The Black City ch.3 (part 1)

Author's Note: A world of terror. Of drama. Of action.

The Black City.

My favorite story to work on.

[story] [action] [horror]

_______________________________

I oversleep,‭ ‬this morning.‭ ‬Having scavenged some of Syssyx’s food last night,‭ ‬I’m not awoken by the feeling of my stomach gurgling for the first time in months,‭ ‬so I stay in bed and get some much-needed rest.‭ ‬Time to think about the choices ahead of me.

When my eyes finally flicker open,‭ ‬I’m greeted by the sight of the flaking wall opposite my bed stretching and contorting,‭ ‬a face trying to force its way through and into our world.‭ ‬Teeth gnash in slow-motion against the wall’s other side,‭ ‬and through a cracked wooden slat I see a dilated,‭ ‬bloodshot eye peer through at me.‭ ‬Must be saturday.‭ ‬Wall-Face always shows up on saturdays.

Sitting up in bed,‭ ‬I ignore Wall-Face and stumble,‭ ‬naked,‭ ‬into the bathroom,‭ ‬indulging myself in what few ablutions are still possible.‭ ‬I look into the cracked mirror,‭ ‬ignoring the fact that it distorts its reflection of the world behind me‭ ‬--‭ ‬it shows not the other side of the bathroom,‭ ‬but a vast orchard of black,‭ ‬rotted trees,‭ ‬a corpse hanging from wire from each branch.‭ ‬Sometimes the reflection the mirror shows changes,‭ ‬but usually it’s this one.‭ ‬I call it the Garden.

I check my makeup,‭ ‬touching it up in a few places.‭ ‬Been maybe a week since I last applied it,‭ ‬but it’s holding up alright.‭ ‬I clean and straighten my piercings,‭ ‬running what few teeth of my comb remain through tangled black hair.‭ ‬Lately I’m not sure if the visions I see are real,‭ ‬or in my own mind‭ ‬--‭ ‬my thoughts tangled by Zaz’s profane rambling,‭ ‬by this sense of aloneness,‭ ‬being cooped up in this little apartment room.‭ ‬The darkness outside and beyond.‭ ‬It’s hard to tell what thoughts belong to the psychos outside that I have the curse of being an antenna for,‭ ‬or...‭ ‬just mine.

All I know is that I can’t keep living like this.

I trudge back to my room,‭ ‬throwing a moth-eaten black-and-white striped shirt over my head,‭ ‬followed by a black skirt,‭ ‬my boots,‭ ‬and my archer’s glove‭ (‬not super necessary for a crossbow,‭ ‬but does help me keep the thing a little more steady‭)‬.‭ ‬I find myself sitting on the edge of the bed for a while longer,‭ ‬thinking.‭ ‬In the living room I can hear the sounds of a rerun of‭ “‬The Adventures of Billy and the Rest of Billy’s Fingers,‭” ‬and a chuckle from Syx.‭ ‬From the sound of it,‭ ‬it’s one of the better episodes‭ ‬--‭ ‬the one where Billy’s left ring finger‭ (‬the silly one‭) ‬steals a pie that ends up being made of corpse teeth.‭ ‬After a stern lesson about stealing,‭ ‬Billy eats the pie anyway,‭ ‬his mouth bleeding more and more with every bite.

I have to get out of here.‭ ‬I finally stand back up,‭ ‬making my way to the living room to find Syx on the couch where I’d normally be,‭ ‬using her crazy-skin jacket as a blanket and chewing on a dusty old energy bar.‭ ‬I was right about the episode‭; ‬Billy’s just about to take his first bite.‭ ‬I look away from the TV,‭ ‬to the eldritch hybrid woman who just came into my life.‭ “‬I’m coming with you.‭”

There’s a pause,‭ ‬and her bright blue eyes turn towards me with an expression that’s half quizzical,‭ ‬half expectant.‭ ‬Like she knew I’d give in,‭ ‬but not when or why.‭ “‬You’ve taken all the time you need to think,‭ ‬then‭?”

“Yeah.‭ ‬As long as...‭ ‬I mean,‭ ‬if Zaz is willing to come with us,‭” ‬I nod.

‭“‬Surprising loyalty to one of the Young,‭” ‬Syx muses,‭ “‬you two must have really developed a bond.‭” ‬She takes another bite of the energy bar,‭ ‬crunching into it just as Billy’s crunch into the pie.‭ ‬She winces,‭ ‬and turns the TV off.‭ “‬I was never a great fan of this show.‭”

“Nothing else on‭?"

“Just static.‭”

“Right.‭”

She’s silent for a moment after that,‭ ‬then turns her attention back to me.‭ “‬I spoke with Zazkoroth last night for some time.‭ ‬I know you can’t...‭ ‬understand us well,‭ ‬and I’ve asked him to relay his thoughts to both of us simultaneously from now on.‭ ‬Since he understands english but doesn’t speak it,‭ ‬we should hopefully be able to communicate normally.‭”

I furrow my brow and make my way over to the couch,‭ ‬nudging Syx to scoot over so I can sit beside her.‭ ‬I hesitate a moment,‭ ‬then lean back against the couch’s arm,‭ ‬propping my legs up onto her lap.‭ “‬Did you talk to him about anything else‭?”

“Some things.‭ ‬He is...‭ ‬unique among the Young,‭ ‬as far as I can tell.‭ ‬Much of the influence of his birthing seems lost on him,‭ ‬and despite the occasional act of brutality I’d say he’s the most innocent creature I’ve ever met...‭ ‬post-Cracking,‭ ‬of course.‭” ‬Syx pauses,‭ ‬considering her next words.‭ “‬If I didn’t know any better,‭ ‬I’d say you’ve influenced him far more than he’s influenced you.‭”

I purse my lips,‭ ‬leaning my head back to rest my neck on the couch arm.‭ “‬Who knows where either of us would be without each other.‭ ‬Zaz and I have been together for years,‭ ‬just after shit started going downhill‭ ‬--‭ ‬like‭ ‬really downhill,‭ ‬after the Mars Rebellion fell,‭ ‬all that.‭ ‬He was little then,‭ ‬but still kept me safe from those lunatics out there.‭” ‬I sigh,‭ ‬then shrug.‭ “‬Do you have any food left in that pack‭?”

“A few more of these,‭” ‬Syx reaches into her backpack and tosses me an energy bar.‭ ‬Never thought I’d be so excited to see granola.‭ ‬As I unwrap it and crunch in,‭ ‬her fingers trail lightly up and down my bare legs still draped across her lap,‭ ‬more soothing than seductive.‭ ‬Nurturing.‭ “‬I talked to him about leaving,‭ ‬too.‭”

I chew silently for a few more seconds,‭ ‬then swallow.‭ “‬What did he say‭? ‬Or...‭ ‬you know,‭ ‬burble‭?”

“He said he was leaving the decision to you.‭ ‬Things like Zaz don’t have the same demands we do‭ ‬--‭ ‬he has all the food,‭ ‬company,‭ ‬and activity he needs to stay healthy and sane,‭” ‬the tendril-haired beauty hesitates,‭ ‬tracing her fingertips up and down along my pale skin.‭ “‬But he knows you need more.‭”

I nod,‭ ‬exhaling through my nostrils and staying quiet for a little while as I eat the granola bar.‭ ‬I don’t want to put Zaz in a situation where he’ll be uncomfortable,‭ ‬but it has to be worth a try.‭ ‬Worst comes to worst,‭ ‬we come back here,‭ ‬but...‭ ‬if it’s better there,‭ ‬if there’s people,‭ ‬food,‭ ‬water,‭ ‬some semblance of civilization...‭ ‬will I be able to come back‭?

“I’m gonna start packing,‭ ‬then.‭ ‬Zaz still on the roof‭?”

“Last I saw,‭ ‬yes,‭” ‬Syx confirms.

‭“‬Can you tell him to come see me when he comes down‭?”

She nods,‭ ‬and I make my way back to my room,‭ ‬grabbing the biggest and most intact backpack I own‭ ‬--‭ ‬a hefty,‭ ‬black,‭ ‬utilitarian bag with only a few holes eaten through it.‭ ‬I start packing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

An hour passes before I hear the distinct shuffling of a certain amorphous mass making its way into my room behind me.‭ ‬I’ve reached the point where I need to choose what to take and what to leave behind,‭ ‬a bright green stuffed dragon plush in my hands.‭ ‬It’s been burned numerous times at this point,‭ ‬parts eaten by bugs or the rats in the walls.‭ ‬What was once a big,‭ ‬friendly blue eye is now a blackened socket where the polyester melted in on itself.‭ ‬I know I shouldn’t take it.‭ ‬I still want to.

‭“‬SureLy you meann’t to leave behind Draggy,‭ ‬n0t‭?”‬ comes Zaz’s warbling‭ ‘‬voice‭’ ‬in my mind,‭ ‬the psychic radio tower that is my brain well-tuned to his specific signal by now.

‭“‬Only have so much room,‭ ‬Zaz,‭” ‬I sigh softly.‭ “‬Did Syx tell you what I said‭?”

“That we are to bee a-journeYingst,‭ ‬indeed she haz done this thing,‭”‬ he responds.‭ ‬“I implore to not aCcept my trepidatings as worriness,‭ ‬droplet‭ ‬--‭ ‬eagerly I await our kwest.‭”

“I just hope I am.‭” ‬I drop Draggy to the bed and fasten all the buckles on my backpack,‭ ‬slipping it into place and grabbing my beaten-up crossbow.‭ “‬I’d ask if you had anything to bring with you,‭ ‬but....‭”

“Indeed,‭ ‬the Zaz is but a bl0b,‭ ‬things to pozzess are unsenSikal.‭”

“Then I’ll...‭” ‬I frown,‭ ‬glancing back at my room in the middle of shouldering past Zaz.‭ ‬Like it or hate it,‭ ‬it was mine,‭ ‬and has been for a long time.‭ ‬Lot of memories,‭ ‬good and bad.‭ ‬Mostly bad.‭ ‬Largely terrifying.‭ ‬My eyes linger on the stuffed figure of Draggy,‭ ‬laying still and alone on the bed.‭ “‬Then I’ll get Syssyx and meet you downstairs,‭ ‬alright‭?” ‬I squeeze past Zaz completely,‭ ‬and go into the living room,‭ ‬nodding to Syx.

Behind me,‭ ‬Zazkoroth stays still for a long moment,‭ ‬his single massive eye still staring into my room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

‭“‬So you said the crazies don’t bother you‭?” ‬I huff,‭ ‬adjusting my shoulders so that the backpack fits more comfortably.‭ ‬Despite not carrying a lot‭ ‬--‭ ‬mostly clothes and some battered toiletries‭ ‬--‭ ‬it weighs heavy on my light frame,‭ ‬as does the crossbow I’ve been lugging around.‭ ‬It’s been about two hours since we left the apartment,‭ ‬but I can already feel my muscles starting to burn with exhaustion.‭ ‬I have a body built for scouting,‭ ‬not long treks.

‭“‬They do not,‭” ‬Syx answers,‭ “‬not directly,‭ ‬anyway.‭ ‬They always take notice of me,‭ ‬but they seem equal parts curious and fearful.‭ ‬I doubt the deranged will be much of an obstacle,‭ ‬and the camp isn’t much more than a day away.‭”

“Wait,‭ ‬what do you mean‭ ‘‬not directly‭?’ ‬Do they do things,‭ ‬um....‭ ‬indirectly‭?”

“Well...‭ ‬occasionally th--‭”

“Madness Sometimes Attracts Other Mad Things,‭”‬ Zaz burbles ominously,‭ ‬his mental voice uncharacteristically grave.

‭“‬Eeuh...‭ ‬yes,‭ ‬that...‭” ‬Syx furrows her brow,‭ ‬her pallid gaze looking down at the rotund eggplant abomination.‭ ‬Zaz’s single pupil has dilated,‭ ‬his bulk seeming to ripple and churn.‭ “‬Zazkoroth...‭?”

“Alone here,‭ ‬us‭ = ‬n0,‭ ‬yess‭?” ‬Zaz blinks,‭ ‬his gaze returning to focus but the edge to his demeanor remaining.‭ “‬Remembrous are we,‭ ‬as to why goiNg this way is goodn’t.‭ ‬Greater things.‭ ‬Madder things.‭ ‬Those whoms’t taste the Zaz.‭”

“That doesn’t sound good,‭” ‬I say under my breath.‭ ‬I take a moment to get a feel for our surroundings‭ ‬--‭ ‬we aren’t out of the city yet,‭ ‬making our way down a long main street littered with dust,‭ ‬trash,‭ ‬and the occasional necrotic body part.‭ ‬Flickers of emerald lightning occasionally skate across black clouds,‭ ‬as they always do,‭ ‬but something does feel...‭ ‬not right.‭ ‬At our sides are buildings,‭ ‬largely rubble or at least partially destroyed,‭ ‬the windows bashed or blown out by fiery backdrafts.‭ ‬The only possible shelter of note that catches my eye is the‭ ‬138th St.‭ ‬Liquor Store,‭ ‬small but built of sturdy brick,‭ ‬metal bars in the windows.‭ ‬It’ll be a place to retreat into if we have to...‭ ‬and if we can get the door open.

Of much greater significance is the dour hum against the inside of my skull,‭ ‬my telepathic abilities starting to fire off in a way I’m not used to.‭ ‬I’ve been able to tune out the confused,‭ ‬manic thoughts of the crazies‭ (‬or the‭ ‘‬deranged,‭’ ‬as Syx insists on calling them‭)‬,‭ ‬but this feels different.‭ ‬Almost like the twisted thoughts of Zazkoroth,‭ ‬but...‭ ‬bigger.‭ ‬Darker.‭ “‬Zaz is right,‭” ‬I say,‭ ‬dropping my voice to a whisper.‭ ‬I load a bolt into my crossbow.‭ “‬We aren’t alone.‭”

Zaz’s eye flicks back forward,‭ ‬into the dark mist that obscures every horizon in the Black City,‭ ‬and my gaze follows his.‭ ‬Syx looks on edge,‭ ‬her impressive figure poised to react to something she doesn’t yet see coming‭ ‬--‭ ‬she may be cool,‭ ‬but she isn’t as in tune with Zaz as I am.

In the near distance,‭ ‬perhaps some hundred feet away,‭ ‬I see a figure emerge through the mist.‭ ‬I can make out arms and legs,‭ ‬a head.‭ ‬It’s human-sized and human-shaped,‭ ‬even if it does move a bit strangely‭ ‬--‭ ‬almost more like its dragging itself forward,‭ ‬rather than properly walking.‭ ‬Still,‭ ‬with what I’ve seen from the psychos littering the streets,‭ ‬that isn’t all too shocking.‭ “‬Alright,‭ ‬it’s just a guy.‭ ‬I think we’re cool.‭” ‬I lower the crossbow,‭ ‬but keep the bolt loaded in place‭ ‬--‭ ‬just because whatever’s approaching is human doesn’t make it friendly.‭ ‬In fact,‭ ‬the opposite is‭ ‬dramatically more likely.

‭“‬Strange for them to wander alone in the open,‭” ‬Syx murmurs,‭ “‬not huddled away or replaying their old lives.‭”

I move a little closer to the side of the street with the liquor store and move cautiously forward,‭ ‬and the human figure approaches as well.‭ ‬As it draws closer and closer,‭ ‬I notice that more about it than its movements is strange...‭ ‬its arms hang limp,‭ ‬the face seems featureless.‭ ‬Behind it,‭ ‬shadow looms,‭ ‬at first obscured by the darkness and mist.‭ “‬It isn’t human,‭” ‬I whisper.‭ “‬Get back,‭ ‬get back,‭ ‬it isn’t huma--‭!”

Something looms in the darkness,‭ ‬and only now does it become clear.‭ ‬The figure we had seen‭ ‬--‭ ‬human-shaped,‭ ‬but in no way a person,‭ ‬not even one of the deranged‭ ‬--‭ ‬dangles from a cord like a spider’s thread,‭ ‬some fifteen feet in length.‭ ‬At the height of that cord is a head not unlike that of a‭ ‬solpugid,‭ ‬with four massive,‭ ‬scissor-like mandibles and two tiny,‭ ‬close-set eyes that burn a shade of sickly chartreuse.‭ ‬One enormous arm steps forward,‭ ‬the creature walking on its knuckles like a gorilla,‭ ‬though the arm itself is spiny and chitinous.‭ ‬A second arm follows,‭ ‬then a third.‭ ‬The creature is monstrous,‭ ‬dark gray in color to blend with the mist and smoke,‭ ‬its coloration deepening to black at its joints and the ends of its various spines and knobs.‭ ‬Horns like that of a goat or ram spiral out from the back of its insectoid exo-skull,‭ ‬but what little I can make out of its body more closely resembles beast than bug.‭ ‬It’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen,‭ ‬and it’s utterly,‭ ‬completely,‭ ‬silent.

With a snap of its mandibles,‭ ‬it severs the cord hanging from its jaws,‭ ‬and the human figure‭ ‬--‭ ‬like a lure at the end of a fishing line‭ ‬--‭ ‬drops loose.

‭“‬Holy fuck,‭” ‬I whisper.

‭“‬One of the Young‭ ‬--‭ ‬we have to drive it back‭!” ‬I hear Syx gasp,‭ ‬backpedaling a step,‭ ‬her eyes narrowing.‭ ‬Zaz’s thoughts have devolved into a feral scramble,‭ ‬the thing turning aggressive‭ ‬--‭ ‬his skin hardens into inky armor,‭ ‬heaps of tentacles unspooling all at once as he prepares to defend us.‭ ‬I glance back at the liquor store.‭ ‬If we’ll be safe anywhere,‭ ‬it’s there.‭ ‬There’s no bringing this thing down.

‭“‬There’s no fighting this thing,‭” ‬I try not to stammer,‭ ‬locked in fear as I look up at the creature looming over us,‭ ‬nearly twenty feet tall and at least as long,‭ ‬an abomination from the stars.‭ ‬I squeeze my eyes shut and try to will myself past it,‭ ‬let the rambling of the crazies flood my mind,‭ ‬drown out the dread with stupidity.‭ ‬I take a few steps back and lift my crossbow,‭ ‬firing off the bolt I’d loaded before,‭ ‬and it flies towards my target.‭ ‬I’m not a great shot,‭ ‬but it’s hard to miss something the size of a two-story building,‭ ‬and I watch the bolt‭ ‬tink harmlessly off of one of its massive,‭ ‬chitinous arms.‭ “‬Fuck.‭ ‬Fuuuck‭!”

The thing rears up one of those huge arms,‭ ‬its spiney,‭ ‬clawed fingers unfurling and beginning to drive downwards towards me.‭ ‬Its size makes it slow,‭ ‬but there’s a terrifying inevitability to its every movement,‭ ‬like I may still not be able to evade an attack so massive.‭ ‬The arm,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬is bashed sideways by the hurtling figure of Zazkoroth,‭ ‬his tentacles winding around the spikey limb and keeping his body anchored to it.‭ ‬He seems to have swelled in size,‭ ‬attaching his deadly underbelly to the enormous pedipalp and slowly crushing it with his tendrils‭ ‬--‭ ‬like a dozen anacondas constricting around the world’s largest crab claw.‭ ‬The creature’s arm rears back,‭ ‬but still it makes no sound...‭ ‬though the distraction leaves it open for Syx to make an attack of her own.

I wasn’t entirely aware how Syx fought,‭ ‬or even if she could,‭ ‬but it becomes quite clear now.‭ ‬Even as her body backs up,‭ ‬I see another one of her‭ ‬--‭ ‬an illusion,‭ ‬a mirage‭? ‬--‭ ‬summon a pair of daggers into her hands,‭ ‬forming them from solid white light and casting them outward,‭ ‬throwing the glowing blades toward the thing’s face.‭ ‬An instant later,‭ ‬she,‭ ‬or at least the version I had thought was beside me,‭ ‬vanishes completely,‭ ‬leaving only the one that had attacked.‭ ‬She keeps this up,‭ ‬seeming to‭ ‘‬blink‭’ ‬around the battlefield,‭ ‬leaving strange afterimages of herself as she hammers the creature’s durable body with blades of starlight.‭ ‬In only a moment,‭ ‬I’m not sure which one of her is real or an illusion‭ ‬--‭ ‬if she’s teleporting,‭ ‬phasing,‭ ‬duplicating,‭ ‬or what.‭ ‬But what‭ ‬is becoming clear to me is that neither her attacks,‭ ‬nor Zaz’s,‭ ‬are doing much damage.

I load another bolt and fire it as the Young One smashes a claw into one of Syssyx’s copies,‭ ‬which vanishes harmlessly.‭ ‬Panicking,‭ ‬I run for the door to the liquor store,‭ ‬trying to get it open.‭ ‬Locked.‭ ‬Fuck‭! “‬We have to get inside,‭ ‬we can’t beat it‭!” ‬I scream.‭ ‬Zaz,‭ ‬octopus-like,‭ ‬it climbing tentacle-by-tentacle up the thing’s body,‭ ‬pounding it with his limbs and leaving bloody gashes where his underbelly goes.‭ ‬He’s able to stand up to the thing’s huge,‭ ‬slow attacks so far,‭ ‬but I don’t know for how long.

Syx seems to hear me,‭ ‬and I watch as she throws two more blades toward the creature‭ ‬--‭ ‬then am abruptly startled when I hear her voice from behind me.‭ “‬You can’t get in‭?” ‬she says in a hurried whisper.

‭“‬It’s locked‭!”

“Give me a second.‭” ‬She vanishes from behind me,‭ ‬and I start to load another bolt.‭ ‬It isn’t helping,‭ ‬but I have to do something.‭ ‬A moment later I hear a click,‭ ‬and the door swings over,‭ ‬revealing the beautiful hybrid on the other side.‭ “‬I’ve got it,‭ ‬get in‭!”

“I have to wait for Zaz‭!” ‬I shout back,‭ ‬beaming an urgent signal to my old roommate,‭ ‬into his thoughts.‭ ‬The response is...‭ ‬odd.

‭“‬FghnakskjhKIIIi,‭ ‬ajjjj zzzzzzzzzzllkk,‭ ‬I c0me,‭ ‬I am c0minggggghhhhh,‭ ‬GGHnVVvvv000rrrRrrkkk--‭!”‬ He’s hurt,‭ ‬I can feel it.‭ ‬Driven almost mad by being next to one of his own.‭ ‬I have to get him out of here.

I fire another bolt,‭ ‬then another,‭ ‬frantically loading shot after shot and just hoping to distract the creature enough for Zaz to dislodge.‭ ‬Finally,‭ ‬it seems to work‭ ‬--‭ ‬the thing pauses,‭ ‬sees me,‭ ‬and decides to do away with me.‭ ‬With one massive claw,‭ ‬it peels Zazkoroth off of its back,‭ ‬tossing his amorphous shape in my direction,‭ ‬forcing me to dodge.‭ ‬I roll sideways,‭ ‬landing hard on my hip,‭ ‬and yank back the string to fire another shot.‭ ‬It storms towards me and I fire again,‭ ‬just barely able to make out the shape of Syx dragging Zaz’s limp body into the liquor store.‭ ‬He’s safe.‭ ‬Good.

Titanic,‭ ‬silent,‭ ‬one of the Young One’s pointed,‭ ‬spider-like back legs rears up above me,‭ ‬and I stare up at it.‭ ‬I reach for another bolt,‭ ‬but the case is empty.‭ ‬I look sidelong at the other two,‭ ‬at the open door.

‭“‬Raine,‭ ‬come on‭!”

There’s no time.‭ ‬The leg comes down,‭ ‬and I do all I can‭ ‬--‭ ‬throw up one arm to feebly block.‭ ‬I know it won’t help.‭ ‬It’s pure instinct,‭ ‬nothing more.

There’s a flash of light,‭ ‬and I feel the earth rumble beneath me.‭ ‬I hear the backward staggering of massive feet,‭ ‬and for once,‭ ‬I hear a roar.‭ ‬High,‭ ‬crooning,‭ ‬more like a sobbing wail of a colossal human than that of a beast.‭ ‬Then I don’t see anything,‭ ‬or hear anything.‭ ‬My vision goes white,‭ ‬and all I feel are hands around my arms,‭ ‬the sensation of being dragged.

Echoing through me,‭ ‬the vibration of a steel door slamming shut.