Author's Notes & Chapter One - Confession
canisaries
you should've known the price of evil
Hey everyone! Here we finally are. This story's been in the works for a good five years, but I just haven't been able to plan it out... until now.
For those unaware, this is the sequel to Hunter, Haunted, my main story. It will also be the final sequel and the end of Red's story. Length is kind of hard to project, but I have a feeling it will be at least as long as its predecessor, which was 90k. Time will ultimately tell.
If you're wondering whether you can read this without reading HH, I'd love to tell you so, but really the answer is no. You'd be hopping in in the middle of a longer story. Of course, if you'd like to sample this to get a taste of what the story is like, I won't oppose it. Just know that you will be spoiling yourself the end of HH in the process.
Now, because I'm only now writing the first version of this story instead of revising an older one like I did with Hunter, Haunted, I don't 100% know what content will be in there in advance, but there should at least be:
- depictions of violence and gore that may be very strong
- disturbing/disgusting concepts and imagery such as body horror, cultism, torture and cannibalism
- psychological and existential horror
- themes of mental illness such as depression and anxiety as well as attempted suicide
- emotional domestic abuse
- strong language, some misogyny, some homo- and transphobia
- some sexual content and mentions of sexual assault.
Due to all this, The Bringer is rated mature. It's not grimdark, though. The setting continues to be nice, and it's only the protagonist and some people around him that deal with dark themes.
Alright, I think that's all! If you're alright with all those warnings, I hope you enjoy the story. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated - I really want this story to be the best it can be. I have no particular preferences for what type of feedback I'd like, so please, speak your mind freely. Thank you, and here we go.
It’s wet. It’s cold and dark and wet.
I’m lying down on something slimy. I’m naked. So this must be…
Oh Gods.
The sea of tentacles around me rises, wraps around my limbs, and lifts me up to a vertical position. I’m fastened tight. Tight enough for me to know this is not a friendly meeting.
In the darkness ahead, a giant eye opens. It’s got a thin, slit pupil and it glows yellow, illuminating the environment. It’s staring right at me.
Then another eye opens. Another, and another. Soon enough, there’s a whole wall full of them. And all are staring at me.
“RED.”
The voice is a whisper, but a deep, loud whisper. I shudder, and it’s not even because of the cold. My heart is beating faster and faster.
I swallow. “My lord,” I respond.
“I SEE THAT YOU HAVE HAD QUITE THE ADVENTURE.”
I nod, neck tense. “You could say that.”
“AND I SEE THAT YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH A REVERSAL OF PRIORITIES.”
HE must be talking about Him.
“My lord, I can explain.”
“NO,” HE growls. “THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN. YOU HAVE PUT HIM BEFORE ME. YOU KNOW I DO NOT LIKE THAT.”
My heart is pounding already. “My lord, I am sorry, but I have tried, and it is not possible to do what you ask of me. Our bond was forged in madness, and it can’t be undone.”
“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME ABOUT WHAT IS POSSIBLE AND WHAT IS NOT,” HE hisses. “I KNOW THAT BETTER THAN YOU, MORTAL.”
The word ‘mortal’ brings shivers down my spine. Without HIM, I am mortal. Someone that will die. I can’t afford to lose HIS favor.
“WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE TO ME IS THAT YOU HAVE NOT TRIED ENOUGH,” HE booms. “I KNOW THAT BOND CAN BE SEVERED, AND YOU HAVE NOT DONE THAT. THAT MEANS YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME.”
A lone tentacle rises from the sea and curves to face me like an arbok. Its tip splits open, and a shining blade emerges. Oh no.
“AND YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE WHEN ONE DISOBEYS.”
I struggle in HIS grasp, but as soon as I do, it gets even tighter. It’s cutting off the circulation to my arms and legs. HE is serious about this.
“My lord, please,” I wheeze. “Have mercy.”
“PREDATORS DO NOT HAVE MERCY,” HE says, and HE is right. That was a stupid request. Still, I had to try…
The blade-tipped tentacle slithers closer. “PERHAPS THIS WILL BRING YOU PERSPECTIVE.”
It hits me how vulnerable I really am. I really, really don’t want that blade to touch me. “My lord, no, I --”
The blade strikes, driving into my abdomen. Pain. White-hot pain. The sensation of my organs being severed. The sensation of my scream in my throat.
It’s quiet.
It’s warm and dark and quiet.
I’m lying down on something soft. I’m only half-naked. This must be… my bed.
I sigh in relief. Just a nightmare.
But that’s only a small comfort. Because I don’t know how that meeting will go, and it might as well go like this.
I bring my palms to my face and breathe for a bit. It’s okay. It’s okay, at least for now.
I should go back to sleep.
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I respond to Abe’s greeting, then return to watching Fonz and Him. The nidoking fetches the omanyte’s backpack and grabs it with his powerful claws. They’re going to be leaving soon.
“Three days until court,” Abe reminds me. I shudder. I’d say I don’t like to be reminded, but I have to be so that I won’t miss it. That would be catastrophic for me and my freedom.
“And tomorrow the lawyer’s coming over,” he adds. “Don’t forget that, either.”
I already had. Dammit.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, as if there’s any question.
“Of course I am,” I answer. “I could be looking at ten years.” Still a ridiculous sentence for briefly holding someone hostage at knifepoint.
“I’m sure you won’t get that,” he says. “You were possessed. They have to take that into consideration.”
“They could still determine I was doing it under my own volition,” I say. “Which means full sentence.”
Abe shifted in his seat. “Well, if it helps any, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks. It doesn’t.”
“Okay, we’re leaving,” Fonz calls from the hall. I get up immediately, leaving my sandwich on the table, and walk over. Fonz is waiting with Him in his claws and the backpack thrown across his leather jacket covered back.
I smile and lean in to Him. The omanyte looks back with happy eyes. “Have a good day at school, my lord,” I tell Him.
“Thanks, I will,” He responds. “Bye.”
“Bye,” I echo back, and the two walk out of the door.
Oh, how I love Him. Love. It feels so good to be able to admit it.
“Do you want them to be there?” Abe asks.
I turn around. “Gods no,” I spit. “I don’t want my lord to see me treated like a criminal. He barely knows what happened, and that’s the way I want it.”
Abe fidgets with his hands.
I sigh. “What?”
“It… might be better if you don’t call Him ‘your lord’ in there,” he says. “It’s not exactly…”
“Sane?” I huff. “I know. I’m crazy.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s fine, I already know that,” I say. “And I know well enough not to let them see it. I didn’t show it in the psych eval, either. I’m used to having to pretend to be normal.”
“I just want them to see your best side.”
“It is my best side,” I mutter, returning to the table. Well, it is. My love for Him may have been created out of a thousand voices screaming at me when I was twelve, but it’s the most human part of me. The rest is quick to anger and bloodthirsty and overall unfit to live in this society.
“I better hurry up,” Abe says and starts making himself a sandwich. You do that. You have school, after all, unlike me, the pathetic stay-at-home.
I finish my own sandwich and make my way over to the couch. I turn on the TV and search the channels for something bearable. That redecorating show is on. I guess I’ll watch that until Abe leaves.
It’s not too long before that happens. “Bye,” Abe says as he heads out the door, and I say ‘bye’ back. I wait thirty seconds after he’s gone, then turn off the TV and get up.
It’s time to head to the basement, and… meet HIM.
I’m not getting much done here.
I pace back and forth, trying to think of the optimal thoughts to have in my head while facing HIM, but they always fall short. There’s just no way to express how certain I am that I really can’t sever that bond while also being very, very sorry about it. Then again, it shouldn’t matter. HE is going to see into my mind and pry until HE sees everything HE needs to see. I’m just terrified that HE will see something I don’t know, some indication that I really hadn’t tried my best and this bond is only staying due to a lack of effort.
Dammit. I’m never going to face HIM at this rate. I’m just too afraid. But I have to see HIM before court, or it might be ten years before I see HIM again. HE and I need to make some plan. Will HE wait for me if I get the full sentence, for one? Or will I be too much out of the optimal age to become a host? Will HE want me to return HIM to that cave I found HIM in so that HE can search for someone else? Or will HE kill me on the spot for failing HIM? Oh Gods --
No, don’t scare yourself like that. HE wouldn’t kill me. HE would be discovered if HE did, and HE doesn’t want that attention. If HE killed me, HE would wait until I’ve returned him to that cave, at least. And I’d like to believe that HE and I have enough history for HIM not to dispose of me so readily.
I stop myself and sigh. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow after all. I still have two days. Maybe I can think of some angle that’ll lessen HIS anger by then.
Or… maybe I could benefit from an audience.
I walk over to the bookcase on the right side of the room and crouch down to open the cupboards. Eight jars stare back, each with a disembodied human tongue suspended in fluid save for the last one, which is dry with a lock of pink hair. I grab that one and hold it gently.
Oh, Michi. I just wish I hadn’t killed you. It was a stupid accident on my part. You should have stayed alive. You deserved it, unlike the others.
Well, you’ll be my company for now. I set the jar on the tiled floor in front of the others, sit down and begin to talk.
“So… hello, ladies,” I say and clear my throat. “I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I was hoping you could help.”
No response. And that’s good. If there was a response, I’d be royally freaked out.
“See, I have to meet my lord - the one I sacrificed you to, you know the one - but I… I’m scared.”
More quiet. “I have to tell HIM that I’m unable to sever my emotional bond to someone, and for a predator, that’s bad. I’m supposed to be free of earthly attachments in order to be the Bringer - the one that will merge with HIM and ascend to godhood and bring about the new world - but I tried that, and it just didn’t work out. But I’m worried that it is possible, and I just didn’t try hard enough, and that HE will see that and punish me. And you can imagine the punishments that the god of cruelty dishes out. You don’t want that.
“And to make matters worse, there’s a ticking clock. I have court in two days for waggling around a knife while under possession - you’d know about that, Joanna…” I give the jar with pink hair a dirty look. It’s Joanna’s jar, too. “And I could get up to ten years in prison for it. So I have to meet HIM before that. But I’m just… so scared. This could cost me my life, you know. And yeah, yeah, I know you’d all think I was overreacting since I’m half talking about a regular death after a long, mortal life, but you don’t know death. You think you have an afterlife, or that it’s otherwise painless. But HE told me it was painful, and HE knows best. And it’s forever. So I have to avoid that by any means necessary. That’s part of why I killed you all, you know.” I smirk. “Well, just part of it. I did enjoy doing it on its own.”
I pause, and the room falls quiet again. I don’t really know what else to say. Damn. This turned out to be for nothing.
I sigh. “Well, thanks anyway,” I say. “It was worth a shot.”
I lift Michi and Joanna’s jar back among the others and close the cupboard. I’ll just wait until tomorrow. Maybe something will come to me in a dream.
“My lord -- please, I beg of you -- stop!”
The scream falls on deaf ears. A tentacle slithers in to my opened abdomen, grabs onto my small intestine and tugs on it. I can feel it connect to the back of my abdominal cavity, the mesentery stretched to its limits. All the while the bladed tentacle continues to slash at my organs like a machete at jungle vines. And it hurts, hurts more than anything has hurt before.
The pain stops abruptly. I’m back in my bed, covered in cold sweat.
I wait until my breathing has settled, then sigh.
So much for a good night’s sleep before the meeting.
“Two days until court,” Abe had reminded me this morning. Yeah, yeah, I’d thought. I’d hardly been able to think of anything else.
The rest of the morning had passed roughly the same way as the day prior. Fonz and Him left for school, and I told Him to have a good day. But I did look at Him for a while longer this time, knowing there was a teeny-tiny chance that it’d be the last time I saw Him.
After Abe left, I came down to the basement again, but I found myself simply pacing around and going through scripture to try and reverse-engineer HIS mind to have a better idea of how HE would react. But, as I already could have guessed, I found nothing new, and my doubts stayed. I eventually gave up and decided to leave the meeting until tomorrow. I did have my lawyer to meet today.
Alone in the house, I spent the hours like I usually do - watching TV, doing crosswords, reading books I’ve read a hundred times before - until Abe arrived. And then my mother.
It took ten minutes of silence for either of us to speak to each other, and I wasn’t the one to give in.
“So, what happened?” was what she had said.
“I got possessed by a ghost and threatened somebody with a knife,” I’d told her.
“I see,” she had said.
Thankfully, the lawyer showed up not long after. My mother sat quietly while he spoke to me and explained what I should do, which turned out to be ‘nothing’. “Let me do the speaking,” he had said, and I had nothing against that. It’s refreshing not to have to scheme everything in advance.
As for what else he told me, he said I had a good chance of walking away with a minimal punishment. I don’t know if I believe him, but it was nice to pretend. He told me about something called the Ducklett Program - unbelievably saccharine, I know - that young first-timers could be sentenced to if they were under some kind of influence, whether it’d be drugs, mental illness or spectral possession. It had community service, group meetings and therapy. While I’m certainly not excited to babysit old people, it’s better than jailtime. Much better.
The subject changed itself to payment somewhere down the line, and that’s when my mother started speaking again. I was relieved to hear her say she’d pay, even if it was already implied by her having shown up. There was surely a part of her that would have liked to leave me in my own mess. She probably believes I belong in prison, anyway. I’d even go as far as to say there’s no probably.
Everything settled, the lawyer left, and my mother didn’t wait a minute after him. I could tell Abe was sad about her having to leave so soon, but it was definitely better this way. Not that he would know. He wasn’t here when we still lived together, when we used to fight. I’d come close to stabbing her many a time back then.
“Why… is it that you guys never talk?” Abe asked. I’m surprised he dared to, but it’s probably because we’ve started talking about a lot of things we’ve kept quiet about before. Well, he has. I still barely talk. It’s him who keeps pushing the subject of mental health. ‘Are you going to go to therapy?’ One thing at a time, Abe. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got something else on our plate right now.
I take a sip of my glass of water. “Because we hate each other,” I answer him. He hesitates, but ends up shrugging in defeat. And that’s as much as I’m going to be talking about her today.
I can’t wait to sleep.
My breaths are ragged. My guts are somewhere down in the void below. HIS eyes are still staring at me, HIS tentacles picking at organs like murkrow at a carcass. I feel myself die.
---
“One day until court,” Abe had said this morning, as I’d expected him to. He and the others left like usual, and since then, I’ve been pacing back and forth in the basement.
I just… can’t bring myself to do it. The nightmare keeps replaying in my head. More than once, I’ve absentmindedly found myself reaching down to touch my belly to make sure all the organs are still safely inside. Gods. I’m such a coward.
I guess I just have to force myself. I have to do it before tomorrow, and it’s best if I do it while no one else is in the house. While none of them know that the out-of-use locked room isn’t so out-of-use after all, they’re going to be suspicious if they can’t find me anywhere in the house and then I suddenly emerge out of the basement like I’d never left. Or worse, they’ll catch me redhanded exiting the room. I’d have to knock them out and carve a memory eraser in their skin to fix that problem, and then I’d have the new problem of an inexplicable seal on their body.
Okay, let’s just get to it. First order of action, clothes off. Arrive with nothing hidden, as the scripture says. I take off my shirt, my pants and my underwear and fold them onto the table. My hairs raise on end from the sudden cold, but I suspect it’s partly due to the current situation, too. It’s hardly a comfortable position I’m in.
Next thing, removing the cloth draped over HIS fossil. As soon as I lay eyes on the stone, the connection will be made, so I have to keep my eyes closed or otherwise averted until I’m ready. I walk over to the altar HIS fossil is propped up on and pinch the ends of the cloth. My hands are shaking. It’s okay, just do it.
I close my eyes and pull. I take some steps backward, familiar enough with the layout of the room not to bump into anything, and then get down on my knees and lay the cloth next to me on the floor. My eyes are still tightly shut. I’m not ready quite yet.
But there’s nothing else to do. I have to open my eyes and face HIM. Face HIS disappointment and wrath. I just have to be… brave.
But I’m not.
I turn my back to the stone and open my eyes for a moment. My torture board stares back, its board at a slight angle and its straps holding nothing. Old blood stains the wood.
I recall the final illusion Joanna gave me, the one where I was the one strapped to one of those, and shudder. Come to think of it, my nightmare wasn’t very different from that, either. I guess it’s just karma that I’d find myself on the receiving end of a mutilation more than once. If I believed in karma, which I don’t. Really, I’d have gone through so much worse if it was real.
Come on, now, stop stalling and just turn around! Face the music already! Gods! I shove my palm into my forehead. What’s wrong with me? What happened to my unwavering loyalty? High Priest Red, devout follower of HELIX, Bringer candidate number one. Where did that person go?
I have to turn around. I owe HIM everything. I shouldn’t avoid HIM. I shouldn’t keep secrets from HIM. I am HIS.
Then why am I shaking so much?
Shaking and breathing ever quicker. Shallow breaths in and out. It’s starting to sting my lungs. I’m hyperventilating? Since when do I hyperventilate?
I force myself to take deeper breaths, resulting in coughing. This is harder than I expected. I bring my hands to my throat, for some kind of support, I guess, and start over. Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. I feel like I’m suffocating, but I have to keep going. I have to… calm down…
My face twists. A sob escapes my throat. Oh, that’s great, now I’m sobbing. I’m such a coward. I’m a little kid, a brat that can’t face the consequences of his actions…
I place my hands on the floor and lean in. I’m careful not to come even close to peeking at the stone upside down. I find myself shrinking into a ball, and soon, my hands are on my head and my forehead is touching the floor.
So shameful. So utterly shameful. Drawing into the fetal position instead of facing HIM. This isn’t suitable behavior for a predator. I need to straighten myself out.
Like prying metal off its hinges, I take my hands off my head and straighten my back. I ball my hands into fists, close my eyes and turn back around. Part of me is screaming to stop - my self-preservation - but I silence it.
Okay. Here it goes.
Through some act of sheer will, I open my eyes.
The stone stares back, silent.
My shoulders relax just a little. No immediate punishment, at least…
“You have a lot on your mind.”
That voice came from behind. I turn my head, though I already know what to expect - that voice was familiar.
Kohath, the first king of the Helixians stares back at me, arms crossed and body wrapped in white cloth. His two-meter-tall, bronze-skinned frame towers over me, and his yellow eyes are piercing. His mouth, encircled by his dark beard, is neutral in its position.
I bow my head, relieved to see a gentler form of HIS. “My lord.”
“Go through it all in your mind,” HE says. “Let me see.”
I nod and focus. I go back to the day I found Joanna floating around as a yamask, move on to my putting on her mask and failed exorcism, all the illusions she put me through, and the evening I woke up in the hospital with her finally gone.
“You were possessed,” HE says. “And now you’re free.”
I nod. “That is right, my lord.”
“And during this experience, you have come to the conclusion that it is impossible for you to sever your attachment to the vessel of my spirit.”
HE is quick to get to the point. “Yes, my lord.”
I hear HIM pace past me. “I am disappointed to hear this.”
HE is disappointed. What does that mean? Does that mean HE will punish me? My body freezes up, readying itself for the worst.
“I will not punish you.”
The tension relaxes. “YOU will not?”
“No,” HE says. “There would be no point.”
I sigh, deeply. It feels like I’m breathing out four lungs’ worth of air.
“Your judgment seems to be sound,” HE says. “It turns out severing that attachment was indeed a task too difficult for you to do. I had my doubts.”
“YOU did?”
“I had to order you to be sure.”
I sigh again. “Then… what is YOUR decision?”
HE stops walking. “You are not my Bringer.”
The weight of HIS words pull me down to the floor. But I expected this, didn’t I? And I have another option in mind?
HE pauses. “It could be acceptable.”
I raise my head, seeking HIM, and find HIM behind me. “You’ll let me find you another Bringer?”
HE lifts HIS chin. “You have shown yourself to be useful,” HE says. “It would be foolish to abandon you so readily. Your search is permitted.”
My shoulders slump in relief. “I will not fail you, my lord.”
“You had better not,” HE says. “That is why I will give you six months.”
Six months to find a replacement? Can I do it in that time?
“You must,” HE continues, “or you must return me to the cave.”
I bow my head. “Understood.”
HE pauses again. “There is something more.”
Something more? What is -- oh, right.
“Yes,” I say. “Tomorrow, I will be taken to court. They might imprison me, for up to ten years.”
HIS hand scratches HIS beard. “I see.”
I swallow. “What will YOU do if that should be the case?”
“You will return in ten years, and you will return me to the cave.”
Tension worsens. So it’s an automatic fail if I’m sent to prison. “What’ll happen in the ascension, then?”
“If you are worthy - and still alive by then - you will receive fangs and claws like the other predators,” HE says, “but you will not receive immortality.”
I nod, shaking. “And if I find you the Bringer?”
“I will repay you with eternal life.”
Gotcha. So I can still be immortal. Good. Great, actually. I just have to find the Bringer, and my worries will be over.
“But do not think it will be an easy task,” HE continues. “I trained you for years to make you suitable as a host. You would have to find someone promising. Someone ruthless, intelligent, in good shape. Someone worthy.”
I nod. “I will succeed, my lord.”
“See that you do,” HE says. HE uncrosses HIS arms. “That is all. Do you have anything else to bring to my attention?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, my lord.”
“Very well. Until next time, my priest.”
Like sand in the desert wind, HE begins to dissipate. I watch HIS form reduce to powder and disappear into the air. Once the last particles are gone, the tension in the air leaves.
HE has left.
I gasp for air. That went… well. That went about as well as it could have. I’d jump from joy and beat my fist in the air, but I’m far too tired. Instead, I pick up the cloth and bring it back to the altar, draping it over the stone.
Oh, wait. I just realized something.
I have no idea where to begin.
“Day of court,” Abe had said. As if it would’ve been in any way possible for me to forget.
Now, it’s half past seven and we’re sitting in a cab, on our way to the courthouse. In about half an hour, a process will begin to determine whether I’m going to live or die. We wanted to be there well in time.
“Nervous?” Abe asks.
I nod. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Can’t argue with that,” he admits. “But, hey… it’ll be alright, you know? Even if you get prison time… we’ll come visit you.”
Not my predominant worry, Abe. But you wouldn’t get it. You don’t fear death like I do. You’re just as ignorant as the rest of them.
“And this is Kanto,” he adds. “Not Unova. Always remember that.”
Well, that much is true. I’m about a hundred times less likely to die via prison stabbing in the former than the latter. Which means I’ll at least get to live out my mortal life instead of dying before I get free.
I yawn. It’s a bit embarrassing. Sure, I usually get up at nine, but I go to bed well in time. Waking up two hours earlier shouldn’t have this big of an effect.
Abe yawns, too. Funny how that works. Herd behavior.
In a few minutes’ time, the cab arrives in front of the courthouse. We get out of the car, and Abe pays. He joins me standing by my side afterwards.
“Ready?” he asks.
I sigh. “Ready,” I lie.
And there we go.
For those unaware, this is the sequel to Hunter, Haunted, my main story. It will also be the final sequel and the end of Red's story. Length is kind of hard to project, but I have a feeling it will be at least as long as its predecessor, which was 90k. Time will ultimately tell.
If you're wondering whether you can read this without reading HH, I'd love to tell you so, but really the answer is no. You'd be hopping in in the middle of a longer story. Of course, if you'd like to sample this to get a taste of what the story is like, I won't oppose it. Just know that you will be spoiling yourself the end of HH in the process.
Now, because I'm only now writing the first version of this story instead of revising an older one like I did with Hunter, Haunted, I don't 100% know what content will be in there in advance, but there should at least be:
- depictions of violence and gore that may be very strong
- disturbing/disgusting concepts and imagery such as body horror, cultism, torture and cannibalism
- psychological and existential horror
- themes of mental illness such as depression and anxiety as well as attempted suicide
- emotional domestic abuse
- strong language, some misogyny, some homo- and transphobia
- some sexual content and mentions of sexual assault.
Due to all this, The Bringer is rated mature. It's not grimdark, though. The setting continues to be nice, and it's only the protagonist and some people around him that deal with dark themes.
Alright, I think that's all! If you're alright with all those warnings, I hope you enjoy the story. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated - I really want this story to be the best it can be. I have no particular preferences for what type of feedback I'd like, so please, speak your mind freely. Thank you, and here we go.
---
THE BRINGER
Synopsis:
After the events of Hunter, Haunted, Red is convinced he is no longer suitable to be the Bringer, the one who will merge with HELIX and bring back the Helixian Kingdom. He must find someone else to fill the position within the next six months or die.
Genre:
Drama
Started:
23rd July 2023
Status:
Ongoing
Length:
TBD
---
Chapter content warnings: gore, body horror. Rating: mature.
---
CHAPTER ONE
Confession
---
THE BRINGER
Synopsis:
After the events of Hunter, Haunted, Red is convinced he is no longer suitable to be the Bringer, the one who will merge with HELIX and bring back the Helixian Kingdom. He must find someone else to fill the position within the next six months or die.
Genre:
Drama
Started:
23rd July 2023
Status:
Ongoing
Length:
TBD
---
Chapter content warnings: gore, body horror. Rating: mature.
---
CHAPTER ONE
Confession
---
It’s wet. It’s cold and dark and wet.
I’m lying down on something slimy. I’m naked. So this must be…
Oh Gods.
The sea of tentacles around me rises, wraps around my limbs, and lifts me up to a vertical position. I’m fastened tight. Tight enough for me to know this is not a friendly meeting.
In the darkness ahead, a giant eye opens. It’s got a thin, slit pupil and it glows yellow, illuminating the environment. It’s staring right at me.
Then another eye opens. Another, and another. Soon enough, there’s a whole wall full of them. And all are staring at me.
“RED.”
The voice is a whisper, but a deep, loud whisper. I shudder, and it’s not even because of the cold. My heart is beating faster and faster.
I swallow. “My lord,” I respond.
“I SEE THAT YOU HAVE HAD QUITE THE ADVENTURE.”
I nod, neck tense. “You could say that.”
“AND I SEE THAT YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH A REVERSAL OF PRIORITIES.”
HE must be talking about Him.
“My lord, I can explain.”
“NO,” HE growls. “THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN. YOU HAVE PUT HIM BEFORE ME. YOU KNOW I DO NOT LIKE THAT.”
My heart is pounding already. “My lord, I am sorry, but I have tried, and it is not possible to do what you ask of me. Our bond was forged in madness, and it can’t be undone.”
“DO NOT SPEAK TO ME ABOUT WHAT IS POSSIBLE AND WHAT IS NOT,” HE hisses. “I KNOW THAT BETTER THAN YOU, MORTAL.”
The word ‘mortal’ brings shivers down my spine. Without HIM, I am mortal. Someone that will die. I can’t afford to lose HIS favor.
“WHAT IT SEEMS LIKE TO ME IS THAT YOU HAVE NOT TRIED ENOUGH,” HE booms. “I KNOW THAT BOND CAN BE SEVERED, AND YOU HAVE NOT DONE THAT. THAT MEANS YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME.”
A lone tentacle rises from the sea and curves to face me like an arbok. Its tip splits open, and a shining blade emerges. Oh no.
“AND YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE WHEN ONE DISOBEYS.”
I struggle in HIS grasp, but as soon as I do, it gets even tighter. It’s cutting off the circulation to my arms and legs. HE is serious about this.
“My lord, please,” I wheeze. “Have mercy.”
“PREDATORS DO NOT HAVE MERCY,” HE says, and HE is right. That was a stupid request. Still, I had to try…
The blade-tipped tentacle slithers closer. “PERHAPS THIS WILL BRING YOU PERSPECTIVE.”
It hits me how vulnerable I really am. I really, really don’t want that blade to touch me. “My lord, no, I --”
The blade strikes, driving into my abdomen. Pain. White-hot pain. The sensation of my organs being severed. The sensation of my scream in my throat.
It’s quiet.
It’s warm and dark and quiet.
I’m lying down on something soft. I’m only half-naked. This must be… my bed.
I sigh in relief. Just a nightmare.
But that’s only a small comfort. Because I don’t know how that meeting will go, and it might as well go like this.
I bring my palms to my face and breathe for a bit. It’s okay. It’s okay, at least for now.
I should go back to sleep.
---
“Morning.”
“Morning,” I respond to Abe’s greeting, then return to watching Fonz and Him. The nidoking fetches the omanyte’s backpack and grabs it with his powerful claws. They’re going to be leaving soon.
“Three days until court,” Abe reminds me. I shudder. I’d say I don’t like to be reminded, but I have to be so that I won’t miss it. That would be catastrophic for me and my freedom.
“And tomorrow the lawyer’s coming over,” he adds. “Don’t forget that, either.”
I already had. Dammit.
“Are you nervous?” he asks, as if there’s any question.
“Of course I am,” I answer. “I could be looking at ten years.” Still a ridiculous sentence for briefly holding someone hostage at knifepoint.
“I’m sure you won’t get that,” he says. “You were possessed. They have to take that into consideration.”
“They could still determine I was doing it under my own volition,” I say. “Which means full sentence.”
Abe shifted in his seat. “Well, if it helps any, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks. It doesn’t.”
“Okay, we’re leaving,” Fonz calls from the hall. I get up immediately, leaving my sandwich on the table, and walk over. Fonz is waiting with Him in his claws and the backpack thrown across his leather jacket covered back.
I smile and lean in to Him. The omanyte looks back with happy eyes. “Have a good day at school, my lord,” I tell Him.
“Thanks, I will,” He responds. “Bye.”
“Bye,” I echo back, and the two walk out of the door.
Oh, how I love Him. Love. It feels so good to be able to admit it.
“Do you want them to be there?” Abe asks.
I turn around. “Gods no,” I spit. “I don’t want my lord to see me treated like a criminal. He barely knows what happened, and that’s the way I want it.”
Abe fidgets with his hands.
I sigh. “What?”
“It… might be better if you don’t call Him ‘your lord’ in there,” he says. “It’s not exactly…”
“Sane?” I huff. “I know. I’m crazy.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s fine, I already know that,” I say. “And I know well enough not to let them see it. I didn’t show it in the psych eval, either. I’m used to having to pretend to be normal.”
“I just want them to see your best side.”
“It is my best side,” I mutter, returning to the table. Well, it is. My love for Him may have been created out of a thousand voices screaming at me when I was twelve, but it’s the most human part of me. The rest is quick to anger and bloodthirsty and overall unfit to live in this society.
“I better hurry up,” Abe says and starts making himself a sandwich. You do that. You have school, after all, unlike me, the pathetic stay-at-home.
I finish my own sandwich and make my way over to the couch. I turn on the TV and search the channels for something bearable. That redecorating show is on. I guess I’ll watch that until Abe leaves.
It’s not too long before that happens. “Bye,” Abe says as he heads out the door, and I say ‘bye’ back. I wait thirty seconds after he’s gone, then turn off the TV and get up.
It’s time to head to the basement, and… meet HIM.
---
I’m not getting much done here.
I pace back and forth, trying to think of the optimal thoughts to have in my head while facing HIM, but they always fall short. There’s just no way to express how certain I am that I really can’t sever that bond while also being very, very sorry about it. Then again, it shouldn’t matter. HE is going to see into my mind and pry until HE sees everything HE needs to see. I’m just terrified that HE will see something I don’t know, some indication that I really hadn’t tried my best and this bond is only staying due to a lack of effort.
Dammit. I’m never going to face HIM at this rate. I’m just too afraid. But I have to see HIM before court, or it might be ten years before I see HIM again. HE and I need to make some plan. Will HE wait for me if I get the full sentence, for one? Or will I be too much out of the optimal age to become a host? Will HE want me to return HIM to that cave I found HIM in so that HE can search for someone else? Or will HE kill me on the spot for failing HIM? Oh Gods --
No, don’t scare yourself like that. HE wouldn’t kill me. HE would be discovered if HE did, and HE doesn’t want that attention. If HE killed me, HE would wait until I’ve returned him to that cave, at least. And I’d like to believe that HE and I have enough history for HIM not to dispose of me so readily.
I stop myself and sigh. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow after all. I still have two days. Maybe I can think of some angle that’ll lessen HIS anger by then.
Or… maybe I could benefit from an audience.
I walk over to the bookcase on the right side of the room and crouch down to open the cupboards. Eight jars stare back, each with a disembodied human tongue suspended in fluid save for the last one, which is dry with a lock of pink hair. I grab that one and hold it gently.
Oh, Michi. I just wish I hadn’t killed you. It was a stupid accident on my part. You should have stayed alive. You deserved it, unlike the others.
Well, you’ll be my company for now. I set the jar on the tiled floor in front of the others, sit down and begin to talk.
“So… hello, ladies,” I say and clear my throat. “I’m in a bit of a pickle, and I was hoping you could help.”
No response. And that’s good. If there was a response, I’d be royally freaked out.
“See, I have to meet my lord - the one I sacrificed you to, you know the one - but I… I’m scared.”
More quiet. “I have to tell HIM that I’m unable to sever my emotional bond to someone, and for a predator, that’s bad. I’m supposed to be free of earthly attachments in order to be the Bringer - the one that will merge with HIM and ascend to godhood and bring about the new world - but I tried that, and it just didn’t work out. But I’m worried that it is possible, and I just didn’t try hard enough, and that HE will see that and punish me. And you can imagine the punishments that the god of cruelty dishes out. You don’t want that.
“And to make matters worse, there’s a ticking clock. I have court in two days for waggling around a knife while under possession - you’d know about that, Joanna…” I give the jar with pink hair a dirty look. It’s Joanna’s jar, too. “And I could get up to ten years in prison for it. So I have to meet HIM before that. But I’m just… so scared. This could cost me my life, you know. And yeah, yeah, I know you’d all think I was overreacting since I’m half talking about a regular death after a long, mortal life, but you don’t know death. You think you have an afterlife, or that it’s otherwise painless. But HE told me it was painful, and HE knows best. And it’s forever. So I have to avoid that by any means necessary. That’s part of why I killed you all, you know.” I smirk. “Well, just part of it. I did enjoy doing it on its own.”
I pause, and the room falls quiet again. I don’t really know what else to say. Damn. This turned out to be for nothing.
I sigh. “Well, thanks anyway,” I say. “It was worth a shot.”
I lift Michi and Joanna’s jar back among the others and close the cupboard. I’ll just wait until tomorrow. Maybe something will come to me in a dream.
---
“My lord -- please, I beg of you -- stop!”
The scream falls on deaf ears. A tentacle slithers in to my opened abdomen, grabs onto my small intestine and tugs on it. I can feel it connect to the back of my abdominal cavity, the mesentery stretched to its limits. All the while the bladed tentacle continues to slash at my organs like a machete at jungle vines. And it hurts, hurts more than anything has hurt before.
The pain stops abruptly. I’m back in my bed, covered in cold sweat.
I wait until my breathing has settled, then sigh.
So much for a good night’s sleep before the meeting.
---
“Two days until court,” Abe had reminded me this morning. Yeah, yeah, I’d thought. I’d hardly been able to think of anything else.
The rest of the morning had passed roughly the same way as the day prior. Fonz and Him left for school, and I told Him to have a good day. But I did look at Him for a while longer this time, knowing there was a teeny-tiny chance that it’d be the last time I saw Him.
After Abe left, I came down to the basement again, but I found myself simply pacing around and going through scripture to try and reverse-engineer HIS mind to have a better idea of how HE would react. But, as I already could have guessed, I found nothing new, and my doubts stayed. I eventually gave up and decided to leave the meeting until tomorrow. I did have my lawyer to meet today.
Alone in the house, I spent the hours like I usually do - watching TV, doing crosswords, reading books I’ve read a hundred times before - until Abe arrived. And then my mother.
It took ten minutes of silence for either of us to speak to each other, and I wasn’t the one to give in.
“So, what happened?” was what she had said.
“I got possessed by a ghost and threatened somebody with a knife,” I’d told her.
“I see,” she had said.
Thankfully, the lawyer showed up not long after. My mother sat quietly while he spoke to me and explained what I should do, which turned out to be ‘nothing’. “Let me do the speaking,” he had said, and I had nothing against that. It’s refreshing not to have to scheme everything in advance.
As for what else he told me, he said I had a good chance of walking away with a minimal punishment. I don’t know if I believe him, but it was nice to pretend. He told me about something called the Ducklett Program - unbelievably saccharine, I know - that young first-timers could be sentenced to if they were under some kind of influence, whether it’d be drugs, mental illness or spectral possession. It had community service, group meetings and therapy. While I’m certainly not excited to babysit old people, it’s better than jailtime. Much better.
The subject changed itself to payment somewhere down the line, and that’s when my mother started speaking again. I was relieved to hear her say she’d pay, even if it was already implied by her having shown up. There was surely a part of her that would have liked to leave me in my own mess. She probably believes I belong in prison, anyway. I’d even go as far as to say there’s no probably.
Everything settled, the lawyer left, and my mother didn’t wait a minute after him. I could tell Abe was sad about her having to leave so soon, but it was definitely better this way. Not that he would know. He wasn’t here when we still lived together, when we used to fight. I’d come close to stabbing her many a time back then.
“Why… is it that you guys never talk?” Abe asked. I’m surprised he dared to, but it’s probably because we’ve started talking about a lot of things we’ve kept quiet about before. Well, he has. I still barely talk. It’s him who keeps pushing the subject of mental health. ‘Are you going to go to therapy?’ One thing at a time, Abe. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got something else on our plate right now.
I take a sip of my glass of water. “Because we hate each other,” I answer him. He hesitates, but ends up shrugging in defeat. And that’s as much as I’m going to be talking about her today.
I can’t wait to sleep.
---
My breaths are ragged. My guts are somewhere down in the void below. HIS eyes are still staring at me, HIS tentacles picking at organs like murkrow at a carcass. I feel myself die.
---
“One day until court,” Abe had said this morning, as I’d expected him to. He and the others left like usual, and since then, I’ve been pacing back and forth in the basement.
I just… can’t bring myself to do it. The nightmare keeps replaying in my head. More than once, I’ve absentmindedly found myself reaching down to touch my belly to make sure all the organs are still safely inside. Gods. I’m such a coward.
I guess I just have to force myself. I have to do it before tomorrow, and it’s best if I do it while no one else is in the house. While none of them know that the out-of-use locked room isn’t so out-of-use after all, they’re going to be suspicious if they can’t find me anywhere in the house and then I suddenly emerge out of the basement like I’d never left. Or worse, they’ll catch me redhanded exiting the room. I’d have to knock them out and carve a memory eraser in their skin to fix that problem, and then I’d have the new problem of an inexplicable seal on their body.
Okay, let’s just get to it. First order of action, clothes off. Arrive with nothing hidden, as the scripture says. I take off my shirt, my pants and my underwear and fold them onto the table. My hairs raise on end from the sudden cold, but I suspect it’s partly due to the current situation, too. It’s hardly a comfortable position I’m in.
Next thing, removing the cloth draped over HIS fossil. As soon as I lay eyes on the stone, the connection will be made, so I have to keep my eyes closed or otherwise averted until I’m ready. I walk over to the altar HIS fossil is propped up on and pinch the ends of the cloth. My hands are shaking. It’s okay, just do it.
I close my eyes and pull. I take some steps backward, familiar enough with the layout of the room not to bump into anything, and then get down on my knees and lay the cloth next to me on the floor. My eyes are still tightly shut. I’m not ready quite yet.
But there’s nothing else to do. I have to open my eyes and face HIM. Face HIS disappointment and wrath. I just have to be… brave.
But I’m not.
I turn my back to the stone and open my eyes for a moment. My torture board stares back, its board at a slight angle and its straps holding nothing. Old blood stains the wood.
I recall the final illusion Joanna gave me, the one where I was the one strapped to one of those, and shudder. Come to think of it, my nightmare wasn’t very different from that, either. I guess it’s just karma that I’d find myself on the receiving end of a mutilation more than once. If I believed in karma, which I don’t. Really, I’d have gone through so much worse if it was real.
Come on, now, stop stalling and just turn around! Face the music already! Gods! I shove my palm into my forehead. What’s wrong with me? What happened to my unwavering loyalty? High Priest Red, devout follower of HELIX, Bringer candidate number one. Where did that person go?
I have to turn around. I owe HIM everything. I shouldn’t avoid HIM. I shouldn’t keep secrets from HIM. I am HIS.
Then why am I shaking so much?
Shaking and breathing ever quicker. Shallow breaths in and out. It’s starting to sting my lungs. I’m hyperventilating? Since when do I hyperventilate?
I force myself to take deeper breaths, resulting in coughing. This is harder than I expected. I bring my hands to my throat, for some kind of support, I guess, and start over. Shaky breath in, shaky breath out. I feel like I’m suffocating, but I have to keep going. I have to… calm down…
My face twists. A sob escapes my throat. Oh, that’s great, now I’m sobbing. I’m such a coward. I’m a little kid, a brat that can’t face the consequences of his actions…
I place my hands on the floor and lean in. I’m careful not to come even close to peeking at the stone upside down. I find myself shrinking into a ball, and soon, my hands are on my head and my forehead is touching the floor.
So shameful. So utterly shameful. Drawing into the fetal position instead of facing HIM. This isn’t suitable behavior for a predator. I need to straighten myself out.
Like prying metal off its hinges, I take my hands off my head and straighten my back. I ball my hands into fists, close my eyes and turn back around. Part of me is screaming to stop - my self-preservation - but I silence it.
Okay. Here it goes.
Through some act of sheer will, I open my eyes.
The stone stares back, silent.
My shoulders relax just a little. No immediate punishment, at least…
“You have a lot on your mind.”
That voice came from behind. I turn my head, though I already know what to expect - that voice was familiar.
Kohath, the first king of the Helixians stares back at me, arms crossed and body wrapped in white cloth. His two-meter-tall, bronze-skinned frame towers over me, and his yellow eyes are piercing. His mouth, encircled by his dark beard, is neutral in its position.
I bow my head, relieved to see a gentler form of HIS. “My lord.”
“Go through it all in your mind,” HE says. “Let me see.”
I nod and focus. I go back to the day I found Joanna floating around as a yamask, move on to my putting on her mask and failed exorcism, all the illusions she put me through, and the evening I woke up in the hospital with her finally gone.
“You were possessed,” HE says. “And now you’re free.”
I nod. “That is right, my lord.”
“And during this experience, you have come to the conclusion that it is impossible for you to sever your attachment to the vessel of my spirit.”
HE is quick to get to the point. “Yes, my lord.”
I hear HIM pace past me. “I am disappointed to hear this.”
HE is disappointed. What does that mean? Does that mean HE will punish me? My body freezes up, readying itself for the worst.
“I will not punish you.”
The tension relaxes. “YOU will not?”
“No,” HE says. “There would be no point.”
I sigh, deeply. It feels like I’m breathing out four lungs’ worth of air.
“Your judgment seems to be sound,” HE says. “It turns out severing that attachment was indeed a task too difficult for you to do. I had my doubts.”
“YOU did?”
“I had to order you to be sure.”
I sigh again. “Then… what is YOUR decision?”
HE stops walking. “You are not my Bringer.”
The weight of HIS words pull me down to the floor. But I expected this, didn’t I? And I have another option in mind?
HE pauses. “It could be acceptable.”
I raise my head, seeking HIM, and find HIM behind me. “You’ll let me find you another Bringer?”
HE lifts HIS chin. “You have shown yourself to be useful,” HE says. “It would be foolish to abandon you so readily. Your search is permitted.”
My shoulders slump in relief. “I will not fail you, my lord.”
“You had better not,” HE says. “That is why I will give you six months.”
Six months to find a replacement? Can I do it in that time?
“You must,” HE continues, “or you must return me to the cave.”
I bow my head. “Understood.”
HE pauses again. “There is something more.”
Something more? What is -- oh, right.
“Yes,” I say. “Tomorrow, I will be taken to court. They might imprison me, for up to ten years.”
HIS hand scratches HIS beard. “I see.”
I swallow. “What will YOU do if that should be the case?”
“You will return in ten years, and you will return me to the cave.”
Tension worsens. So it’s an automatic fail if I’m sent to prison. “What’ll happen in the ascension, then?”
“If you are worthy - and still alive by then - you will receive fangs and claws like the other predators,” HE says, “but you will not receive immortality.”
I nod, shaking. “And if I find you the Bringer?”
“I will repay you with eternal life.”
Gotcha. So I can still be immortal. Good. Great, actually. I just have to find the Bringer, and my worries will be over.
“But do not think it will be an easy task,” HE continues. “I trained you for years to make you suitable as a host. You would have to find someone promising. Someone ruthless, intelligent, in good shape. Someone worthy.”
I nod. “I will succeed, my lord.”
“See that you do,” HE says. HE uncrosses HIS arms. “That is all. Do you have anything else to bring to my attention?”
I shake my head. “Nothing, my lord.”
“Very well. Until next time, my priest.”
Like sand in the desert wind, HE begins to dissipate. I watch HIS form reduce to powder and disappear into the air. Once the last particles are gone, the tension in the air leaves.
HE has left.
I gasp for air. That went… well. That went about as well as it could have. I’d jump from joy and beat my fist in the air, but I’m far too tired. Instead, I pick up the cloth and bring it back to the altar, draping it over the stone.
Oh, wait. I just realized something.
I have no idea where to begin.
---
“Day of court,” Abe had said. As if it would’ve been in any way possible for me to forget.
Now, it’s half past seven and we’re sitting in a cab, on our way to the courthouse. In about half an hour, a process will begin to determine whether I’m going to live or die. We wanted to be there well in time.
“Nervous?” Abe asks.
I nod. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Can’t argue with that,” he admits. “But, hey… it’ll be alright, you know? Even if you get prison time… we’ll come visit you.”
Not my predominant worry, Abe. But you wouldn’t get it. You don’t fear death like I do. You’re just as ignorant as the rest of them.
“And this is Kanto,” he adds. “Not Unova. Always remember that.”
Well, that much is true. I’m about a hundred times less likely to die via prison stabbing in the former than the latter. Which means I’ll at least get to live out my mortal life instead of dying before I get free.
I yawn. It’s a bit embarrassing. Sure, I usually get up at nine, but I go to bed well in time. Waking up two hours earlier shouldn’t have this big of an effect.
Abe yawns, too. Funny how that works. Herd behavior.
In a few minutes’ time, the cab arrives in front of the courthouse. We get out of the car, and Abe pays. He joins me standing by my side afterwards.
“Ready?” he asks.
I sigh. “Ready,” I lie.
And there we go.
---
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