Ch.154Act 2: Ch.10 – Long Live the King (6)

It wasn’t just the face that had disappeared. The ears were gone too. The blonde hair, even the skin! What remained was just an elongated oval shape, like a clothing store mannequin, nothing more.

Clothes! The clothes were gone too. What appeared beneath the elongated oval was a polyhedron. Like a drawing practice statue, a polyhedron in the shape of a human body made up of triangles, squares, pentagons, and hexagons!

I clawed at the air. Flailing about, my legs gave way. I reached out and collapsed to the ground.

“My hands! My hands!”

My hands weren’t my hands anymore. My fingers, fused together as if cast in plaster, couldn’t spread, separate, or bend. Even the color, the color itself was leaden.

I looked at Crayfield again. I realized his body was also a mixture of gray and blue.

No. No. There was more. Red, yellow, blue, and overlaid on them, the reddish-brown of congealed blood and pus, the unpleasant, glossy green of corpse flies stuck to it, and the distinctive purple of dead blood vessels!

I don’t remember clearly what happened next. All I know for certain is that I jumped up and ran backward endlessly.

At some point, the peaceful grassland spread out again. The Ford with its engine off was still there. My hands, body, skin. They had all returned to their original state.

I felt an unbearable wave of nausea. I grabbed the Ford’s body and gasped for breath. Only after I managed to catch my breath did I see Crayfield walking across the grass. He too was back to his normal appearance, except for the bitter smile that filled his face.

“Quite a shock, wasn’t it?”

“You call that a place? What the hell was that!”

“A part of me that has died.”

Crayfield’s tone was utterly gloomy. The wind scattered his blonde hair. He stood before me, his back to the wind.

“And as I said before, it was where the mansions and party venues of the noble families were located… Of course, what you want to ask is why it looks like that, right?”

The damn grass was slapping against my legs, so I stomped on it irritably. Crayfield gave another bitter smile.

“That place is abandoned space. You might call it dummy data. It was created but for whatever reason… it wasn’t fully implemented, couldn’t appear in the story, or had serious bugs, so it was left unfinished and abandoned. That’s why our bodies break apart like polygon chunks when we go in there.”

“How could no one know about a place like that?”

“If you don’t know it exists, you can’t find it. If I hadn’t shown you beforehand, you wouldn’t have found it either. When other people come to this grassland, they just have fun and leave. Even if they stood right in front of it, they wouldn’t know something like that was there.”

“How is that possible? Is it some kind of secret door?”

“It’s more like it’s been painted over. Like writing something in a notebook, not liking it, erasing it with an eraser, and writing over it. Of course, that doesn’t mean the previous marks completely disappear. It’s similar to something you’d miss if you weren’t paying close attention… Hey?”

My head feels like it’s spinning. Writhing light, like maggots, eats away at my eyes and crawls through my mind, creeping and stirring inside my skull.

“Are you alright?”

A concerned voice. I raised my hand.

“That’s the true nature of Hyperborea. Erased text. The world we’re in now is a covered, overlaid world. We’re writing new text, but occasionally we encounter old stains.”

Those were Emma’s words. What she told me at the café in Arkham’s alleyway. I didn’t doubt Emma. It was just hard to understand. I thought it was merely a metaphor.

But now even Crayfield was saying something similar.

“So, you’re saying this world has been covered over. Did I understand correctly?”

“Yes. Occasionally, things that weren’t fully covered, remnants of the old era, dummies, do pop up.”

“When did it start?”

“Huh?”

“Emma said something similar. About Hyperborea. Hearing you talk, somehow…”

“Then this will go faster. Yes. Hyperborea is part of data that was developed and discarded long ago. The current world is continuously layered and covered over that period. I was a bit surprised that the priestess of Hyperborea still remains…

Well. If you think of it as a hidden profession, I suppose it’s not entirely unacceptable. Anyway, the Drugstore himself has zero coding ability. Even what’s running now is thanks to his capable team members. My point is, what’s in there are ghosts of the past. Grotesque in appearance, but still.”

Crayfield dusted off his legs.

“So. What will you do? Are you willing to see what I want to show you, or would you rather pass? Needless to say, I’m not inviting you to go sightseeing.”

“Let’s go.”

“Are you prepared?”

“No.”

“I see. Let’s go again.”

* * * * *

It wasn’t as frightening as the first time. It was still bizarre, but I had become somewhat accustomed to the environment inside. Setting aside the fact that Crayfield and I had transformed into wooden jointed dolls without eyes, nose, or mouth.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see the broken streets. To be honest, it looked like a diorama model that someone had maliciously crushed. Or perhaps like pudding molded into the shape of buildings and then partially eaten. The once-luxurious buildings were all shattered and covered with an unpleasant purple slime-like substance.

I know this street. More precisely, I had seen a similar scene before. The reservoir in Arkham, the landscape beneath it looked like this.

“Think of it as rendering… or rather, incomplete materialization.”

A stabbing pain in my solar plexus made me stop walking. It felt similar to when I walked the streets of the King in Yellow. But it was bearable, and I didn’t want to hold Crayfield back anymore, so I ignored it.

“Cole. Black. Chase… this was a place of fellowship and harmony for such noble families, a small community of their own. But there were also those who weren’t native to Pollard. The Savio family.”

The shape of the mansion was hideous. Like a black cloth covering a corpse at a crime scene, the buildings here were also covered with something dark. Strictly speaking, it was a dark purple.

On each decoration, bizarre statues could be seen. Dagon. Hydra. Cthulhu… even traces of Yig could be glimpsed on a broken pillar. These were things I had seen somewhere before. Despite being smashed, I could recall each intricate carving in detail.

“Be careful.”

Something dark suddenly appeared before us. A human-shaped form. But different from Crayfield and me. More rounded and… strangely writhing. It looked like what would happen if you poured melted chocolate over a human-shaped doll’s head and let it harden.

“There’s no rule saying people can’t become dummy data too. They’re already puppets. Marionettes moving powerlessly according to design. They won’t harm you, but there’s no good in looking at them for too long.”

There were quite a few of them. I saw a shadow on horseback. I also saw a scene of someone wielding a riding crop, striking someone whose arms were tied behind their back. I saw several shadows huddled in pairs in what looked like bedrooms, taking strange positions. I saw a shadow being thrown out a window, naked and bound.

“The White Hand Mafia gathered all of Pollard’s lower classes, the abandoned, the abused, and built a powerful force. Then they sent an ultimatum to Pollard’s noble families. Compete or coexist? But the wickedness of the noble families surpassed that of the cruel but somewhat naive country old man from Sicily. They didn’t compete. They absorbed them. Made them like themselves.”

“You don’t mean…”

“I do mean that. Giovanni accepted the evil faith. His sickly wife, who didn’t have long to live, volunteered to be the first. But that seems to have been a sort of membership fee. They demanded something bigger.

I don’t know exactly what they said. Maybe something like ‘How can a mustard seed bear great fruit if it doesn’t fall to the ground and die?’ or ‘This is war. There are bound to be casualties.’ Some self-justification.

So his eldest son was chosen. Offer your flesh and blood. Throw away what you hold most dear. Sacrifice what you value most. Then you will be given back just as much.”

Crayfield stopped at a fairly wide yard.

“And this was the Savio mansion.”

* * * * *

Video Clip Playing >

Nar.

Aurora’s bloodshot eyes approached. Her black pupils, like burning coal, were now blazing like the throat of a volcano. Beyond mere heat, it was a devouring fire, a fire of greed.

Comment.

This is a conversation I had with Aurora in her car. Our first date. If you could call it that. That day when either of us could have killed the other with just the movement of a finger.

Aurora’s dialogue:

“I heard your eyes (…) Nothing (…) but me.”

Comment.

The words aren’t clearly audible. It’s like a crackling radio.

Suddenly *you* realize that the conversation isn’t being omitted but fast-forwarded.

Nar.

As they looked into each other’s eyes, Aurora’s heartbeat gradually slowed.

Aurora’s dialogue:

“I know. You here are just a shell. The real you isn’t in this fine skull. It’s deeper. Far, far away, in a distant place. A place no one’s imagination can reach. I was in a field hospital (…)

And the second assistant of Crayfield who killed my brother had eyes like these too. Listen to me. I’ll tell you something that the great Crayfield would never tell you.”

Crayfield’s dialogue:

Giovanni’s old mansion was right there.

The entire family was practically the caretaker of the community.

Aurora’s dialogue:

“My brother killed him. Bang. Bang. Bang. And do you know what happened? Darkness flowed from his body. It devoured my brother. I shot my brother. Gunfire. Hee, hee, hee! My brother and the second assistant shot each other? No. I shot him. I killed my brother!”

Crayfield’s dialogue:

Giovanni accepted the evil faith. (…) His sickly wife volunteered to be the first. But that seems to have been a sort of membership fee. They demanded something bigger.

So his eldest son was chosen.

Catherine Scully’s dialogue (Nar):

[Giovanni’s plan began to falter after an unexpected event: the death of his eldest son, who was considered the heir to the organization, in a shooting incident.]

Comment.

*You* realize that Catherine Scully has “misunderstood.” The only unexpected thing was the shooting. The eldest son wasn’t supposed to die like that. He was supposed to be “offered.”

Aurora’s dialogue:

“And. My younger brother. Saw it. I closed my brother’s eyes. It’s okay, Michael. This is all a dream. A dream. My brother called me a murderer, but I couldn’t cover his mouth. Because he saw the second assistant dispersing like night fog, like dawn darkness.

Can a person disperse like night fog? I saw it. I saw it. No one believed me, but I saw it. That’s when I knew. Even if it’s a fearsome being like my brother, as long as it can bleed, anyone can be killed.

That’s why I truly loved that second assistant. Because he showed me something very precious. After experiencing the battlefield, I clearly understood. Anything that can bleed can be killed.”

Video Clip End >

* * * * *

I struggled to open my mouth. The words didn’t come easily, so I had to summon my courage.

“Crayfield. You were there. With the second assistant. Is that right?”

“I was.”

“Aurora was there too.”

“She was.”

“And her brother…”

“Aurora’s brother, Michael? That child was hiding some distance away. The mansion was collapsing with loud noises, and Savio’s employees and subordinates were evacuating people. I escaped in the confusion.”

“What happened? In this small town. At this house site…”

“Terrible, filthy, and blasphemous things. Things even beasts wouldn’t do. Only the abhorrent things humans can do to other humans.”

Crayfield’s form told those stories in a low voice.

Corruption. Orgies. Murder… Violence and rape were common. The victims couldn’t leave the village. This was a vast land. Neither those trying to escape nor those approaching could evade the eyes of those who closely monitored the expansive grassland.

But the most frightening thing was something else.