Chapter 1:
A Silent Prayer, A Silent Night
The wilting grass twisted over each other, trying to find some sort of comfort from the wind. Raindrops hit each blade ferociously as they bob back and forth, trying to stand upright again. Gushes of wind assault the only car driving along the unkempt road as if it was their life’s goal to push the used Ford into jagged potholes littering the asphalt.
“Did they restrict the area before we came down here?” The question laid thick in the air, waiting to be answered. A pregnant pause lingered before a woman’s voice could be heard,
“The organization’s task force reported that they did, but knowing how incompetent some of them are, it wouldn’t surprise me if they didn''t,” she sighed, then continued,
“Hopefully no more innocent people pass through this town, the report they gave us mentioned them going missing.” A slow nod from the passenger seat ended that tense conversation.
A pair of light browned hands, cuffed with the white fabric of her button-up collared shirt, squeezed the steering wheel, her knuckles turning a flash of white. Her dark, dreaded hair does not dare to fall over her shoulder as she drives, unlike her companion across from her. His light brown hair tumbles over his ears and forehead without one care in the world. An ID card with rounded edges peeked out from the pocket of his worn down jacket, displaying the name Peter P. Lavinski. Beneath that layer was an off-white unbuttoned polo shirt. His shirt clearly showed signs of just being bought, because the creases running down his chest did not match the rest of his sloppy attire along with the price tag still being connected to the sleeve of his shirt.
“You’d think they’d be willing to send someone to clean up the remnant corpse parts along the road,” she took a glance at Peter before turning her attention back to driving, “but I guess they didn’t want to risk sending anyone who wasn’t qualified anywhere near this town.”
Along the treeline, a faint set of buildings can be seen peeking out through the rain and leaves. Lightning strikes behind it, illuminating houses and power lines. Ten feet away, a raggedy sign barely holds up in the storm, faded and missing letters read a name, “FieldFord, the home of National Geographic Appreciation”. Somewhere below it is a smudged number that’s supposed to be the town’s population, but if you look closely, you can make out the number 872.
“Remind me what exactly the higher-ups told you about this town-,” Peter waits for a response, but realizes it fell upon deaf ears as his partner makes no move to speak, “Vivian? Are you even listening to me?” His eyes narrowed with slight annoyance as he repeated his question again.
“They didn’t have much information. All they said was that several people went missing after entering the town. The loved ones of some of the people were able to figure out that their last location was around here. It’s not certain whatever is causing the disappearances, but seeing how we are involved, it must mean it’s related to the paranormal.”
Peter’s brow furrows slightly, not hiding the disdain on his face. His voice slightly rises an octave, “Yes, but what do they expect us to do if we have no information about this case? Just go around town looking for clues, like Sherlock Holmes?” Vivian lets him finish before briefly responding,
“Yes, exactly, and you can blame your brother for that.”
“Oh.”
Vivian slows the car down after it passes the threshold of the town’s entrance, the rainstorm finally coming to a complete halt. She scans the area, noticing that there seem to be people walking about, some of them soaked from the pouring sky, but the overall atmosphere is off. The car pushes forward until it finds a place to park on the side of an empty road. Peter leaves the car first, Vivian in pursuit, tucking the keys into her black slacks, stepping onto the wet ground below.
Animals littered the streets, cats hissed and scratched clods of fur off each other, and dogs growled with the whites of their eyes showing. Yet the townies never spared a glance, they just idly walked by as if it was a normal sight to see in Fieldford. Vivian pulls out a gently used notebook and pen, she reads the faces of the people passing by the poor animals before scratching something down.
“How strange.” She walks forward and grabs an orange cat by its scruff, lifting it above the fight, which causes a pair of flea ridden cats, one seeming to be a kitten, and the other a random tuxedo. The little mewls from the baby makes the orange cat claw at Vivian’s arm. It thrashes while yelping, seeming to never have had this sort of contact before. “I wonder how you all ended up like this.” The animals scatter when Peter approaches, Vivian drops the cat and it follows suit.
“Something isn’t right, everyone’s acting like zombies. Kinda scary if I’m being honest. The report didn’t say anything about this.” Peter points towards a middle-aged man with a shiny bald head, behind him is a small boy wearing a child harness who obediently follows. They both stumble forward as if they just learned to walk, moving forward without paying any mind to their surroundings. Vivian’s demeanor changes.
“Good to see some people still know how to parent their children. Kids these days are too soft.”
“No offense, but if you really think that, then your parents must’ve been pricks.”
“Nonsense, they were good people.” She pursed her lips then continued. “Most of the time, anyway.”
“Should we report all this back to the organization?” Peter said in a worried voice.
“No, not yet. We’re not supposed to update the high-ups until the end of the day. For now, we need to gather more information. Activate your ability and use it to follow the residents to gather more clues on what’s going on with them.”
Peter squeezes his eyes shut and inhales deeply, a small blue jay-like bird appears before him, he establishes meaningful eye contact with it. Wordlessly, the bird flies away and trails the people in town. Vivian nods, then motions for them to continue walking. The town around them looks like it has aged poorly, the upkeep of it is nonexistent. An old courthouse with cracked concrete pillars had become the home of feral cats. The bushes and grass spill over the sidewalk, it causes the two to be overly conscious of their steps. A couple feet away from the old courthouse is a corner shop littered with old posters that clearly dated years ago. Peter glances at the glass window before gasping.
“Is that a Foo Fighters poster?” Peter says as he slightly jogs towards the curb to get a closer look at the dirty glass windows. “My brother loves that band. It’s all he listens to.” He begins to start humming the lyrics. “Before I left for the mission, my brother was playing one of their songs nonstop, he even gave me his Foo Fighters jacket right off his back.” Peter begins to chuckle. “I think he bought a new denim one.”
“You better have washed it before you started wearing it.” Vivian’s nose scrunches in disgust. “Knowing him, after he gave it to you, he probably started wearing that one black shirt with the ketchup stain on it.” She points at Peter’s scuffed Adidas and then at his unbutton collar, “You two are definitely related. Both siblings don’t care about looking presentable.” Vivian reaches out to brush imaginary dust off the front of her button-up shirt, threatening war on any crease that dares to ruin her pristine attire.
Peter shrugs unaffected, “Hakuna matata.”
A thud is heard somewhere inside the store, glass bottles shatter against the dirty tiled floor, it startles the brunette. Another bang shakes the two out of their semi daze, Vivian stands on guard, her hands are placed out in front of her. Her eyes narrow, focused on the rattling building. She approaches the double doors and looks inside, in search of the cause of the noise. Intensely, she stares at the employee behind the chipped, wooden counter. She mentally studies the employee’s every movement, or lack thereof.
Peter cautiously walks behind her, ready to follow any instruction his mentor gives. Even with the sudden intrusion, the corner store employee barely moves their attention towards the duo. Instead, they blankly stare at the shards of dusty and discolored broken glass in front of them. Vivian trails her eyes between the mess and the worker.
“Are you alright?” Her tone now serious, the complete opposite of the earlier conversation. “Do you need some help cleaning that up?” She asked with slight concern in her voice. Silence falls in the air before a lifeless voice can be heard speaking to no one in particular.
“It was an accident, just an accident— I’ll clean it.” Their eyes linger on the shattered shards, never turning their gaze towards Vivian. But as soon as Peter steps near the dusty shelves, they finally turn their body from behind the counter, they stop and kneel in front of the glass. “I’ll clean it.”
They shove their hands into the pile of glass, carelessly grabbing fists full of jagged shards. Vivian tenses, she slowly creeps towards the figure. “What are you doing? Can’t you feel the glass impaling you?” Her voice raises loudly, somewhat agitated. Peter on the other hand takes large strides towards the bloody mess, forcefully gripping the wrist of the corner store worker.
“Would you like something, young man?” They say before turning to Peter with punctured hands full of glass. They extend their hand towards Peter, then proceed to fling the blood and shards in his direction.
Vivian’s eyes widen in alert as she immediately reacts to the unexpected attack on her pupil by grabbing him by the back of his collar and yanking his body behind her before the glass ever has a chance of harming him. The glass and blood falls to the ground with a quiet plop, failing to hit their target.
“What the hell did you do that for?!” Vivian yells while seething and frustrated towards the shopkeeper. “All he did was try and help and you tried to attack him!” She continues on as her brown, formal loafers steps heavily against the cracking glass. Without hesitation, she grabs the thinned fabric of their shirt, forcefully pulling their limp body upwards. The worker’s knees hang off the ground while their feet drag.
“Hey, don’t be too hard on them. They don’t seem all right up there.” Peter voices shakily as he mentally composes himself. “If we can ask them some questions, maybe we can get an idea of what’s going on in this town.”
Vivian deeply inhales, causing her nostrils to flare, she stares into the empty void of the employee''s eyes in search of some type of emotion. “You’re right, but we have to restrain them first. Remember this, if they attack once, they’ll attack again.” The worker’s body hits the ground with a thud while Vivian twists their arms around their back, incapacitating them, yet there is still no sound from them. “Go be helpful and find me something to tie their wrists with.” Peter stumbles past the two quickly, knocking dusty items off the shelves in the process. He spots a small section that has faded bright colors, a toy aisle. “I don’t know if this is helpful, but I found a pair of toy handcuffs,” he shouts from the back of the store.
Vivian gives his direction a disappointed stare and sighs, but nonetheless she contemplates the usefulness of the toy and relents. “Bring them here. I don’t think they’ll try resisting anyway,” she mumbles under her breath quietly, “Paradise really owes me for this.”
Peter grabs the cuffs, then scrambles back to aid Vivian. He passes her the plastic cuffs which are met with a sigh, but regardless, she uses them to restrict the employee. She stands up, glowering at them– waiting for a reaction. When she receives nothing of the sort, she decides it’s time to interrogate. As if second nature, she pulls out her gently used notebook from earlier, scribbling the location and time. “I’ll let you ask the first questions so you can practice, don’t worry if you don’t get any useful information because I will question them after you.” She speaks to Peter, but doesn’t turn to look at him, her eyes remaining on the failed attacker. Peter walks to face the figure, but hesitates to get any closer, remembering the earlier attempt against him. He vouches it will be safer to keep his distance as he crouches to be eye level with his assailant.
“Hey–,” Peter stumbles over his words, cutting himself off before going through with his original thought,“what’s your name, age, and how long have you been working here?” Through the cracked windows, the setting sun starts to shower the trio in evening darkness. Vivian watches her pupil from her standing position. Instead of giving the clumsy interrogator a response, a guttural voice hums from within the worker. Eyes full of hatred, glares soullessly at Peter, smirking.
“You’re not supposed to be here, boy.” The employee giggles, the first time since interacting with them, the figure’s face scrunches and creases. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter responds hesitantly, fearful in his questioning. Vivian inches forward, alarmed and cautious.
The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Little boy, why don’t cha’ stay the night? If you do, maybe the both of us can have a little fun.” Peter looks at Vivian, his face petrified. Vivian decides enough is enough and lays a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. Her face hardens as she pushes Peter slightly, indicating for him to back up. “Tell me why the whole town is filled with people, yet seems to be abandoned, or else you won’t like the way I’ll be forced to make you answer me.” Her eyes meet the thrilled shopkeeper''s as they chuckle; spit drools down their chin like they’re foaming at the mouth, escalating into a maniacal laugh. “If I wanted to be threatened by a bitch I would’ve stayed with my mother.”
“Thought so. Let’s get things heated up.” Her finger twitches as she exhales heavily. Her palms start glowing faintly as she outstretches her arm in front of her, rotating her hand up with two fingers pointed towards the laughing figure, a flame igniting. Her brows furrowed in concentration, the flame in her hand threatening to blaze brighter, basking the corner store in her light. “Last chance to tell us what we need to know, or else I’ll give you something that burns every time you think about me.” The shopkeeper''s face switches back into the blank state from earlier at the sound of the threat. “Actions speak louder than words, you flaming bitch. If you were really going to do it, you would’ve done it by now. All bark, no bite, just like the other little bitches who came to this place before you. They all came here with the same attitude, and they all met the same fate. Dead meat within our stomachs.”
Vivian stares deeply at them with disgust on her face and turns to face Peter. “It’s no longer human, this body is possessed. We’re taking it with us so we can get it to speak, and to put this poor soul to peace.” She pauses and continues, “Use your camera and start taking pictures. After you’re done with that, go pull the car up, and then we’ll take our leave.” Vivian reaches into the front pocket of her slacks and tosses Peter the keys. He nods in compliance. He takes the polaroid camera out of his jacket pocket, his camera is decorated with stickers from various bands, cartoons, and slogans. He walks back and forth of aisles, out of curiosity, he picks up a can of green beans and reads the expiration date, 1956. He takes a picture of that, his polaroid flashing briefly, making a whirring noise before spitting out a square picture. Peter shakes it a couple of times, the image clearing. Once he finishes combing through the aisles, he makes his way behind the counter and cash register where the possessed body originally stood. The register drawer had a key dangling from it, with one crank of the key, the register pops open with a chattering noise. Inside laid a couple pennies and lint. It looked to be empty. Before he closes the drawer back, something tan catches his eye; a yellowed piece of lined paper was crumbled between the tray and metal of the register. Peter reaches his hand inside it, his knuckles scraping against the top of the box as he retrieves the paper. His camera is placed on top of the counter as he uncrinkles the sheet, it reads:
August 12th, 1951
Register: $105.53
Remind JoAnne to count the change drawer next time she closes.
Peter takes a picture of that as well before folding the note into his jacket pocket.
While Peter followed Vivian’s orders, she was pressing the demon hard against the splintered floor. “Great, now stay still. This’ll burn more than your time in hell.” Her hands grip the fake handcuffs, a snap of the plastic rings loud. The handcuffs start to melt beneath her palms, the plastic bubbling from the sheer heat of her wrath before burning into a crisp and igniting. The unlucky body under possession doesn’t even flinch, her flames bring no harm to it, instead she mentions, “I imbued these cuffs with soul severing fire. That toy cuff was just used to restrain that lost body you stole, but these cuffs are made specifically for you.” She removes her hands from its wrist, showing a rope like flame binding the being. “ If you struggle against them, they’ll burn away at your soul– ”, She spits to the side of them as if to cleanse her mouth, “Demon.”
Peter pulls the janky car into the weed-filled parking lot, praying that any animal hiding in the weeds scurry away before he hits them. The lot is so faded that there are no parking spaces visible for him to see, so he opts to just park the Ford directly onto the sidewalk in front of the store, knocking the front of the bumper into the curb. He lightly presses down onto the steering wheel, blaring the horn. Cats screech from their hiding spots in the grass, running their usual escape routes, and Mutts can be heard howling to the tune, but Vivian just looks irked by the sudden noise.
“What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to alert every demon within our radius that we’re here?” Vivian opens the door to the back seat and shoves the grunting demon in as it giggles wickedly to itself. Peter relents his hand from the horn, apologizing. Her gaze turns towards the creature, scowling before slamming the door shut. “I’m sure they already know that we’re here, but even so, we should try to lie low.”
The boy nods and reaches his hand to rest behind the head of the passenger seat as he looks through the back window to reverse onto the street. Gravel crackles beneath the weight of the tires as he pulls off. His attention stays forward as he asks, “So, do you know where we’re staying? Or like, how to get there?” Vivian opens her notebook up, the pages fluttering beneath her kempt fingers as she searches their contents. She lands on a page scribbled with an address, “Yes, we’re staying at this motel a couple blocks from here, just keep straight, and I’ll let you know when to turn.”
The ride went as smooth as it could possibly go on a hole riddled road. Peter made a wrong turn, but to his credit, he somehow managed to end up at their destination within a timely manner. He did receive a complaint from his mentor, and taunts from the demon in the backseat. The Motel looked shady, the parking lot was covered in patches of grass, and even shrubs. The pavement was weathered and littered with trash and various types of animal waste. “This is where we’ll be staying. You''ll use your birds to keep watch outside, and if anyone comes close, they’ll wake us up, and we’ll deal with them.” The entrance of the building is mostly clear, except for a few items scattered about the entryway. Fortunately, the old doors are left ajar from whoever left last, making easy access to the next people who decide to stay. Eerily, there are scratch marks reaching from within the wall of the building, to the outside of the door frame. The marks are bloodied and too wide and long for any animal to make, Peter shudders. The demon cackles in Vivian''s grip, almost barreling over from the sheer force of its laughter. “What’s the matter, little boy? First time you ever seen some real fun?! I remember that guy, he was a real blast to play with, and now that I’m thinking of it, you sure do remind me of him, a pathetic bitch.” Vivian shakes the demon straight, but it continues, “Back in my day, women weren’t allowed to wear pants, but seeing how much of a pussy you are, I’m she''s the man here.”
Peter tightens his fist, his face flusters in humiliation, he attempts to turn to confront the demon, to redeem himself, but an impact on his back flings him onto his knees inside the entrance of the motel. An ear-splitting howl is heard from the beast as a wall of light basks the night in warmth. Vivian’s flames scorch the demon, the body staggering from the pain as its soul is forcefully connected to the body it’s inhabiting. Experiencing a tremendous amount of pain as both the body and soul start to burn and flicker in flames, Vivian’s powers activate as she promised it would.
“Here’s another lesson. Don’t let their antagonizing get to you. They can kill you way faster than you can kill them, and the reason why they don’t kill on sight is because they underestimate humans. They love toying with people who they perceive as weak.” Vivian pauses, but harshly states, “And you proved it right just now. Now that it knows that it can get to you, it’ll keep trying until it dies” The demon cries in pain, unfamiliar with this type of agony, its body thrashes against the restraint, ignorantly causing the flames to consume more of it, her grip tightens. Her attention turns back to the beast, “Let this be my only warning for you, never lay a hand on my student again, it’ll end in you thrashing in pain until I burn you inside out, ceasing you from existing on earth and in hell.”
Peter silently stands, his body tense with emotion. He doesn’t wait to hear orders, he just trudges into the building, searching for a decently kept room. Footsteps follow his suit, but pass by him in the option of a room a couple doors down. She gathers her flames, focusing it into her fingertips, and then slowly opens the door to her room, scouting the entire area before even considering entering. When she finally makes sure the room is safe. She throws the possessed body onto the floor and extinguishes her fire. She decides to pull out her notebook from earlier to study the demon, writing down its behavior, appearance, and any relevant information she can think of. She mentally makes a note of the lack of answers to her questions from earlier that evening. When she lowers her gaze back to the demon, she finds its eyes bloodshot, staring into her being with utter hatred. Vivian is undeterred by its presence, continuing her train of thought.
“Peter, get in here. I’m going to show you how to exercise a demon.” Her attention makes its way back to the demon, directing her next words to it. “Make sure you cherish your last moments here before I send you to a realm worse than hell.” Unrelenting, the demon stares into Vivian''s eyes, trying to reach her soul, its body flinching from the agony of even trying to catch a glimpse of it.
Peter enters the room, his face cold. “Did you think of a way to use your power to exorcize demons yet?” Vivian asks.
“I want to separate the soul of the person who owns the body and the demon. I want to save them. I know I probably can’t do it on the first try, but no matter how long it takes, I still want to try and save this person.” Vivian sighs and sternly tells Peter, “That won’t be possible. Do you really think you’re the first to attempt that? You’re being too optimistic.” His face crinkles up and his voice gets low and agitated. “How is it being too optimistic to try and save their life? If anything, you of all people should be helping me try and do it, isn’t that your job? The entire purpose of mentoring me? Or are you just doing it because my brother told you to?” Vivian’s head turns harshly, a sickening silence falling in the space between them. Her eyes narrow sharply at Peter’s tone, daring him to say more. She closes her eyes, and exhales quietly, her eye twitches. Her figure is recomposing once again.
“Peter, maybe I should’ve rephrased my wording. It’s not that no one wants to save the body and soul of the possessed, it’s that it is an ongoing experiment because it’s risky. The longer the demon is in the body, the harder it is to differentiate between the human soul and the demon. They start to fuse together. If this body here was only possessed for a couple of days, hell– even a week, then it would’ve been possible. But you and I know that this has been years. You saw the state of that store,” she breathes, “Like you stated, I of all people should be onboard with separating their souls. I’ve tried countless times and I’ve failed. After the first failure I was still hopeful, after the fifth, I still had some determination, but after the twelfth I stopped. I’m sorry, Peter, but it’s just not possible at the moment. Either we exorcize them now and they both go to hell in hopes of some chance at living again, or we gamble with their soul and they both shatter.”
“Even so, I want to try.” Peter musters forth his consciousness, splitting pieces of it into a physical form. A blob emerges, and it morphs into the shape of a blue crow with luminescent feathers. He gives Vivian a meaningful look. “Please just let me try for myself.”
She sighs once again, “See if that bird of yours can find the seam of where the demon soul begins and untangle it from the human’s.”
He nods and casts it forward, beckoning it to land on the disheveled demon sprawled on the floor. The bird lands square onto its chest, its talons digging in to find perch. Its head leans back before digging its beak through the fabric of the shirt, passing the skin, muscle, and bones until its body is wedged into the soul of the possessed. It opens its mouth wide, screeching, rattling the space around it. The crows wings spread, fluttering in search of the merging souls. Once spotted, it pecks away at the very seams, ripping apart the hold of the demon, even at the expense of ripping part of the human.
From the outside, the body groans, clawing at its skin, ripping its shirt in the process. It heaves, spitting and gasping for air. “The pain– damn you, the pain.” It kicks widely, lodging its heels into the splitting floor. A second voice appears, “Please, oh god, please.” Vivian frowns, he''s tearing that soul apart. “You bastard, you will die, a grueling death, you will pay, they will hunt you down like dogs, H????????????????E???????????????????????? will engulf your soul and make you suffer until your soul is only a grain, you will die and I will be watching, waiting for you to come visit, my sweet little pussyboy” the demon gurgles its words, foaming at the mouth. Suddenly, everything stops.
The crow’s beak peeks through the hole it originally came from, squirming its head, and then its body until it''s standing on the limp corpse. A piece of a faded substance lies in its mouth. Peter calls, “Come here.” The bird flies towards its master, following his command. He holds his hand out towards the bird, catching the fragment in his palm. The scavenging birds dissipate into micro pieces as the pieces of consciousness return back to Peter.
“Did you learn anything?” Vivian solemnly presses her lips together. “Do you understand what you’re holding?”
Peter’s shoulders shake slightly, his breathing quickens, before he mutely nods. “Yes… I understand.” Vivian walks towards him, laying a gentle hand across his shoulder.
“You did good. You tried your best, you might’ve failed, but at least you tried. The body is still intact, you managed to keep the body whole. I am sure that soul in your hand is grateful for all that you''ve done. Now, let’s send it off to rest.” Her hand falls off his shoulder, pressing against the small of his back, guiding him to the body on the floor. Peter places the speck of soul on the flesh, watching it be absorbed. He lifts the corpse, and follows Vivian to the second floor of the motel, and into a room that has the best conditions. The body is placed onto a bed full of mildew, and it lays, resting in eternal peace. Peter swears he sees a faint smile form on the face of the victim, but when he focuses his vision, the figure is lifeless.
The bedroom is dark. The night sky creeps into the dirty window, stealing any form of light it can find. Vivian sits reluctantly on a bed, grimacing at the thought of the dirt on her clothes. Peter sits on a chair across from her, his body slouched. A tap on the window startles Vivian slightly, but she immediately unlocks and slides the glass pane up, allowing the little bird to enter. As soon as it is in, she latches the window closed, pulling the blinds shut in an act of privacy from the prying eyes of the night. The little bird lands on top of Peter’s head, nesting in his hair before shattering into pieces of consciousness like the crow from earlier.
“What did your bird see?” Vivian sits back onto the bed, sinking slightly into the mattress. “Just more of what we saw earlier. They’re all just walking around, going to school, work, even doing hobbies, but they’re expressionless, unbothered from the surrounding decay. They only become erratic once something out of their control happens to make them. . .just like the shopkeeper. However, they do seem more active at night, they seem full of life when it’s dark. They run, they jump, they start fighting and clawing at each other. What are they? Demons? Ghosts?” Peter frowns, clenching his eyes as he recalls every single thing that his bird saw.
“They’re demons. Worse than ghosts, but not top of the food chain. The one you just exorcized, along with most of the town from what we’ve seen, are weak demons. Usually, when there’s a concentrated cluster of demons in one area, that means there’s a devil around. Devil’s are worshiped by demons, and the worst thing about them is that they’re clever. They know how to trick you, outsmart you, then control you. They can do anything from pretending to be your deceased loved ones to acting like a fellow neighbor. They mimic God.” She takes in a breath in order to stabilize herself, then continues. “Once you kill the devil, the demons no longer have a leader, so they start fighting against each other in order to take over as the new king.”
“So, is the current situation hopeless?” Peter questions in a worried tone. “Not at all, I’ve exorcized several devils in my time with the organization. We just need to report back our findings to the higher-ups about our current situation, then remain vigilant until they send reinforcement. Usually, there wouldn’t be a huge need to report back to the organization so hastily, however, this is the biggest group of demons I’ve ever seen. Us two by ourselves aren’t enough to finish this job, especially since your powers are still developing. Once we tell them the situation, hopefully they''ll send more people like Paradise or other branch leaders.” Vivian remains calm, her face stoic, encouraging Peter to do the same. “Rest assured, your brother will not allow any harm to come our way.”
“Shadows from the past wander and pierce the light of the present, your ally is your foe, and your enemy is your comrade, along the darkness we will recite a silent prayer, to break the silent night.” Peter hums slowly, almost exactly as he’s heard a dozen times before. “The last words my brother said to me before I arrived here. I figured it’s a premonition, all his poems are.”
Vivian’s eyes soften, a smile plays on her lips, “Yes, he would say it just like that.” The night was once cold, freezing the air, but the warmth from the words exchanged between the two made the room comfortable. FieldFord almost seemed normal, making Vivian forget briefly the task at hand. “Go find a shower, you may talk like your brother, but I refuse to allow you to smell like him,” she recalls, “Once you’re done, sleep here after summoning your birds to survey the area while we rest.” Her knees pop as she stands, revealing her age. Her footsteps are light, very skillful. Peter sits quietly before sneakily raising his arm to smell his armpit.
“She’s right. I’ll be done in five.” He mutters to himself while walking into the hallway, in search of a bathroom. He didn''t know that Vivian could hear his every word. “If you come back in less than thirty minutes, I’m feeding you to them.” Her disgust is evident.
Nothing stirs under Vivian’s watch, she likes that. It leaves her time to reminisce on her disciples'' older brother, Paradise. He was the reason she was in this mess in the first place. He was originally assigned this mission, he complained about it a week straight while he was supposed to be researching, but instead Vivian found him scribbling all sorts of poems, hence why the duo knows so little about the town. She was fine with taking the extra mission, she needed the money, what she didn’t know was that it would involve Peter, the younger brother who had no experience besides whatever Paradise felt like teaching him, she knows he took upon himself to teach him Crystal Formation, or something like Foreseeing, which is all his abilities that has little to nothing to do with Peter’s. Vivian sighs, she recalls how she had to explain the organization’s terminology to Peter literally on the car ride here. But, she must admit that she enjoys the company of him. She never found it in herself to teach someone her line of work before, well, she thought of it once, a couple of years ago.
Her train of thought breaks as Peter walks loudly down the hall, “I summoned some of my birds already, you can shower, I left you some hot water. I’m honestly surprised that there is still running water in this town.”
“Good, after I finish up, we will send our information back to the organization using one of your birds, then we will head to sleep,” she steps away, “And that shower was only fifteen minutes long, you’re disgusting.”