embarrassed expression on his face. "Oh. Oh yeah, that was incredibly inappropriate of me, I apologize," he said. I was a bit astonished that he was willing to accept he had crossed my boundaries. Rather than dwell on my feelings, I assumed he was just a bit more aware than most. My attention was drawn to his hands as he fished around his wallet and took out his ID, setting it down on the table and sliding it over to me. I looked it over, making sure to take in the details. He was a Theta level agent, one of the highest that someone could be without being the head of one of the bases or the big guys up top. I slid the card back to him, watching him as he placed it snuggly back into his wallet.

"So, I was informed we have an apartment waiting for us," I mentioned. My gaze drifted back to the bartender as she came back around and served us our drinks. I thanked her and took the glass in my hand. Slowly I sipped at my cider. I had finally noticed her name tag, Dionysia. It was an interesting name, enough so that I made a mental note to ask her about it later. Beside me, Hermenegildo grasped his own drink, twirling it in his hand, leading the amber and crimson liquid to swirl before taking a sip.

"Yeah, it's the Havenwood Apartments, they're not too far from here," he said. I noticed Dionysia perk up at the mention, looking over to the two of us with excited energy.

"Havenwood? I live in Havenwood. If you ever want some help and you see me out and about there I'm glad to. It's not often we get new people 'round here," her cheery voice caught both of our attention as a soft smile formed on my face.

"Really now? That's actually really kind of you. It's always hard to move to a new place especially if you don't know anybody like me," I sighed. I took another sip of the cold cider. Hermenegildo nodded in agreement next to me.

"Where are you two going to be living? Like what apartment number, I know there's a few closer to me but just as many a bit further out," she continued her work as she spoke, preparing another drink for a guest at the end of the bar counter. Her movements were swift and purposeful, I couldn't help but find myself in awe of how well she worked.

"Hermene-" I was interrupted before I could even finish his name. He was the one who knew more of the details after all.

"Apartment 1312, Harper needs the explanation more than you would- it's building 13, first floor, and room two," he explained.

"Ah cool! I live in 1428... it's a bit of a hassle since my wheelchair becomes an issue to carry up the stairs but I'm ambulatory," she explained. My eyes fell over to the crutches pressed up against the corner. They were decorated with a variety of stickers and had spikes on the lower section of the legs. Something I ought to add to my own mobility aids. I thought to myself. Though I didn't have them with me due to the ease of sitting down at the bar, I was confident that IASEC would have already sent them to the apartment. I knew with absolute certainty they would be waiting either inside or by the door.

"I've had to do that before, it's never any fun," I mentioned, brushing a hand on the back of my neck. "Your crutches over there look cool as well, your entire aesthetic is just... it's wonderful." I couldn't help but be a bit giddy. Finding people who were openly disabled in public was always nice, especially when I could share experiences as a disabled person.

"Thank you, I actually do put a lot of effort into things, sadly it's not noticed nearly enough," she huffed. "I'm going to have to tend to some other customers but it was nice talking, perhaps we can catch up more in the future," with that she headed to the others, leaning against the counter every so often. Hermenegildo cleared his throat and caught my attention. Of course he was why I was here. My interest in Dionysia, no matter how strong, was secondary to the matter at hand.

"It'll be good to actually make acquaintances with the locals. We can't know about what's going on in this town if we never talk to anyone," he said. As he spoke he continued to drink his Manhattan, the liquid quickly depleted over the course of our conversation. I myself had already gotten through my own drink. The faint taste of apples and the ever present aftertaste of alcohol lingered in my mouth.

"Fair enough," I sighed, my focus coming back to the situation. When was the last time I had interacted with anomalies out in the wild? I counted the years in my head, mulling it over with an overzealous and precise intent. I was twenty four now and the parasite infecting my past abuser unfolded when I was twenty. In fact it was the very same month as it is now, September. September 10th had been the day that I was taken back in by IASEC and began recovery for the injuries I had sustained. Injuries that I still bore the remnants of.

I had had a skin graft but it wasn't perfect, the discoloration happened to be more than noticeable in pictures of myself I had taken. My arm had a long scar from where I had been grazed by a bullet. I already had a litany of scars before. Being a teenager was difficult, especially when I was first forced to realize my life was but one tragic event after another. I had coped in the only way I knew how, and the scars remained just as the others.

Coming here to the small town of Hillsgate was never truly planned. I had been allowed to go out into the world on my own again around five months previously by my case handler at IASEC's virginia base. My own unease with the world never allowed me to settle down. That was until I got closer to the town. I found myself searching for something, and eventually it landed me here. I felt comfortable, safe. It was nostalgic in a way, and the nostalgia scared me. The comfort and warmth of the small town was not too far from the one I had grown up in. A town that was long gone and all records of its existence systematically destroyed to ash and rubble.

I didn't want to see another town destroyed by horrors beyond my imagination. And yet here I was, an Omen that sealed the fate of everyone here. My mere presence proves that this place was hellbound. I tried my best to put the thought out of my mind. This time I had an agent with me early on, it would be different. Whatever threat there is I would make sure there would be far more survivors than there's been in my past. I found myself being jolted out of my trance as a glass was slid on the table towards me.

"Here's the Appletini, you said you wanted it after the Hard Cider, right?" Dionysia looked over to me expectantly and I nodded. I found myself taking the glass in my hand and slowly sipping at it, a soft smile on my face at the small act of kindness. It was just a part of her job but it comforted me all the same.. Hermenegildo pulled out his wallet once again and retrieved his credit card to pay for the drinks. Before Dionysia left to scan the card I spoke up.

"Hey Dionysia, I was wondering... Why is it that name? Did your parents name you that for any particular reason or did you choose it yourself? Not meaning to pry but it's a queer bar and often people choose their own names and that can be-" I was cut off by her soft chuckle as she rested her hands on her side of the bar.

"It's fine Hun, I actually chose it for myself. I'm a Hellenist, you know those weird pagans who worship the Greek Gods? My patron god is Dionysus, and I wanted to in part honor that," she shrugged. "And beyond that I think it's a pretty banger name."

"It is indeed," I grinned. It honestly never occurred to me that such a name could have been a religious choice on her part. She made her way to the cash register and I went back to slowly sipping on my drink. The first night of my time living in this town was starting out nice, I could only hope that it continued to be this warm and inviting place. It wasn't long until Hermenegildo was getting my attention once again and we left the bar. No more time to sit around, we had to get acquainted with our new home.

Chapter Text

The first day in my apartment and I could already note a few issues with the place. It made sense that IASEC wouldn't be trying to get us the fanciest establishment to stay, but when the sink handle broke off as I washed my hands this morning, I was less than thrilled. Of course Hermenegildo had me call the maintenance people who were quick to respond and quite courteous. It took only a matter of minutes for them to get in, fix the problem, and leave. I sighed as I lounged on the couch, my mess of curls falling over my face and covering my eyes, making it much harder to make out anything on my right side.

"I see you're a ray of sunshine," a voice that took very little to identify called to me. Hermenegildo's silhouette appeared beside the couch as I slowly turned to make out his figure. I put down the phone I had been endlessly scrolling on and brushed my hair out of my face, giving him a look that didn't hide my displeasure.

"I don't think I got much to be pleased about honestly," I retorted. It was truly just one thing after another at this point. Work also wasn't the most fun thing to be dealing with. Let alone work that sealed the doom of numerous people. Of course the doom would remain had I never found myself in this town. Unfortunately my mind wouldn't let me have any peace about what my presence entailed. That was regardless of the truth of my role in the hell that was befalling all these people.

"Well it seems somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he scoffed. "Do you drink coffee?"

"Not really, I fuel myself on energy drinks," I mumbled, pushing myself up and properly sitting instead of the sprawled out lay I had been doing.

"That's a shame, I'll have to get some for you," he frowned, sipping at a coffee mug that I had only now realized even existed. I rolled my eyes and set my phone down beside myself.

"Hey I can pay too. We both got the cards for basic use from the big heads," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. "Anyways, it's like 11 am now, don't we need to like, do something?"

"Yeah, we need to poke around and talk with a few people. Getting a good awareness of the urban legends and some of the history may help us start to find the core of the issues. If we do that, we may be able to figure out where the anomaly is or what it is sooner rather than later. Doing that will lessen the casualties and deaths that might occur," he affirmed, continuing to drink his coffee. This wasn't just work, and accepting the fate of hundreds of people with no hope of salvation wasn't a choice. This time would be different. More would survive and I along with Hermenegildo would make sure of it.

"Yeah, I'd prefer to see less death," I said. My mind drifted back to the past. I remembered the deaths of my childhood friends and acquaintances, the way the whole town was consumed in the maw of something that shouldn't have been real. Rock and stone replaced that which were originally homes, parks, schools, churches, and restaurants. The memory of the people in my second place of settlement with the glazed over look in their eyes as their bodies bloomed into forests in their own right and IASEC had sealed them away. Forever prisoner to a now alien existence.

With a sharp pain in my chest and the quick build of nausea I remembered the smell of burning flesh from my third Doomsday and the place my own flesh had been melted away. Death and suffering had marred my every waking moment. I wanted more than anything to see it's end. If all could be naught but a distant memory, I would be happy.

"I don't blame you. The reason I ever got involved was to lessen death," his words and tone betrayed how much this meant to him. As much as he tried to keep up a stoic and detached act, I knew better. It was personal. Personal in a way that meant there was something deeper, but I had no reason to press for information. I got up, walking past him and heading to my room. I needed to get properly dressed before heading out. I was still in sweatpants and a random graphic tee. I could have easily gone out in it but it wasn't what I personally would have been comfortable with.

"I'm going to get dressed, let's go out when I'm done," I said. Hermenegildo nodded as I departed, watching me leave and finishing off his coffee. Today was going to be busy, but it would be worth it. At least, I hoped it would.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Lumber Route was right across the street from the Havenwood Apartments and was an incredibly easy place to find others out and about during the weekend. Areas with high concentration of businesses always lead to there being at least a decent amount of people open to conversation. This was perfect for us and allowed us to have more of a fighting chance to get some information out of the locals. It was nice to see there wasn't anything overtly wrong with the area for the time being.

No anomaly called out to me and drew my attention, which meant nobody was in danger. I didn't feel a strong pull in the area either, it was exactly the same feeling I had in the apartments. Nostalgia that pulled at the corners of my mind and put me at ease, but not too close to the feeling of that otherworldly essence. I was drawn to find something, the source of the feeling, but I knew it wasn't here.

Hermenegildo and I passed a series of flyer advertisements posted on the side of a building before slipping into the warm bakery. A proud sign hung above the door with the words Whisk & Whimsy in a bold sans font. To say this was just for information would be insincere. As we left the cool air outside behind us, and the warmth of the establishment filled my chilled body I looked over the delicacies, leaning on the support of my crutches. My eyes fell on a particular pastry, delicately prepared with fresh fruit and a beautiful soft looking cake. The mini fraisiers made my mouth water.

"Good morning! How can I help you?" a man with dark hair and grey eyes looked over to us with a typical customer service smile. He was not that interested but was being polite enough to make his displeasure with working a non-issue.

"Oh I actually was wondering if I could get a cinnamon roll myself, my friend here is probably going to get something as well," Hermenegildo said. I realized he most likely had noticed me eyeing the fraisiers.

"I'd like a mini fraisier, it looks really good," I smiled sheepishly. The man nodded his head and started getting the products for us.

"For here or to go?" he asked. A quick sliding open of the glass doors and he was able to grab the pastries from the display case for us.

"For here," I spoke before Hermenegildo could. He nodded in approval.

"Well while we're here getting stuff I'm wondering if anything interesting has happened to you recently. Customer service can often come with some... unique experiences and stories," he asked the man. It had almost slipped my mind that we were planning to gather some kind of intel. Most people would likely assume Hermenegildo was making idle small talk. However, it was nothing short of a deeply calculated measure to gather an awareness of specific details about the town. The town was isolated from most other towns, being a bit further into the woods, and people talked. If we went to enough places we could probably piece together something.

"Oh man yeah, dude you have no idea how much shit I have to deal with," the man scoffed. He continued his work, gathering our food and setting them on plates to hand to us with silverware. "Recently there's been these religious nut jobs trying to get us to post these weird flyers advertising their stuff. At first I thought they meant something entirely different."

"What do you mean by that?" I inquired, taking the plate for myself and hopping up on a nearby high seat at a circular table. Hermenegildo drifted over to where I was as well, setting his own plate down and starting to pick at the pastry.

"Okay so hear this- they've named their stuff The Union. So when they come in asking me all these things I at first thought like- Sweet! I'd love to join! Workers unions can be a blessing and all that," he leaned against the counter as he spoke. He seemed to be getting more and more excited with each word. Rather than just getting a job done he seemed to be genuinely engaged with us. "But they explain more and more and then I realize they just mean their weird new agey bullshit. And like I don't judge people usually for their religious shit but when you're evangelizing and proselytizing up the wazoo and tryna trick me? I don't like it one bit."

"Damn that certainly sounds annoying to say the absolute least," Hermenegildo rolled his eyes, taking the burden of the small talk off my hands. I did find the man's story intriguing but I couldn't imagine there being much importance to any of it. Religious nuts of all shades and kinds were crawling the nation eager to get more followers. The largest religion in the country, Christianity, had its own share. Aggressively trying to convert someone who was merely doing their job was anything but out of the ordinary. However it was worth scrutinizing that such a small tight knit community would have these kinds of issues with a new age group.

"Yeah it was. They were going on and on about how people aren't properly like getting along together. They reference the fire that happened a decade back, but you guys know about that already, we all do. Or maybe not if you aren't visiting your family," he shrugged. I had finished off my pastry while listening to him. My coworker and I shared an uneasy glance between one another at the mention of a fire. I tried to hide my discomfort as nausea shifted in my stomach. My hand absentmindedly ran over my back in the area my charred flesh had been crudely patched up. Two layers of clothing separated my hand from my back. The glove that helped not to worsen my skin condition served as an extra barrier against the scar. Yet it still felt sensitive. I knew it was just my imagination, or perhaps my memory. Yet it stung all the same.

"Yeah I've got some extended family who lived up here not too long back. They don't live here anymore but it's where I found work through," Hermenegildo lied. I at least thought it was a lie. In truth I had not the faintest idea of his awareness of this town or the lack thereof, nor did I particularly care enough to find out. Any level of closeness to anyone in this hellhole was pointless. I would survive but I had no faith anyone else would. Even trained men like him had a tendency to go missing or turn up face down in a river. Agents' only form of turnover in IASEC was from death or retirement after all.

"Ah that checks out, where'd 'ya find work?" the man inquired.

"With governmental stuff funnily enough. It's a bit complicated," he was actually telling the truth. IASEC had ties to the government and was considered a strange branch of international governmental interest to numerous countries both allied to the United States and not.

"Ah... then you know about the new mayor. Look I don't have a problem with people doing what they gotta do but I don't like them one bit. He's a nasty man and doesn't give a shit about our community."

"Oh you have no enemy in me. I hate the man's guts as much as anyone. The community needs to have a lot of support, that's what makes things work like they did where I grew up," his words flowed so naturally that I found myself believing him myself.

"Yeah can't blame you for that," a silence fell between the both of them. I noticed that Hermenegildo had finished his cinnamon roll throughout the conversation as well.

"It was nice talking to you, thanks for the food as well," he got up, brushing the crumbs off of his pants and gesturing for me to go with him. The man nodded as we left the warmth of the bakery. Seconds after his feet touched the pavement Hermenegildo flicked on his lighter and lit a cigarette, his thousand yard stare returned as he leaned against the outside wall. I paused beside him, my mind drifting on its own. A part of me wanted to ask if he really did have family here. Another part of me knew it would be stupid.

"So.... your family?" I asked cautiously. "That was a lie right?"

"Yeah, they died over a decade ago. I was 15. It was half a lifetime. They were good people though, and I did live in a tight knit community. You weave in fiction between the facts and that's how you get someone to believe you," he blew out a stream of smoke. It hadn't occurred to me until now that his tendency to smoke could be related to any forms of stress but considering his shaky demeanor and hollowed eyes it wasn't that far of a stretch.

"I see. I'm sorry. All but my brother are dead in my own family," I sighed, leaning further on my crutches. It was a stark reminder of the way things were for so many. Anomalies would take everything from you, your life, your family, your loved ones, even yourself. He wasn't alone in that experience and neither was I. However I felt it better not to dwell on the pain and suffering born from the past. The grief lingered even after so many years, but it stung far less.

I glanced over the series of posters lining the wall. One of the flyers stuck out to me and I gingerly removed it from the glass window, looking it over with a hint of bemusement. It seemed that The Union had in fact stopped by, and didn't take kindly to the cashier finding them weird. They had seemingly gone out of their way to post the flyer themselves once denied by the young man. I studied it carefully, the logo and designs on the page leading me towards the text.

The Union calls for all men, women, and children to participate in something bigger than themselves. The world is nothing without our community. We must work together as one and shed the preconceived notions of self and individuality. We are one being, living and breathing together. Don't you feel the call?

It was for a lack of a better word, ominous. The forbidding nature of the flyer was even more concerning when I felt myself wanting to see more of this strange group. The calling I felt may have either been my own curiosity, related to being an Omen, or something was definitely up with this flyer. I stuffed the paper in my pocket and turned to face Hermenegildo, deciding it was best to mention later at home.

"So... where do we go now?" I asked, watching him snuff out the cigarette and stretch. His imposing form weighed on me for a second. The amount of dedication and training required for him to get as many muscles as I knew he had was a small source of jealousy. Even when he was wearing numerous layers he was clearly someone whose body achieved that which few could. I was a bit chubby myself and my own musculature was primarily in my arms with weak and wobbly legs. What a joke.

"Library. I can look at newspapers from a decade ago and see what I can find out about the fire. It seems important somehow," he said. With nothing further to do here he headed to the car, waiting for me beside it. I dashed over, the click of my crutches on the ground punctuating each bound of motion until I got to the vehicle and was able to open the side door. I slipped in my crutches and took a seat on the passenger's side.

"Library it is! Let's see if we can find something on that apparently open secret in this town," I chuckled.

"I doubt it's a secret."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I leaned over Hermenegildo's shoulder as he sorted through a series of articles from the early 2010s. Truly I was trying my best to aid him in the delicate search for any mentions of a fire. Just as he moved another article to the side I caught a headline out of the corner of my eye. Horrific Fire Breaks Out In Plaza Lane. 13 killed, 10 injured. I paused, staring at the picture of an apartment complex surrounded in flames, body bags were on the ground and firefighters were rushing to the building. I felt sick, but kept the nausea down to the best of my ability. Gingerly I picked it up, walking over to my own seat and setting it on the table. "Here it is... Plaza Lane. It's all the way across town from our apartment," I said softly.

"Yeah, that seems to be accurate. I hadn't realized this had occurred. Then again IASEC didn't have much information on this town. There was never a real reason to do so. I wanted to see the paper copies first to see if we'd find anything here that we won't later online," Hermenegildo looked over the paper, running his fingers along the front and slowly reading the blurb.

On the eve of August 17th, 2016 in the Plaza Lane apartments, a party hosted by rambunctious teenagers ended in disaster. A bonfire was lit for a back to school party by many of the older students of Hillsgate High, despite the denial from the town government of allowing such an action. A mistake that sealed the fate for thirteen members of the public that day. The day was unfortunately dry and the teens were none the wiser until a small bit of dull and dying grass managed to be caught in the flames leading to a chain reaction. All it took was one little mistake for the fire to rage out of control. According to officer Davis the suspects at this point fled the scene, wishing not to have any part in the consequences of their own actions. Only one, a young Rory Shaw, stayed behind to try and put an end to the chaos. The unmanaged fire continued its path of destruction primarily unabated for quite some time.

When it came in contact with the Plaza Lane apartments, two things occurred. The building burst into flames and the dirty secret of the poor construction and quality of the rooms was revealed. The building was poorly equipped to handle a fire of any manner. Safety equipment was not installed in locations it should have been, and this led to a catastrophic loss of life. As the flames continued in their conquest many women and children were forced to fight for their life to get out of their smoldering homes. At the end of the ordeal there were 10 individuals carted off to the hospital and 13 bodies left at the site.

In the aftermath of this great tragedy head landlord of Plaza Lame, Hudson McGuire was chased out of the town by angered mourners. Our town is not a place for those who show no concern to human life. In addition...

I stopped reading the paper as it delved into the details of the man's exile for his own role in the tragedy. I found myself eyeing my coworker as he furrowed his brow and took out his phone, snapping a picture of the articles front and back. When he put his phone down I caught him glancing back over to me as well. "We're going to clean this up and head home. Seems we got what I was looking for."

"That checks out. I'm getting tired anyways," I hid the discomfort in my voice. I hated fires. I hated reading about it. I especially hated the smell of cooked flesh that assaulted my senses and clouded my head in a storm of memories. My eyes couldn't stop landing on the picture and obsessing over the scenario. My mind started to shift, the world around me blurring and I lost sense of myself once again.

As Hermenegildo and I put the papers back in their container and set them back on the shelf I felt like I was watching all of my own actions. The world around myself expanded and lessened. The reality of everything came into question as I stood beside myself. Therapy had helped of course, but old habits die hard and as I made out a man lined with heavy battle scars, long messy dark hair that fell to his frazzled and disheveled body, I knew what was happening.. Delta. He wasn't real, not fully, or at least he wasn't physically there. I could make out the blurring on the sides of him and I understood the concept of superimposing the parts of myself that were so deep inside of me wasn't uncommon. I felt myself drift further and further from reality as he drew closer, then suddenly I was in a void of white fog. As my awareness faded, another emerged in our mind, empowering our body to move normally and apologizing to Hermenegildo for zoning out.

Someone else will have to deal with this, Remy. I heard from the man who had taken my place. A thought that was not fully my own. With that I was back in a new world, a construction of my own mind. Harper's Remy was no longer in front. Instead Delta had control.

Chapter Text

I had come to awareness for the first time in what felt like years walking out of the library with a man I didn't recognize. I had only scattered bits of information to make sense of. Something deep within my chest urged me to continue on as if nothing had changed. I felt that I needed to pretend I was the same person who had been there previously. My mind screamed and cried out with the memories of people I love burned away to nothing but charred flesh and the rare spot of blackened bones from piles of ash. The picture... I knew another part of us, of me, had seen it, and it called me to emerge. The stark reminder that sought to have me crawling out of the hole I dwelt in.

Deep in the recesses of our mind, dormant with no need to resurface as we had been safe for so long. Deep within Harper's mind. These things were never easy were they? I, as Harper, knew everything well enough to know I was working a job. However as Delta my mind was muddled, some of what I knew as Harper was hidden for me. I eventually constructed an excuse to leave when I and the man I slowly recalled was named Hermenegildo had finished dinner at home and made my way to the bar, my body heavy from the weight of the day's various revelations.

I sunk down into one of the many seats at the bar. A deep sigh fell from my lips as I set my crutches next to me and leaned my folded arms onto the bar. I laid my head down on top of them, half lidded eyes scanning over the night life of the Dreary Raven Pub. I knew the way there, and I had the faintest inkling I'd been there before. The bartender working the shift was familiar as well and as I watched her out of the corner of my eye a name came back into my mind, Dionysia. A small smile spread across my face, for some reason her presence was calming, maybe it was the awareness that I wasn't alone in being on the younger side of aging and still needing mobility aids. Maybe it was just my own fondness for her aesthetics.

"Nice to see you again, did you get settled in that apartment? I'm surprised you'd be back so soon. Then again you do seem the kind of person who visits bars a lot, no offense," she said. I noticed she was cleaning a few glasses as she spoke to me. I nodded, changing my position and resting my head on the palm of one of my hands. "Would you like the Appletini and Cider, or is something else more fitting for you tonight?"

"Four shots of fireball, with perhaps more to come later. I learned about the fire here. Mirrors some of my own experiences," I said coldly. Dionysia froze at the mention of the fire, a pitiful expression filled her face as she looked at me as if I were a wounded animal. Perhaps I was, somewhere in the dark abyss of my past, what my being had been was utterly broken. It went deeper than my own behavior and mindset as an individual. My very existence was spawned from horror and pain. I had broken off as a fragment of our own mind. I was forged in the hot embers of experiences with Doomsdays, again and again. Now I was back, aware that the fact I was present when we had gone so long with no need for me meant only one thing. And so the cycle continues, I thought to myself, a painful feeling pulling at my chest. I would not cry. I would never cry in front of anyone, to do so would be a sign of weakness, to allow them to see me as the broken thing I am.

"I see, I'm sorry, I can't imagine what that would have been like for you. I'm close to people who were affected... but neither myself nor my family were harmed," she drifted over to the shot glasses, grabbing four and slipping them on the bar. A man who had been sitting beside me cleared his throat and I finally acknowledged his presence.

"That old fire... it was when this town went to hell. I can only imagine there's a similar reason you're a drifter," his rough features and wrinkled skin betrayed his age. He was in mid to late fifties, greying with a well kept beard and short dark hair with small silver strands. His grey eyes showed he too had experienced years of sorrow and agony, an old soul who I could relate to. Even in my youth. As some say, trauma ages you.

"Yeah, that was one of the things that made me what I am now, a..." I found myself at a loss for what to call myself. A man? A woman? Something between the two? Or was it something so far removed that there was no proper way to express my own sense of identity to the majority of the population? I was a void, a dark ink with such a thick viscosity that I could not even see myself when I looked in the mirror. Only the imprisoning oobleck that surrounded me looked back. "A person who doesn't have anywhere to call home, and never will again. Not truly."

"I'll leave you two to your conversation, I need to help some other patrons, but feel free to call me over whenever you need it or ax me anything," she said. She finished filling my shots sliding a bottle of bourbon over to the man beside me and drifted over to the other side of the bar as the man spoke.

"You know, sometimes youngins like you still have the same weariness that I carry. I see it all over you, you don't live a life full of kindness and end up like that," he took a sip from the bottle once he got it open. I chuckled, picking up one of the shots of my own and downing it. The sharp taste of overpowering cinnamon and the burn of alcohol shot down my throat, leaving a stinging aftertaste. I hated how the drink tasted, I always did, and yet I drank nonetheless. Maybe I was trying to prove something to myself, or perhaps it was just a way to punish myself for being the one who consistently survived. The deaths of the many I had once loved weighed heavy on my shoulders.

"You're right, you don't. I've had a hard life, perhaps I'll tell some of the stories of it. Whether you believe me is another question entirely, but maybe this place will go to hell enough that you do," I smirked. The expression was a forced one, and the man saw through my facade.

"I've seen stranger things kid, you don't live in an isolated town as a hunter for nearly 50 years and not see some strange things," he eyed me. I nodded. It'd been a while since I had felt understood by anyone. This man clearly knew some things and I worked with enough hunter contacts from IASEC to believe he had seen plenty. I found myself scanning him more carefully, taking in every detail. He was larger than me but almost everyone I've ever known has been. He was a completely average man.

His outfit was almost entirely composed of well kept leather as rich and dark as the night. His face bore a few scars, ones that I could only imagine were caused by run ins with various oddities and typical wild animals. Others merely were accrued over the course of a rough life. I took another shot and slid the second emptied glass next to the first. The last thing on him I noticed was a hanky, a dark black on his left side. Maybe I'll be able to entirely forget myself and just let go for a night.

"I'm sure you have. Scars like that don't come outta nowhere. Maybe I'll tell you a story of mine, if you'd like to tell me a story first," I said. I took no time to down yet another shot.. The pain in my throat only served to ground me as a soft warmness buzzed around my body. I was just nearing being tipsy.

"A story you want and a story you shall have," he grinned, drinking a bit more of his own whisky straight from the bottle. I chuckled, downing another shot and letting myself get properly buzzed to listen to his tale. The man chuckled as he watched me with a look of amusement, taking his time before starting his own story.

"Being out in the woods always leaves you open to some of the stranger oddities in the world. Let alone when you're out and about at night purposefully blending in with everything else. I have a whole lot of stories to tell from my years out in the cold, waiting, searching for the right time to strike at my own prey. They tell you that we humans are the apex predators in this world, and anyone who says that is a damned fool. There's a hint of truth to the power that we hold, especially as our technology has gotten bigger, better, stronger. But it don't got anything on the things that go bump in the midst of the night. The shadows that form with nothing that could reasonably make them. The breath down the back of your neck with no source when you turn around. The gleam of those intelligent eyes in them animals that shouldn't have it," he took another swig of his drink, gauging my reactions. He seemed to be pleased with my interest as I leaned closer to hear him better.

"Sooo," I drew out the word, the alcohol starting to lower my guard. "Which creature of old is the story centered on?"

"You come here and talk 'bout them creatures of old but I tell you boy there's creatures born every day, even now. Though this fella I'm talking 'bout showed up only back in '25 when my old man was spry. It's only been spoken of again back 'round the 2000s, but I assure you the damn bastard has lived since then," he scoffed. I watched as he drankmore and shook his head before regaining his composure. As much as could be expected for a deeply intoxicated man anyways.

"I see, their kinds old... very old but not the individual?" I inquired.

"Yeah, it's the damned vampire of Richmond, though I doubt you want to hear me drabble on and on and explain the history of my family and so on. Or more accurately not though, ah shit let me start over again," he cleared his throat, getting back into the story I had oh so badly been on the edge of my seat for.

"The things have been known of for 'round and about a century now, and have gotten more attention since newer times. The people who run the ol' Hollywood cemetery deny the claims of vampiric remains and the historians who study The Church Hill Tunnel incident claim the story is merely a game of telephone.

"Say the core of it came from a fellow with egregious injuries who survived the collapse of the damnable work. But those of us who talk know that ain't all to the story. The injuries of what I saw ain't nothing like what that poor man endured, and those fucking eyes. It ain't normal for a person to be lookin like that. I reckon the whole confusion comes from different accounts from people who witnessed different things. That's where the confusion stems from just about, but I assure you that bastard is as real as me and you."

"You don't have to convince me sir, I know damn well there's darker things that roam," I shook my head.. He clapped his hand on my back and grabbed my shot glasses, filling them with whiskey from his own bottle and sliding them back towards me.

"I see. Then I trust you may end up needing something to get through the end of this. Not too much though, don't want to wreck your body. You're not heading for the grave like me from your vices. Four fireballs is just enough to get you tipsy and I can tell. This is for the rest of the night, and you don't gotta pay me back."

"Very well," I took the shot glasses, looking over them and deciding to withhold for the time being. "Do you finally wish to tell me what it is?"

"Heh keeping you hooked is a great way to guarantee you actually are willing to hear me out about the whole ordeal," he chuckled. "This happened some years ago in 1997, I was out in the woods not too far from where we are now. I've been hunting in them woods since I was a boy, right? Of course there's always been some reasons to be concerned and on my toes, animals of all kinds can decide they've had enough and even a deer could theoretically kick in your head if you spook it the right way. So it's only natural that I was careful that night in November when I was hunting me some bucks. I was all huddled up in my camouflage hunting gear when I saw something shift about 20 yards away from my perch. It's movement was all janky and unnatural, wasn't like nothing I've seen before or sense.

"I pulled out my night vision goggles trying to get a good ol glimpse of whatever it was that was out there. I looked around the area until my eyes settled on that fucking bastard bitch. Ya don't know how fucking strange it is to see a true, pure, vampire till you lay 'yer eyes on it. That man was skinny as a twig, might as well seen all his damn ribs, and his arms were complete with these long claws, I could tell they weren't made of- of them flimsy materials human fingernails are. You've seen dogs and cats I'd gather and those nails? That's the kind of durability this monster had. It's face was all fucked up too, half rotted showing the gums, matter hair and wild fucking eyes. Them eyes were what got to me the most. Bold, red, hungry and what took me a while to accept was he was looking right at me. Bastard was grinning.

"I swear vampires like that would give them damn books the youngins these days are into a run for their money. Sparkling vampires in the sun is nothing but a romanticized fantasy of what these fuckers can be. The older ones, and ones who are so detached from humanity have more in line with tales of lich's and self preserved necromancers than any dreamboat. If I didn't know better I'd reckon vampires were tryna fix their image due to all the crazed fuckers like this one. Something about the way he moved as he approached his fucking eyes. I knew he was far more gone than even his kind. He was a fucking wild animal."

I listened intently as he finished his story, my eyes drawn to his mouth every so often when he spoke. Every so often I could just sense that something was different about him as well. No he wasn't just a man who had run into anomalies time and time again, he was somebody who had to be one himself. There was no other explanation. He has specifically sought to sit next to me and start a conversation. He knew my own experiences were bound to be with something otherworldly when most would assume it was just incredibly complex. I couldn't get enough of this strange man, and when I was tipsy and my inhibitions were lowered I was attracted to danger like a moth to flame. Brutality was where I specialized, it was all I knew and I baited it relentlessly when things were too proper too clean too easy.

"If I am to believe all of that... you gotta let me ask you one question," I stared at the man, my eyes falling generally on his face in a form of mock eye contact. It worked just the same and didn't leave me feeling like crawling out of my skin.

"Oh and what is that?" he asked, teasing another sip at his bottle of whiskey. Was he seriously going to drink the whole thing? How was this man even alive?

"If you saw him, how are you standing here now?" When the words left my lips a silence fell between us. Even Dionysia, who had been working on a cocktail for another guest, paused, waiting to see how he would respond.

The man leaned in close to me, his mouth brushing up against an ear in a way that sent an uncomfortable shiver down my back. "He had more use to turn me than kill, and I know you're not human either. You reek of the stench of a marked. Your kind being here means this place is doomed. But I always love a show, and I have interest in you for other reasons." His words were husky and though there were parts slurred from the intoxication, I knew well what he meant. A shiver ran down my back as he ran his hand down it, allowing his nails to protrude slightly. He grinned as pulled out the handkerchief in my own pocket as well, it had been snuggly secured in my right and my face heated at how forward he was being. To be fair I had gone to the bar to get wasted and destroyed by any woman, man, or enby who would be willing to do so. My own desires were being met, and by another sentient anomaly. The bitter pain from either my atypical body or the sting of alcohol helped me pretend the past never happened. I forgot even if for a little, and that was just what he was offering me.

"I have my ways to survive the creatures of the night," he said more loudly as he backed away from me. A grin splayed across his face as Dionysia returned to her work, seeming to have never heard what the man had said in his whispers. "Now, you owe me a story. We had a deal did we not? And I'm sure I can make it up to a cute thing like you, if only for a night."

I blushed harder at his words and quickly downed a shot of whiskey he had given me. Though I myself had no attraction to the man aside from an appreciation of his scars and an interest in the anomalous elements he possessed, my body ached to be thoroughly ruined. It was the only thing that made me feel whole. The main person who had pushed that obsession further to the surface had gone and lost her skin and was subsequently killed for being a Doomsday. Aster. I could still remember her laying next to me and her teasing, her push to get me to go out and allow my body to be used more often because I was "lesser and prudish" for my misunderstood asexuality. She was truly a bitch on the best of days. Even with therapy allowing me to know this was an issue I didn't care. I needed to stop thinking... Aster. I had to talk about Aster.

"Fine I got a story you may find interesting or perhaps you'll just get pissy about the lack of realism. Though given that you've made your whole big deal about this vampire who you saw, I doubt you'll think my shit is too out of the ordinary," I started, picking up another shot and downing the liquid courage. The familiar burn of alcohol only pushed me to continue more. "Its a fucked up story on multiple levels, to give the basic rundown I was a teenager, but legal enough in the sense I was 18 when I met a woman I saw as the mother I had lost as a child. A loss incurred by another brush with the supernatural and so on.

"It's a whole ordeal I really can't be bothered to get into. A lot of shit happened, she was a pretty shitty person, being in her 40s when I met her and even older when she turned into some ... thing. But that's not the right part of the story yet either. No, I'm gonna tell you about the shit that happened before, all the way before when I was fucking blinded by this woman's fake care. I didn't know shit about what it was like to have a proper mother and she knew that damn well.

"She had amassed a few closer followers including myself into her little cult, I was one of her inner circle members and only her favorite when I did things to help her spread her word. A fucked up and disgusting display of the depths of my own depravity in a sense. She always had us eat with her, little did any of us know there was something wrong with the food. Not poison, no that would be a mercy that I would beg the gods to allow to replace the truth. That bitch was filthy, infested with some kind of parasite with weird fucking abilities and what she slipped into our food was it's spawn. I'm lucky, I have a knack for certain things and survive often. My friends? I can't say the same.

"The first one dropped when she told Aster that her rivals had a point about the cruelty of her messages and behavior in the community. Callie, the woman's name, ended up in a screaming match with Aster. It ended with her tryna leave," I could feel myself shaking slightly as I spoke. I reached for the second to last whisky shot and downed it as well. My speech was starting to slur slightly. "Her name was Callie, she was a sweet girl in some ways. Mislead and fucking broken like the rest of us. She left the table and fire just consumed her. It was small at first but then it grew and grew and she just screamed and screamed. You don't know hell until you smell someone burning alive, their flesh sizzling and peeling.

"She looked like fucking overdone sausages with the skin broken by the time the fire stopped. She was a fucking lump of charcoaled skin and ashen bones, she used to hold me when I was fucking dealing with the shit Aster pulled in private. She told me everything would be okay then... And the whole fucking time Aster was laughing. Bitch told the rest of us that Callie had kindly set an example of what happens when we question her.

"She forced us to bury our friend, telling us the whole time how better off we were without her. The following months continued like this, friends of years combusting and screaming in agony until they were nothing by ash. Aster smiled every damn time. Eventually the bitch turned... the creature she became was fucking disgusting and I can only be thankful the government stepped in even when I fucking hate those bastards with my whole heart," I took my last shot of whiskey, gripping my head in my hands afterwards. "She fucking destroyed half the town in her rampage. Never fucking again will I be so blind to monster like that. Fuck the sex wasn't even that good!"

Was I crying? I didn't even realize I was crying until the firm hand on the man landed on my back once again, he poured me another drink and I took it.

"How old are you, kid?" he asked me. I looked over to him, raising an eyebrow as I downed the other drink, wiping the tears away from my swollen eyes.

"Twenty four now, got out of that hellhole when I was twenty and now I'm here," I stated. The man nodded thoughtfully, pulling his hand away as he did so.

"You got four years to get over shit you've seen. I'm in my late seventies and I got nearing three decades to get over my shitty situations. You're early in on it. It's okay to cry. But it does get better. That fucker wasn't the first encounter with the supernatural for me and I do feel your pain," his words were genuine even as he struggled to form them through his own intoxication.

"Thanks," I leaned against him, a hand sliding to his thigh as it was now my turn to whisper to him. "Sex does help me forget... would you like to fuck an Omen, Sir?" I emphasized the last line, a grin sprawling across my face. I didn't care how crass I was, or that he knew damn well my intentions, speaking could only help so much and with the memories fresh in my mind I wanted them gone. Now. He smirked, his own hand finding its way to my ass as he squeezed. It wasn't long until I found myself crashing my lips into his, making out and not caring for how much I never loved the feeling. "Make me forget, destroy me," I mumbled as I pulled away. He grinned and called Dionysia over, eagerly paying the bill before leading me into the unisex bathroom with him. Dionysia threw us a knowing look.

"Don't make a mess," she seemed pretty intense about that. I figured she had to clean before and it wasn't exactly the best experience I could imagine. I nodded as I passed her struggling to form cohesive words as I slurred something akin to "no problem".

It wasn't long before we were locked away in the bar's bathroom. The man shoved me to my knees before he grinned, allowing his eyes to turn a blood red and fangs to grow large and intimidating. "Now, just behave for your master and Sir will break your pretty little mind like you asked," he held my head in his hand before leaning down and grinning. "Now be a good little slut and strip." I was happy to oblige.

Chapter Text

When I stumbled out of the bathroom with the man behind me, my body felt heavy. It was far longer than we probably should have spent there, but nobody bothered us. Seeing as the man was a local it seemed there was a sort of open secret about the kinds of things people got up to there. My body ached from how I had been used in a myriad of ways. The man had seemed to have little to no care for the physical parts that I had nor the ambiguity of how my own anatomy was shaped. I prefer it when my hookups don't comment on it. Aster had always fetishized it to hell and back and I was trying to forget her.

Thankfully the man had condoms and ironically being a vampire tended to nullify any ability to transmit diseases, not that I was sober enough to care either way for the time being. The man patted my head and thanked me for a great night, eyeing my chest where he knew bite marks peppered my skin from when I allowed him to drink my blood. Not enough to turn, just enough to be nourished. He had never had an experience with an Omen, we were rarities. He was odd as well for choosing to stay where an Omen had drifted to, but that was something for sober me to think about. I hummed, running a hand through my messy dark brown curtain of curls as I hobbled back to the bar where I had forgotten my crutches and grabbed them. "Dionysia! Can I get another fireball?" I called out, a dumb grin on my face.

I looked like a hot mess, my shirt slightly unbuttoned leaving a trail of hickies and bite marks without the fangs noticeable from the top of my minimal cleavage all the way up to my neck. I was wobbling like a baby deer and struggling for support. "Once I pay for that I'll be walking home!"

"Oh no you don't, you will NOT be walking home like this. What's your roommates number I'm going to call him, how are you even planning to get home? You can't drive like this either!" she suddenly put down what she was doing and after a few minutes of bickering I reluctantly handed her my phone with Hermenegildo's contact open. She took it and typed away for a while before handing it back to me. A few exchanges of messages explained the situation and had Dionysia giving Hermenegildo her own phone contact for any further aid. I huffed, not really seeing the issue myself.

"I could like, walk home," I rolled my eyes, ignoring the fact I was barely able to stand currently.

"Yeah no the fuck you're not. I'm not gonna be nice here. Hun, you're shaking and you already have crutches. I know damn well you'll collapse on the way there," she shook her head, continuing to keep me in check. This proceeded for the next fifteen minutes and led to her coaching me to drink water instead of anything alcoholic. Hermenegildo eventually showed up and let out a heavy sigh upon seeing me.

I supposed it was odd to see your clearly wasted roommate who just got run through like there's no tomorrow whining about drinking water when they could be doing literally anything else but I didn't care much. "Hi," I drew the word out. "Did you know you look like a badger? The ones who can dig through concrete, or was that an anteater? Maybe a badger with anteater features."

"Yeah... no. I'm taking you home. Thanks for contacting me Dionysia, you've been a blessing here in town to have since moving in," he addressed her. She perked up and smiled kindly, nodding her head.

"Yeah no worries, besides giving the things she was talking about here... I can't help but be worried about her. They're not exactly the most stable person, and given I'm big into cryptids and the supernatural I believe that kind of shit, even if it wasn't that there's clearly.... Something. Take good care of them alright. Poor girl was weeping his eyes out."

"Fuck... suppose it makes sense given his past. Yeah, I'll keep an eye on her, no worries," with that he picked me up, slinging me over his shoulder after having grabbed my crutches in his other hand.

"You know I can hear you both.... It's not that bad, just a little immolation."

"Fuck... I forgot you had trauma with fires. I should've known," Hermenegildo cursed under his breath as he took me away from the Dreary Raven, leaving Dionysia to sadly smile at the both of us as she left. She'd probably seen worse before. Oh well.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I woke up with a start as the car parked in front of our apartment and the door on my side was opened up by none other than Hermenegildo. My blurry eyes fixated on the man in front of me as I clambered my way out of the car. Soon strong arms were around me, helping me properly get home. As much as I in my own deeply intoxicated mind believed myself to be fully capable of walking unsupported, my coworker certainly knew better. I rambled about nonsense as he nodded along and humored my speech, ignoring me only to punch in the code to our apartment and get us inside. He sighed as he looked over to me.

"I did mean it when I said sorry a bit earlier. I should've been thinking about your past shit that was on your file, or gone with you out to that bar. God you're going to fucking despise that hangover in the morning," he flopped down on the couch, pinching his brow. I rolled my eyes and scoffed, making my way over to him and flopping down on the other side of the couch, looking off into nothing.

I absentmindedly took off my outer shirt, throwing it to the side and leaving only my binder that compressed my already admittedly unimpressive chest. I had more than that once, but I got a reduction at some point. Even still I found myself binding, I looked too masculine to feel safe presenting as anything but a man, even with my body being a mix of everything. He glanced over, my shirt being gone only served to let him see that not only had I clearly hooked up while drunk off my ass, but it was clearly with a vampire. Small punctures that probably should've been tended to dotted my flesh, small drips of dried blood just as present as anything else.

"Are you?" Hermenegildo seemed to be at a complete and total loss for words as he looked me over. "Not only do you reek of sex, you're clearly wasted beyond belief, you fucked a vampire? You know how dangerous that is- you let them bite you multiple times? You could get infected, you don't know where their mouth has been!" He suddenly got up from his seat, gripping my arm and taking me to his bedroom and into the bathroom that only he could access. His bathroom was much bigger than mine, and it occurred to me his room must have been the master bedroom as well. He walked over to the large bathtub and set the plug in place before starting to turn on the water. "Do you need warmth or cold?"

"Scorching, burn me in hell with the others," I scoffed. He rolled his eyes, setting the water to warm but not enough to cause any injuries to me. He started working on getting some more products he had lying about open. Bath salts, foaming bubble bath substance, shampoo, conditioner. He lined them up on the tub before heading over to his sink. He opened the small cabinet below it and took out a decently sized case of first aid materials, setting them on the counter and glancing over to me once again.

"You're acting like a petulant child, but I still can't even really blame you. Fuck, half of this shit is my own fault, I know damn well how much a trigger can set someone off to self destruct," he sighed. I rolled my eyes, tugging off my pants and letting them fall to the floor as I walked over to the bath and slipped my hand under the faucet, the warmth spreading up my body.

"You know you love me~" I teased. He just rolled his eyes again.

"You're not helping yourself by trying to hit on me Harper, you're obviously not in the right state of mind," he said. "Trust me I couldn't care less about seeing your body but what I do care about is you don't get some kind of supernatural disease and then can't do your job. I barely know you but I know damn well how much of a hassle a sick Omen can be, this is me doing you a favor. You'll thank me when you're in the right mind." He seemed quite assured of himself, I merely scoffed and threw off the rest of my clothes. Hermenegildo barely even looked in my direction, going through the medical kit and finally putting out everything he had determined I needed after my bath.

"I don't get it! Why would you need me to strip otherwise," I teased. Hermenegildo groaned, turning to face me once again.

"Because you're filthy and you have wounds that need to be addressed as I stated before. I understand you're wasted and I apologize for how fucking... irritated I am with you but genuinely, I just want this to be over with. I know you'll be embarrassed as all hell in the morning. I also am going to watch you because I don't want you falling over and drowning yourself in the bathtub or throwing up and choking on it. If anything I'm having to baby you right now," he pulled on his dark hair strands, trying his best to get his bearings.

"I am not a baby," I huffed, slipping my way into the bath and sinking into the warm water. It was incredibly comforting, the salts and bubble bath mixture soothed my body even with the slight sting where the punctures on my chest and neck lay. Hermenegildo chuckled to himself, he seemed to be slightly amused with my behavior and I supposed a more aware part of my brain fully understood why he would feel as such. I closed my eyes as I hummed, wiggling in the water. Everything was so perfect and warm. After a bit Hermenegildo came to my side, ruffling my hair and grabbing a bottle of shampoo.

"Sure you're not. Why don't you lean forward and dip your head in the water, get your hair wet and I can help you clean it," his voice was soft and kind. I slowly nodded, dipping my head in the water and coming back up, my dark curls now flat and heavy. He squeezed some of the shampoo from the bottle out onto his hand and got to work kneading the shampoo into my head, lathering it a very generous amount and aiding me in rinsing my hair when done. Soon we repeated the process, this time with a conditioner. I yawned as he finished, blinking away the sleep in my eyes and trying to stay up more properly.

"Mmm it's nice. You're silly," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. Hermenegildo smiled once again and reached into the water, pulling the plug to the bath and helping me out before wrapping a warm and fluffy towel around me. I melted into the cloth and let him help to dry me off before he brought me back to his bedroom and propped me up on his bed.

"Stay here, I'll grab the medical stuff and help patch you up," he drifted back to the bathroom and I laid back on his bed, yawning and looking up at the ceiling. It didn't take long until he helped me back up and applied a disinfectant cream to the fang wounds. I whined softly, wanting to just lay back down but let him help me. Soon enough he had gotten bandages over the area and wrapped me back in the towel, carrying me to my own bedroom and placing me on my bed.

"Hehe, you care about me!" I giggled, not making much sense as I crawled further up my bed and slipped under the covers.

"Perhaps... you're my coworker, and my junior in rankings. I have a duty to," he said plainly. He headed to the door before looking back at me. "I do hope you'll be able to sleep okay... you aren't in this alone. I'm here too. I promise. This won't be like what you experienced before. And I don't want families to go through what I did either."

With that he left, closing the door behind him. I stared off at the door for a bit longer before closing my eyes and curling up. What did he mean by the last part of what he said? Well it didn't matter. Not for the time being. No. I was too tired to think well enough. It was time for me to sleep.

Chapter Text

To say the absolute least of the following day, Hermenegildo had been right about my regret. My body was sore enough from the effects of the hangover, let alone the dull ache in the places the man had drunk my blood. I was miserable the entirety of the morning and was only able to get myself to leave my room by the evening. To be fair, it wasn't fully me who had done it. It was Delta, who was in essence still me but another version. I always found myself specifying things to myself in my head. For the time being I, Remy, was fronting.

The other alters had receded deep within my mind. I could talk to them if I truly wanted to. It wasn't that challenging to call them back to the front of my mind. However, I simply didn't feel in the mood for introspection. Nor did I particularly have the energy to chastise Delta. As Harper, I did what I did. It mattered not that I as Remy didn't like it much. I was certain there had been enough times the same frustration arose for Delta regarding myself. The curse of being multiple people in one body I supposed. Or facets of a person. It didn't matter how I viewed it.

Shirking aside my boisterous thoughts, I stumbled my way into the living room to find Hermenegildo. He was reading a book by IASEC on various common anomalies. When his eyes met mine, he closed the book and gave me a knowing glance. "Don't say anything," I grumbled, plopping down on the couch next to him. "Though I will. Thank you, for last night... probably was best I got that all dealt with."

"Yeah, don't stress over it, I've had to watch over others at one point or another and I know a good amount about a variety of anomalies. The danger of vampires in cases like that comes more from the possibility of transference of diseases or not properly dressing the wounds. I don't know how much you remember but... I genuinely am sorry you got in a place to be so reckless. I knew about the fires in your past, it was on your record. I really wanted to get that lead, but..."

"No, don't get down on yourself for it. What's done is done," I sighed. I found myself harshly rubbing my hands together. Of course, the stress of the night before had given me the excellent side effect of more irritation on my skin and a need to scratch at an unrelenting itch. I needed to put my gloves back on after having taken them off the night before. They were always helpful to prevent me from further damaging my skin. After a short period of silence, Hermenegildo cleared his throat.

"Oh just remembered, you may want to text Dionysia and thank her for helping me be able to come and get you last night. She was a bit worried about you... said something about you telling a heartbreaking story. My understanding was it was about the last Doomsday."

"Ah yeah... do you have her number?" I asked, glancing over to him. He nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah you could also check your messages with me, she sent her number to me that way when she borrowed your phone."

"Thanks, dude," I said, getting up and heading over to the kitchen. "Oh, and thanks once again."

"Of course, any time. Gotta watch your back, what kind of senior agent would I be if I didn't?" he smirked. I rolled my eyes back to him. I opened the pantry and proceeded to make myself some instant ramen. When I finished with that I found myself turning my attention to my phone. It wasn't long for me to find the number that Dionysia had sent and shoot her a text myself.

Harper: Hey, sorry about last night, I know I was sort of a mess. Thanks for helping me be able to get home properly though, it means a lot to me, genuinely.

Dionysia: Oh! Hey Harper! I'm so glad to hear from you! And no worries don't beat yourself up about it. I've been there, had some bad nights, and just fucked around and gotten myself wasted. It's not good obviously but... it happens y'know?

Harper: Yeah I know. Thanks for helping all the same. Hope you've been holding up well.

Dionysia: Yep I've been doing great honestly. Today's one of my days off. Hey by the way I was thinking about something.

Harper: Hm? What was that?

Dionysia: Did you by any chance want to go grocery shopping with me next weekend? I know you're newer to the town and I can show you some of the best stuff we got around here, it could be a good way to try and hit off a friendship I think.

Harper: Oh! I never actually considered that. Sure!

Dionysia: Fuck yeah! See you then girl!

I smiled softly as I put my phone down, taking the cup of instant ramen from the microwave and bringing it to the bar as I sat down. I started to eat, a smile growing on my face. As much as I had kept myself from making close relationships for years, I always felt the need for company. I wanted to try and not allow myself to be too close to anyone, let alone someone who was a local of the source of a Doomsday. But maybe, just maybe this time things would be different. Those I learned to care for would not die. Not this time. I had to make sure of it.

Even Hermenegildo seemed like someone I could get along well with. A person who was in many ways my opposite and far more serious than myself. If I could just start to have friends again, maybe it would help me a bit more. Of course, I was reserved, but the fate of this town was sealed long before I set foot here. And yet there was something deep in my mind that begged me to desist and no longer try to make friends. It wasn't worth it, it could never be. A soft voice of one of the many in my mind. A girl whose head was surrounded by dark grey and stormy clouds.

"You seem happy," Hermenegildo's voice drifted over to where I was sitting.

"Dionysia invited me to go get groceries with her this weekend... I think I'm just happy to sorta get to know people again. I know I shouldn't get too attached but... why not at least hope, you know?" I said. He gave me a quizzical look as I shrugged back and slowly slurped up my ramen from the cup. I could feel his gaze on me, and it was clear he didn't know what to say. Most people tended to assume I would be closed off to anything and everything related to building relationships and though there was some kernel of truth to that, therapy had gotten me pretty far. I wanted to still experience joy and happiness, even if I knew it would be torn away from me once again and destroy my mind. I couldn't help but cling to the good times, just a little. Just a desperate hope that things didn't have to be the way they were.

"That's surprisingly mature," he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he watched me eat. "I suppose I should have known you would be capable of handling that kind of stuff especially when you sobered up... but I guess it's just so different from how you were last night."

"Ugh don't remind me," I groaned. "Trust me, I don't like getting like that around people who I plan to be around more than once. But it's also an itch I can't help but scratch."

"Addiction," his bluntness in the word caught me off guard. I couldn't entirely deny it. After all, it was a form of addiction. It was something I couldn't live without. An urge that refused to go unfulfilled and would lead me down a path of self-destruction.

"Self-harm is more accurate," I mumbled. I continued eating my noodles, though I couldn't help but feel my appetite wane.

"Self-harm is an addiction, scientifically as well. It becomes addictive, you want to do it more because it helps suppress the pain of other matters and allows you to pretend to have control. Beyond that in the brain there's a release of-"

"We're done here Hermenegildo. I'm going to my room," I cut him off in the middle of his thought. I quickly got up, leaving my mostly finished cup of ramen and heading to my room. He didn't try to stop me, rather he reached into his pocket and pulled out his box of cigarettes. A hypocrite through and fucking through it seemed. He just watched with these sad and pitiful eyes. I hated pity, almost as much as I hated being seen for what I was.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next few days were obfuscated and in a strange conglomeration, suffice to say I was dissociating. Thankfully, little of significance occurred. I had transitioned between alters a few times, however, it had little impact on my daily life. Most of the time was spent with Hermenegildo digging through the Internet for further information on the fire as well as reporting everything that we noticed as a peculiarity to IASEC. The higher-ups didn't seem to be expecting much of us this early on and primarily were concerned with our efforts to become acquainted with the locals. The second they learned I had a way to possibly make friends with one of the many in town, they pushed me to take it as seriously as a mission assigned directly from them.

I would have tried my best regardless of whether or not I had been commanded to do so. However, IASEC never took a chance with anything. If they thought they had a way to further their work they would aggressively push for it and ignore any ounce of discomfort from their deployed agents and assets.

I spent most of the morning trying to decide what would look best to hang out with Dionysia in. Frankly, I was going a bit overboard, I'm certain she cared a lot less than I did. Her attention to detail in her attire made me feel like I had to step up my game. She had such a remarkable sense of fashion and the fantastical aura of her attire gave me the most profound sense of aesthetic attraction I had experienced in years. I not only admired her for her abilities in handiwork but was jealous of how confident she was in wearing the things she wanted.

It seemingly didn't matter how anyone would perceive her, she continued to persist in her unique appearance and draw the eyes of anyone with a decent taste in alternative fashions. I knew there was something more to what I was feeling jealous about, my clothes often reflected more masculine aspects, and hers were beautiful and feminine in a way I wished I could have the confidence for.

But of course, I shouldn't have been that preoccupied with it, I was a man, sort of. I could only imagine the kind of cruelty that would come for me in my adulthood for trying once again to be allowed any sense of femininity considering how much I was anathematized for daring to try to be a girl as a child. I was always a failure at it, and yet too feminine to be allowed to be seen as a man. I was a failure on every front and only by using testosterone injections in my late teenage years to my twenty-first birthday ever allowed me to be seen as something other than a failure of either accepted gender.

My true gender was somewhere in between the two or perhaps both in some aspects and would never be understood or accepted whatsoever. I merely did what I had to for survival, it would be wrong of me to try and pretend I understood or deserved the things others did. I was less than human, after all, an Omen. But maybe I am a woman...

I frowned as I looked at myself in the mirror, wishing desperately that my body would be different, and that I could reflect the mental image of my own internalized self. Of course, that would be impossible. Beyond my perception being significantly distinct from how I was, the fact there were others in my mind who made us up meant I couldn't be selfish. No, we kept the body like this out of respect for others. Surely this is what they needed and wanted, and they would suffer as I did now if I changed it. But what if all of myself feels the same? You remember vaguely how I was, do you not Sable? A voice deep inside of my mind called. And yet I could not place it to the right aspect of my being. I knew the version of Harper I was, Sable. While who called out to me was an enigma.

I turned away from the mirror and my thoughts, finishing snapping the corset over my white shirt and long pants. My binder under my clothes flattened my chest, making certain that nobody would have any inkling that I was different. My body being too mixed to be accepted by the world around me was all the incentive I needed to hide my own identity. I had to be a man, if I wasn't... then what was everything for? I couldn't have transitioned the wrong way, I couldn't have been put into hormones to make me more accepted as one of the "proper sexes" only to fall flat on my face and still not be right enough for the world. I despised it when I got like this. I did genuinely like some of the changes the hormones in the past had brought me. I never regretted my past choices, but I hated the world that forced me to choose a box and repressed the other parts of myself.

I looked down at my nails at the ends of my fingerless gloved hands. They were painted a deep black to match the corset around my waist. I tried my best to bite back my anxiety, surely something so small wouldn't lead to nearly as many issues as some of my past forms of expression. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I delicately lifted it out and glanced at the text from Dionysia. A soft smile formed on my lips and I headed out of the apartment I shared with Hermenegildo.

Dionysia was waiting for me outside in her old weathered vehicle. To be honest the SUV wasn't in that bad of shape, just a few bumps and scratches. It was however clear that it wasn't an emblem of prosperity. I didn't mind, it was similar to what I had when I was on my own for a few years before being picked back up by IASEC when everything happened. A secluded memory that I in this state had no way of properly grasping. Gently, I opened the passenger side door and slid in, shutting the door behind me and buckling up.

"You seem a bit different today," she beamed, glancing over to me as I settled in. I reasoned it was inevitable, of all the alters for me to be. I tended to act differently.

"Ah... I'm sorry, I can be a bit... weird at times," I said slowly. I was uncertain what the best course of action would be in this situation.

"Hey hey, don't beat yourself up, hun. I didn't mean it as a bad thing. You actually seem really happy," she pivoted her attention to the road as she shifted gears to drive. Her captivating dark eyes reflected the road as she started towards the grocery store. "I'm just happy you're doing better than the last time I saw you."

"Oh yeah that makes sense, sorry you had to see me like that. It can be embarrassing," I sighed, running a hand through my hair as Dionysia waved one of her hands.

"No worries, see stuff like that all the time. Besides, given what Hermenegildo filled me in on later, I can't blame you. I know someone who was affected by the fires here, and my understanding is your shit with fire was... Even more recent."

"Yeah, I sometimes like now don't find myself that affected by it but I think it was something about the picture from an old article," I shrugged.

"Oh, you poor thing. Yeah those fuckers exploited the hell out of the dead and injured, that was a whole ordeal here," she explained. I nodded as she continued to go on about the details of the situation and the forms of exploitation that occurred. Her friend had been ambushed by news media people shortly after being discharged from the hospital. I couldn't imagine how badly that would have impacted them considering they were only fourteen at the time. I paid attention and interjected a few times with my feelings on it. I articulated my issues with how people would accost me for my traumas, trying my best to stay away from mentions of IASEC itself.

"Oh! Hey, we're here!" she grinned, turning into the parking lot and finding a spot to park. She turned off the car and stepped out, waiting patiently for me to get out as well, looking around the lot for a second.

"Were you planning to use one of the automatic carts as well? Like those for disabled people?" she asked me, locking the car behind me and guiding me across the lot to the store.

"No, I tend to just not bring my mobility aids at the store, I end up being able to use a cart like a walker well enough," I shrugged. She looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding in approval.

"Yeah, I can understand that. I got EDS, Ehlers Danlos. It took me ages to accept even using much of anything for my stuff, let alone those electric chairs. I always got in my head about it y'know? People get weird enough as is about me, standing out further is scary and I sometimes feel like I'm somehow being rude even though I like... literally am disabled."

"Yeah I feel you on that... my legs are sorta deformed," I gestured to my legs, which she finally glanced over to. The way my legs turned more inward than they should and my knees lay closer to the inside of my legs was something a lot of people felt a bit discomforted by or grossed out. She just nodded, glancing back up to my face.

"Ah yeah I see, I would say it looks painful but I get it's the norm for your body," she shrugged. As we got inside the store she walked up to an electric cart, getting it unplugged from the wall and starting it up. I stayed by her side as she got it running. It wasn't too long until we were off, walking around the store with our carts as Dionysia showed me around and helped me know what the best produce was. She also, of course, had some great advice for keeping costs down and what things were best for making on days her flare-ups got bad and it was harder to cook. She was incredibly kind and patient, taking as much time as possible to allow me to pick out my things and not go off ahead of me and leave me alone. We talked about a variety of things and eventually the subject at hand- drifted to the story I had told in the bar the last time I had been there.

"So, that story you told, was it true? I know it may seem odd for me to ask but trust me, it's not disbelief on my part. I know a thing or two about oddities and the supernatural. It's been an interest of mine since I was pretty young," she admitted, slowing her cart down as she leaned over to scan the boxes of pasta on the shelves. I simply watched her, taking a second before deciding I wanted one of my own, and tried to decide how I would approach answering her question. There was always a risk of revealing my true thoughts on the matter. The story I told while drunk could have easily been brushed off as a bit of fun, but if she truly believed in the supernatural and otherworldly it would be a good opportunity to talk to someone here about some of the happenings around town and learn more about the potential Doomsday that was brewing.

"If you believe such things are possible, then yes it's true. If not, then I suppose you can think of it as a story. But regardless I still have the scars and the remains of a skin graft from where a different friend touched me as she was consumed by flames," I said softly. To me it mattered little, I was too detached from the incident and by far too detached from any awareness of the people involved. I knew their names and I knew the facts. Therapy had helped break down enough boundaries to make sure it was possible. However, the emotional amnesia was much more persistent and I had no reason to feel anything especially important or emotionally strong towards the people I had only known as a part of my story and never personally.

"I see, I know the fire my friend experienced was far more... natural. But there's more to them than I let on. They're part of why I believe so strongly in things most people don't. They're gifted in a sense, but to say anything more beyond that may be a bit... much to give away about them. Their name's Angel, they live with me. Well actually I don't see why I would need to hide it from you, you frequent the bar where I work. Or have started to? They're my partner in a sense. They're demi sexual and aromantic themselves, they're a sweetheart though and we were childhood friends for a long time."

"That sounds nice," I said, grabbing the boxes I needed and placing them in my cart. "I am aromantic and asexual, funnily enough. It's a bit weird of a situation. I mean you knew I went off and sorta banged that guy, but it's never had anything to do with attraction for me. It's just.... Issues I have. I need to feel something and forget other things. It's similar to why I sometimes get drunk. Sorry if that's a bit heavy."

"Honestly no I don't see that as too much, it makes sense. You've seen some shit and I got a feeling that wasn't everything either. Beyond that any kind of queerness in this country means you've got a high chance of getting trauma of some sort, people suck ass everywhere. I got shit from that, I got shit from being mixed Blasian and people losing their minds at me dating to claim my Asian heritage, we all got our issues," she explained, continuing down the aisle as I followed her.

"Ah, you're mixed too. I sort of am, it's a lot more complicated. My great-grandmother was more so connected to a tribe but after being in one of the weird boarding schools, according to my grandfather, she was terrified of any connection. This led to my family getting very disconnected and I'm still trying to find ways to reconnect. Specifically to the Shawnee people. I can't claim any ties currently, my life's just gotten in the way of proper connection as badly as I want it, and trying to contact extended family is hard when your parents died when you were early into your teens," I sighed, brushing a bit of my dark curls behind my ear. "Besides I can mostly pass as white so it isn't by any means the same as the shit you get dealt, but I do understand it, even if it's a little."

"Yeah, I can't blame you for being cautious about that generational trauma can be a bitch as well... and I'm sorry about your parents. I may have some issues with my own but at least they're still alive and well," she sighed. I nodded as an awkward silence fell over the both of us.

We continued shopping for a bit longer and eventually, Dionysia spoke up again, going on and on about her partner Angel. It was cute to see her so excited and I couldn't help but feel happy for both of them. Soon enough we were done with our shopping and both checked out our groceries, heading back to her car and properly putting them away. We were about to head into the car when a couple passed by us, they both bore a necklace with what looked to be interlocking rings. The odd thing was how eerily close together they stayed, refusing to be away from each other even the slightest amount. Dionysia stiffened at the sight, making a strange face as she stared onward toward the two as they talked softly and headed to the store. I glanced over to Dionysia, a question in my expression.

"The Union members. I'm sure you've heard of them, a group of nutjobs who've been pushing their weird ideas all over town. Those necklaces are things members often wear," she explained. It didn't seem like that big of a deal, but I couldn't help but find myself disturbed. Dionysia once again gained my attention as she spoke, "I'll help you put these up when we get back to the apartments, as long as you promise to help me with my groceries. Angel is out at work right now but I'll get you guys to meet each other another day," she grinned, hopping back into the driver's seat as I closed the door behind me. I nodded, a sleeping smile on my face. I did think I was starting to like Dionysia quite a bit. I could only hope that I would finally have a proper friend after so many years of wallowing in the past. I found myself dozing off in the car as she drove. I may as well take a small nap.