28: No Oil Machine
The fog vanished as soon as I stepped over the visibility threshold. In its place, I was greeted by a scene plucked right from the original Brothers Grimm stories, but with a modern suburban twist.
Three redcaps dressed in elementary schooler outfits were running towards and screaming unintelligible nonsense at someone—oh shit, it was Chloe—as she backpedalled. In the hands of the monsters were gnarled wooden clubs that appeared to have come from a truly ancient tree.
The courtyard was small enough that they’d reach her in very short order, but she also had the advantage of a large oak tree as cover. The tree was one of those that was probably planted a million years ago right in the centre of the courtyard with a nice plot marked out for it. It’d outgrown the plot years ago, and the passage of its roots under the soil was vaguely defined by the buckling of the asphalt pavement.
A little hex-bag flew from Chloe’s fingers. It smacked into the leading redcap and exploded into a cloud of sparkling dust. The dust moved like something living—rushing into eyes, nostrils, and mouth. Coughing followed, and their charge faltered.
Chloe drew a jagged shard of metal from her belt and lunged forward, driving it into the neck of a redcap. Blood bubbled up out of the wound when she withdrew the makeshift weapon and went to repeat the process on the next one.
By the looks of things, the two spiteful little creatures weren’t going to just stand there and let her stab them. Clubs rose, and although she dodged the first swing, the other one hit her in the arm.
I leapt into action, raising my axe to strike, but I was forced to pull up short when another hex bag went off. This one burst in midair, releasing a stream of brown sludge that spattered over the redcaps. It began to sizzle and burn like acid, but with a little dash of real flame in the mix. That, it appeared, was too much for the monsters, and they dropped their clubs and tried to wipe the gunk off themselves. That only served to get it on their fingers, where it very quickly ate down to the bone.
Unfortunately, the screaming and fey yelling had brought more friends from the double door entrance into the main school building. Two more redcaps were rushing out, waving more clubs—no wait, one had a hockey stick.
Rather than bother with trying to actually rush over to them, I raised my left hand and brandished the squirrel tooth I used to cast. “Burn!”
Moonlight crashed into them like a hammer, and they fell burning and screaming to the ground. Now that I was more attuned to the storm system, I actually felt the essence of their deaths drift over and infuse my Fallen Angel class with tiny drops of extra power.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked, but it lacked her usual venom. Instead she just sounded… tired, beaten down. “I don’t need baby sitting from the ‘guardian angel’ of Edgewood.”
I frowned and gestured to the school. "I came because I heard more people came in earlier and I didn't want another group to disappear. My main question is why are you so rude to me? What did I do to piss you off? Actually, why is your first thought upon seeing me, 'she's here to babysit me'."
"I…" she began, but trailed off immediately. The muscles of her pale, slender neck shifted as she swallowed, and she looked away.
"You, personally, didn't do anything," she said quietly, although she threw me a glare to remind me she still didn't like me. "It doesn't matter. I'm here to try and save those people too. If you're here… let's go."
Well, that was about as much of a party invite as I was going to get from her. I just nodded. I didn't want anything I said to set her off.
She ducked to check the bodies as she headed for the front door. I couldn't sense any system loot, but that didn't mean there was nothing of value. To my horror, she began using her little shiv to cut off the toes of the redcaps.
I made a gagging sound and averted my eyes. "Jesus Christ."
"I thought you worshipped Ishtar or Cynath or whatever? Redcap toes go in the acid hex bags, by the way. Since you're probably wondering." Chloe commented, stifling a laugh at my expense.
"I do… and that makes sense even if it's gross," I replied, still not looking at the grisly work she was doing. It looked and sounded extra awful because the bodies were so… human. "Wait, and speaking the lord's name in vain is like, bad for Christians. Why would you assume I'm one of them from that?"
"Just because," she said, like it was obvious.
"Well, I'm not," I told her. "Christianity gives me the ick."
"Huh," she grunted. "I agree."
Standing, she held out a little plastic bag that was full of toes. I tried not to gag again.
I followed her to the front door of the school, and we peered inside together. It was immediately apparent that this was no longer the school I went to. Every wall had children's nonsensical artwork scrawled over it, but it was all done with blood. The more I looked at the art, the more fucked up the subject matter became. A happy nuclear family was dining on a meal of human heads in one scene, while another had a kid riding a bike made of bones.
The foyer itself was… different too. Every door bar the main arterial hallway was shut and blocked by gnarled dead tree growth. The hallway that was still open was warped and twisted, and as it receded around a bend that wasn't on the floor plan, the condition of the building degraded. It was like looking into the future of the hallway, where nature and time were taking a progressively higher toll the further down the passage you looked.
"There's no way in hell that two groups of normal people came in here, saw that, and decided to go deeper rather than leaving and reporting to the captain," Chloe said in a nervous whisper. "I feel like I'm staring into someone else's nightmare."
I raised an eyebrow. "Someone else's nightmare?"
She hummed absentmindedly and nodded. "Mine usually involve my parents."
Oh. Geez. Okay… I certainly wasn't expecting honesty of that calibre.
"Right… well, I have a really bad feeling about our potential exit," I said, and turned to look back into the courtyard.
It appeared to be the same…
Crossing it at a jog, we reached the fog wall and I attempted to leave the strange area. It was like trying to walk through a wall of ice cold foam. Fuck.
Staggering backwards, I met Chloe's gaze and shook my head.
"Fuck," she swore, and stepped past to test it herself.
"Cynath?" I called hopefully. "Are you there?"
I waited with bated breath, hoping… pleading for a response. None came.
"Oh, we are so screwed," Chloe said.
I gave an anxious laugh. "I guess we know why everyone went further inside now…"
"Yup," she agreed, and turned back towards the foyer. We returned, but as we stepped over the threshold she instead kicked the bottom lip of the door by accident.
She hit the floor with a crack and cried out in pain. I bent to help her stand, but she shoved my hands away and rolled into a seated position.
"Fuck. Fuck my fucking miserable life. Fuck it to fucking hell," she hissed, thumping a fist on the cold tile floor.
I waited in silence while she fought against rising tears. What was I meant to even do here?
After a couple seconds of very purposeful deep breathing, she laid a hand flat and began to push herself upright. Midway through the move, she stopped and grunted in surprise.
"Look," she said, and finished her climb, then walked towards one of the graffitied walls.
Her finger traced a path through the air, following… some writing. It was partially covered by erratic blood scribbles, but now that she'd pointed it out it was easy to read.
Vivian, firefighter squad leader: We can't leave. The fog won't let us. Enemies in here, not squirrels. Look like goblins but they really like blood. Only way to go is further in. I'll try to write more on the walls inside.
"Well, they survived the welcoming party," I commented. "Nothing from this morning's group though, as far as I can see."
"They probably didn't see it," Chloe replied. "When Vivian and her crew came through the walls were probably clean. I'm speculating here but I think the log from Vivian taught the redcaps they could graffiti the walls. The blood over and around the log is older. So when this morning's group came through, the walls were all gross with blood drawings."
I winced. Chloe was probably right.
"Oh, this is just awesome," I said, with just a little dose of sarcasm. "I'm so excited to see the rest of the school. The art so far has been very interesting."
Chloe gave me a strange look for a split second, then smiled slightly. "Oh… for a second I thought you were being serious."
"Did you not hear the sarcasm?" I laughed, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I did," she growled, suddenly hostile again.
I was so surprised by the sudden mood change that I didn't follow her for a few seconds when she walked over to the creepy hallway and took the first tentative step down it. What… what just happened? What did I do? Why was she so weird?