Red Twilight the Weaver chapter 9

Chapter 9:

Sins of the past

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To: my readers

My name is Louis Dark-O I am a Scholar, Philosopher, Theologian, and a demon. I have sent out twenty copies of this page and the pages that follow, to the ruling bodies of 'Enmack' and any others that may be sympathetic to our intention. Within the 'Darkland' and throughout her Majesty's empires monsters procreate beneath our eyes. Much by accident, I have stumbled into their ranks and ultimately become one of them. Beasts of unspeakable intent lurk among us. Still, not all hope is lost. My body may now be twisted by evil yet my soul remains in tack, and with my last breath of sweet humanity, I intend to reveal them to you and so forth teach you to fight the bastard sons of Satin.

Why you may wonder would a monster come forth against its kin? That part is simple I feel we are a terrible disease and we deserve to die. Some of us embrace evil like my 'friend' Dr. Jake Drake, others are consumed by it. Like the late Winchester child, you will read about in the following pages. And finally, there are ones like myself that would fight and contain their evil, ones that live in suffering rather than die to bliss. To us, death is the last great mercy.

So to the brave, stoic man with indignation in his hart look to the shadows and see me, see my brethren, see that we may look like min but there is no man in us and in the name of god or whatever philosophy you serve strike! Be rid of us or be prepared to become us.

Louis Dark-O

(From the pages of Dr. Jake Drake's diary)

Dec 15th

I have left my home in 'White Bay' after resaving telegraph from my teacher Professor Rudolph Von Wolfwood. His telegraph was veg saying only that he needed assistance from a student he could trust and be prepared for an exscinded tripe for he knows not how long we would be needed. I boarded the 'A-17' train heading west through 'Maries' to 'Alicardo' where Professor Wolfwood joined me.

It has been four years since we had last seen each other in person, so it came as no small shock to me to see how he had transformed from a plump giggling loon to the rugged hairy best he is today. His beautiful gray hair has grown wild, and he has a brisk beard like some mountain man. I feel overdressed as my teacher sits across from me in a coat that looks to be made from wolf's skin and I wear a tan blazer and waistcoat.

"Jake" he bellows in greeting slapping me on the back and half dragging me to the next train, Strange that a man three times my senior would still be so strong. "we must take the S-171 south next to St. Constants where we will then need a horse, three day's we will ride" he then told me.

We are served roast beef that night, he {Dr. Wolfwood} told me why we were there and what we would be doing "the Darkland is now empyreal territory, and there is sickness in the countess house, and it this is sickness we most heal. We will be strangers in a strange land and I will not be alone" the idea I thought ridicules, Called away from my home to play nurse halfway across the globe?

Dec 17th

I was quite amused to watch winter melt to summer as the train trucked forth. There was a several hours delay today do to some mechanical trouble. Know we are told we will not reach the last stop until midday tomorrow. My teacher capitalizes on the extra time by educating me on the customs and experiences I may expect in the Darkland. Only a hand full men in the Darkland will speak our tongue. They will look different then he or I he explains. They will be larger and their skin a strange black or gray color. Many of them do not yet enjoy the pleasures of formalized education and so may seem savage at times. I honestly can't figure what he means to say, it is unimaginable to think there are men anywhere that live so unlike me and mine, in this age where even children have the great gift of literacy and where a telegraph cost but a single bit of copper how can anyone be without? Dare I say it? I believe before I die we will all have a telegraph in our vary den. But maybe I am just spoiled from years of the comforts of school life.

Dec 20th

The scent of dung is repulsive, for two days Wolfwood and I have seen nothing but flooded plains and baboons in men's clothing husking corn and shucking wheat. Not but a moment before picking up this book I saw a woman with a hole drilled in her noise and a chicken skull with a chain hanging from the wound. Even now as my doctor and I are watering our beast, there are twelve naked children standing under a tall oak weaving chains up one's spines in preparation for some voodoo rite where they plan to hang themselves to demonstrate their sexual power. I hold a hanky to my lips to hold back my vomit but somehow can't look away.

The only redeeming quality of this place is when we approach the countess hall things go from savage to slum-like. 'Hookworm fever' is rampant here as is evidenced by the lack of color to the lips of streetwalkers. But on the plus, I find a bottle of rum, a hotel room and escort for less them a silver loon. What I wouldn't give for a good cut of mutton, but I dare not eat the same food as these people.

(Louis Dark-O)

I do not see myself as the saint in my own story if there were an angle to speak of it is the child to whom I was responsible. If I may, when I first saw Jack, I thought him charming. Alongside Wolfwood, I felt him a missionary like I, but I was far from the truth. Jake was a thrill seeker and coming to the Darkland was the most horrid of mistakes he could have made.

You see, the Darkland rewards people for their work by giving them the power to do it better next time. If you are a healer, it will place flowers in your wake, if you are a preacher it will give you books, but if you are a predator, it gives you food to hunt.

After the two doctors find the maggots cultivating in the bosom of the countess they make with the work of suckling them out with leeches, the charming young doctor invites me to join him in partaking of the local flavors. Seeing how I have lived here for some time now and he was just arriving I offered him the pleasure of my experience. He was less than a gentleman.

(Dr. Jake Drake)

Dec 21st

The grapes and eggplants sold at the market here are by far the most absorbent thing you can buy. But if you have the coin people seem fast to line up to help you eat your bounty. Wolfwood is convinced that the food here is toxic and that is why hookworm favor is so prolific. That lead me to think what if I were to take the infected flesh and boil it into soup, would that make it better, and if so, I wonder if my friends up north would want a taste of these primates also. I will need to test this tomorrow, Darklander stow; it might just be the empire's new craze.

(Louis Dark-O)

The Countess was the first to feed Jakes hunger, Wolfwood was not far behind as he had seen the deed being done. The Empyreal foothold on the Darkland is in decent as no doubt you know already. I must say I have no small part to do in this. It seems that Jake has found he has some power over the darkness as he had used it to imprint some part of his unholiness unto me.

I have taken precaution to contain what I have become but by no stretch is it under control. I have tide bells to my body so you might hear me coming, but I fear it makes no heed, for the very smell of meat changes me form a scholarly man to a monster that likes his food to fight, and only eating the eyes of my pray lets me back.

I have tried to fight for my freedom, but it seems that as my father had, Jake Drake has the power to bind me to his will in spite of what I am. So in the name of all that is right left in this world, I say again, fight. When the darkness comes, one is to call kill or be food; there is nothing in-between.

Fin

Louis Dark-O

** *

Corn sleeps under a shelter of sticks, mud, and leaves Rodney nestled with her. In hushed tones, she whispers to him "Do you have a family Rodney?" she lays on her side one arm under head looking up at him.

"I have a twin sister, she used to work in the family operation with me before," he stops "things got complicated, she went one way, and I jumped a boat out here." He nearly cries thinking about her "I do miss her."

"She's a wizard also?" Corn looks amazed "you come from a blessed family."

"Heaves no. I am the magician; she is a cutpurse when people were watching me do my little magic trikes she would walk around and scrounge coin form their pockets." Rodney explains

"You mean to say your family is full of thieving rats!" she looks mad

"No need to raise your voice. It's a perfectly fair way to make a living."

"How did you come to that?" Corn nearly yells at her new friend. She turns her back on Rodney pulling her cloak hard around herself in frustration.

Rodney, mostly oblivious to Corn's expression, continues the talk, "how about you, you're a weaver aren't you? You're wearing a Crimson.

"when I was a youngling, there was talk that I might become the next Weaver, but that never came to pass. Our storyteller was banished, and I took up my mother's work as a forager and a farmer." Corn reflects

"What sort of a community banishes a Weaver? Without a proper teacher, how can you expect to keep any level of focus or discipline?"

"Odidimus, the onetime partner of Jessica the Weaver started a new type of school, he built it around his favorite stories, he calls it the Cannon, 'the most important of our stories' he claims. 'the only ones we need to know' my favorite story isn't even amongst them. I never went to his school. It sounds to me like he had friends from overseas help in choosing the stories."

Rodney shakes his head "can't say I like that idea much. How is one to under such a flag? The trade of art and fable is amongst the oldest of trades, if we all agree to tell only one store then the market will stale."

The two of them sleep a weary sleep that night, and rightfully so. As the first light brakes, the trees grow silent. Rodney's eye pop open from the splintering whispers of a song in the silence. "Come my beautiful, Come to me, a place ever so happy it will be, with soft velvet walls and friends galore lonely you will never be, safe and strong my ropes will burn, once you have heard this loving song. Come little ones, we will have so much fun…"

Rodney struggles not to scream as he holds his muzzle closed and grabs Corn much the same way "Scara the Devourerer!" Corn gasp her mouth falling open, Rodney tightens his grip and pulls her back to his chest to whisper in her ear. "Don't make a sound. Do you hear that singing?"

Corn elbows Rodney to push him off of her "yes I can! Why?"

"That is the song of Scara. That song means that the Devourerer is here."

"I don't know that story, what does it mean?" the ground underfoot shutters slightly then a spear-like claw cracks the shelter with a diameter similar to that of a body. Corn shrills and Rodney grabs her by the nose and breast as she is about to run away.

"she is a monster from the Grate Blue, she has eight legs and four arms, twelve eyes and two mouths with six teeth each, she sings to lure out unwise pray. She likes to hear her food scream before she swallows it whole. She is taller than a tree and wide as a foothill and like a storm come and goes with the wind. She will eat her fill then sleep till it is time to do so again."

The sound of Corn's scream call the force of nature down on them; the claw lifts pulling the shelter apart, a giant head lower to see them. Scara is something in-between being a walking mountain and a giant crab as it looks spider like but is coated in grassy green stone, and ancient carvings cut into it as it slept. Its maw is vast enough to fit small trees within it, but clearly, it likes its food to fight as it shows off its fangs to the mice.

The living landmass eyes shimmer like starlight as it moves its head in close to Corn. Foolishly Rodney jumps in-between them drawing his ax, he swings down for all he is worth and his ax shatters on the skin of the monster. This creates a moment's distraction with which

Rodney starts to push Corn crying "Fly!"

The two of them run from the smashed remains of the shelter making their way deeper into the forest, a line of trees behind them toppled by Scara. The eminent demon howls and lays chase to the two of them thrilled by the game at hand; it prances throwing down its claw shattering stone and wood "come, my children, you are not so clever, soon you will be with me forever."

Corn and Rodney jump and slide, kris and cross desperately seeking a place to hide.

"Rodney! Can't you cast a spell on it or something?" Corn asks

"Did you see my magic tricks? Do you think this thing will be scared off by floating twigs and flowers?" one claw sweeps the ground, Corn ducks into a hole in the ground sliding under it, Rodney is less lucky. He is swept up and dragged high into the air.

Corn turns back to see what has happened, in a strange burst of courage she runs back and jumps onto the legs of the beast striding up its body with surprising grace. Rodney is dropped in its mouth and Corn stands atop one of its eyes, she Draws her bow and fires a blunt arrow into its skull, Scara leers forth throwing Corn to the ground and vomits up Rodney.

"thank you kindly my lady" Rodney complements Corn's good work. The two of them struggles a moment to refine their footing only to see an army of black birds surrounding them. the sky is darkened by the vampiric monsters, "This day just keeps getting better."

A squawk shatters the air "I am Baba-Yung, in the name of Kari, All I see belongs to me!"

The birds fly in attacking Scara, Corn looks to Rodney "Is Kari helping us?"

"Do you want to wait and see?" Rodney grips her arm and keeps running as the monstrous spider starts swatting at birds.

** *

Jessica is a woman who likes predictability, so yet again she shakes herself awake well before dawn and fetches breakfast, pecan, and pineapple being the main dish, a side of sweet leaf water and acorn butter to finish it all off. Butter and Cream are the first two to make it to the breakfast table.

"No, you're not going to learn the Huma language before me. I'm both older and smarter than you." Cream crosses her arms proclaiming her dominance.

"We were born at the same time. As for smarter, what do you measure against?" Butter asks.

"I was the one that found the key to the wardrobe."

"Dad had it in his jewelry box; one of us would have found it sooner or later."

"Yes! And I found it sooner!"

Jessica comes between them "Children. That is enough, what is the point of this?"

Butter and Cream jump up and down proclaiming together "I want to be the new Story

Teller!"

Jessica looks between them "you both a bit old to start training. But then again so was I. but why must only one of you take the job. I have many books, so many so it took me a lifetime to read them all. If the two of you worked together to learn all the tales of history and romance it would take only half the time.

Garlic walks into the room "why isn't there a formal Story Teller in our town right now?"

Jessica lowers her head in reminiscences. "Blood and Politics got in the way of education. There is no other way to say it."

"So, who started it, you or Odidimus?" Garlic asks.

"To be fair, I can't remember, I think he did, but maybe I failed all of you."