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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Bad Medicine 2021
The Daughter of Alias Saga #2: Dis-Synchronicity
Author Message
ALIAS Offline
Space Jesus



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
11-18-2021, 12:01 AM



                                                                                                                              

























































OOC: Trash talk set before Warfare. Doesn't change much, but yeah, thought I'd just point that out given what transpired at the end of that show.

~~~~~



2A: Ever Forward (Redux)



”Ever forward.




Welp, here we go again, folks! In today’s episode of ‘Trying To Use Ya Boy’s Motifs Against Him’, we’re going to hear from a woman who thinks they apply to her as much as they do to the Master of the Fucking Universe. Let’s see how this works out for her! But first, let me bring this down a notch:

Ever forward.

There. That’s better. I gotta say, it feels kind of nice to take some of the razzle-dazzle off of that phrase. I thought I had left all that in the rear view, but hey, the words I said are the words I said, and they’re certainly still floating out there in the Universe, so have at ‘em, kiddos! Far be it for me to criticise somebody trying to do something in that department. Especially after the last couple of bozos made talking about me doing the same, their defining personality trait. But just like the emphatic repetition of that little mantra, that was then. This is now.

This is you, Tav’.

And you’ve been going ‘Ever forward’ too. Right?

Right?!

Wait, what about those loops, lumps, and spins?

Uh oh! Sounds like someone might not be tall enough to ride that roller coaster they were talking about! Ever up and down, inside-out, and round and round we go? Doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, does it. Whatever shall we do?

Not to worry! There’s no height restrictions on the funhouse! Come on in! We’ve got mirrors that make you look fat; mirrors that make you look small; mirrors that make you look short; and mirrors that make you look tall! We’ve even got mirrors that make you look a lot more important and relevant than you really are! That one’s not for you though, Tav’. Chris Page has been standing in front of it for fucking years now. It’s kind of weird though. He’s either always got a hand in his mouth, or keeps getting hit with an inside cradle. HA! It’s a coin toss really.

Don’t worry though. There are plenty of other mirrors in here for you to take a good hard look at yourself through. My personal favourite is the one that makes you look like an idiot for saying things that don’t quite add up, but I won’t force you to take a gander at that one. You’re a big girl, you can do it for yourself.

While I’ve got you here though, I’d like to talk about what’s being reflected back at me.

Ever forward.

Hmph. That excitement of mine has already faded. The lustre has already worn off without all the theatrics, but I’ll keep that in my breast pocket for whenever I want to use it for myself again. Of all the motifs though, all the little quips and phrases of mine that you could’ve honed in on, it’s interesting that you chose that one. With all your self-acknowledged setbacks along the way it seems like it’d be a bit of a stretch to pull that off, if you ask me. As it turns out, I was right. Don’t let anyone say that you’re not up for a challenge though!

You went ‘Ever forward’ too.

Did you though?

It’s a bit rich for me to take some jabs at all the time’s you’ve fallen when I’m a pretty flower pegged to that crown of thorns you’re trying to make for yourself, but what you’ve been through hasn’t been a flagellation before an ascension, Tav’. You might be lucky and eke a crucifixion out of it, but it still won’t end where you think it will. See, on my end, ‘ever forward’ implied a sense of… err… momentum. Shit, if I allow myself a few toots on the ol’ Alias horn, I dare say that ‘momentum’ is even selling myself a bit short. As far as I’m concerned, ‘Ever forward’ described an all encompassing tidal wave that swept the fuck over everything in its path. Your version though? It’s a bit like a little kid in an above-ground pool, decked out in their floaties and kicking like a madman. Forward? Eh… sometimes. In general, not a lot of movement all round, and the waves might look big at first but they kind of just spill over the side and percolate down into the earth. Outta sight, outta mind!

I feel like I’m not telling you things that you don’t already know, but I also feel that you’re not seeing the links between your reality and how this puffed out chest - not in a sexual way! - of yours is gonna be perceived.

‘Ever forward’ means ‘no matter what’. Not ‘when there’s a full-moon out, Jupiter is in retrograde, and Marf’s cock works without even popping one of those little blue pills. No. Matter. What. I think it’s time for you to throw back a red pill, Tav’, and ask yourself if that’s what you’ve been doing? It’s time for you to understand. When I say it swept over everything, I fucking mean everything.

Yourself included.

You touched upon it a bit, so let me dig up this fossil here and expose it in all it’s glory for the world to see! January. That’s when you and I first got a little taste of each other. The tension had yet to reach its crescendo, but on that fateful day?

I stopped you.

There you and Marf were, about to head into your first of… umm, how many?... tag team championship opportunities, and I went on and pulled the fucking rug out from under you before half the fucking roster could evenn make their mouths move in the right way to say the word ‘Dissentients’. I set the course for the two of you straight into the shitter, and surely you’re willing to give credit where credit is due on that front because otherwise you might need to face the possibility of saying Jenny fucking Myst was responsible. We both know she was just along for the ride though.

It was me.

Now, I’m dredging this up to get into a game of one-upmanship with you. There is a very good reason I’m bringing it up. That right there was the first time I put anyone’s shoulders to the mat since my little respawn last year. That started ‘Ever forward’. For me. And if all these slips and stumbles of yours can really be called ‘Ever forward’ too; if that fucking night, where the Dissentients ship was sunk before it ever even launched can… well then I don't think you and I have the same understanding of what 'ever' means. Or 'forward'.

Hey, here’s another cool thought to add to the pile: If that's where all this started (again) for me… you just went and made me better again, didn’t you? Kind of seems like a pattern here. You learn from your failures. Allegedly. But 'learning' seems like a bit of an understatement when it comes to what I do. Tav'.

I become.

And apparently I do it by punching you in the fucking face.

Que séra, séra.

Oops, I was supposed to have tossed that out alongside that ‘ever forward’ shtick. My ‘Doctor’ is going to be so mad at me! In my defense, I found it in the trash with whatever fucking rationale you’re offering. If you insist on going dumpster diving through all my leftovers though, well let me each on in and pull out some of my own

I’ve got a whole lot more ancient shit that I need to revisit.”








2B: Ground Zero

It took me a while to find the place. I had lost the directions, and four months removed from when I had last been here, the surrounding area was near-unrecognisable. Where once shades of brown had lined the dusty road, the rains of fall had brought with them an emerging green, forcing its life upon the once barren landscape. Today, however, the sky kept a lid on it. The clouds were few and far between, and those that were brave enough to splay themselves across the blue sky kept their coats fresh and white.

From the roadside, the camp looked different. Some of the taller trees that clustered in patches between clearings had been felled, thinning out the line of sight between the various campsites. Dotted around the grounds were several newly installed lamp posts, reaching twenty-odd feet into the air. In the light of the day, it didn't really make much difference but I could use my imagination to picture how the entire site would be flooded with a lot more light at night. It was a deliberate move to be here in the morning, to put as much distance between my visit and nightfall as possible. The girl was with me, after all. I couldn’t put her through that. Not again. I was trying to help her. And myself. That’s why I fled that New York law office. And that’s why I came here again, to ground zero.

All in all, it all made for a vista that looked a lot less wild than it had when last I saw it while camping here prior to War Games. Even with the recent rain having brought the edge of the distant lake a little closer to the camping grounds. To top it off, a brand new sign had been staked into the ground between two old redwood posts, with a fresh white coat of paint. Etched into its timber was the camp’s new name: ‘Camp Etabooga’. I scoffed a little. From one immature name to another. Surely that wasn’t a coincidence, right? That had to be some little private joke. The old name was still visible, on a sign still wedged into the ground just a few steps away. It didn’t have the visual pizzazz of the newer model, but there in plain sight were the words ‘Camp Wannapoeia’.

The girl was in a stroller today, and at the moment, she was asleep. It’s probably for the better. It at least gives me a chance to get some way towards getting shit done without fear of triggering her. I didn’t have anywhere I could leave her. I would have if I could. It was hard enough to arrange something to keep her occupied when I had to fight, but at least that was a fully-staffed arena. This was something different altogether. I had to make do with what I had. In an ideal world, she would stay asleep the entire time. Shit, in an ideal world, I wouldn’t even be here at all. But this has never been ideal, has it?

I made my way down the path towards a small shed near the entrance, pushing the stroller along. I took great care in not having the wheels clip on any particular large stones or to steer it through any rough pits in the road. The shed itself wasn’t new, but it had been freshened up with what seemed like the same pot of paint as the sign out front. Or at least, three quarters of it had been. As I rounded towards its front entrance, I caught a view of the opposite side, and the same exposed corrugated iron that I remembered from last time.

“Uh… hello?” I call out. A slight rustling from within responds.

“One second!” adds a voice over top of the other noises. A creak of the ramshackle door signals its opening, and cheerful, reddened cheeks greet me from around a toothy grin. “Hi there! How can I help ya?”

“Are you the camp manager?” I ask.

“Owner-operator!” he announces, brimming with pride. “The name’s Norman! Norman Myers!”

Two fictional serial killers rolled into one. God I hope that isn’t an omen. This place has seen enough death.

“But you can just call me Norm,” the owner continues. That open smile remains pasted across his face as he extends his hand. I shake it, and notice him registering the glove I’m wearing with some curiosity that he tries to hide.

“What happened to George?” I ask, referencing the camp owner that our group had met on our last trip here. The name ‘George’ aside (which if you ask me has seen far too much action recently), I thought it was an innocent enough question. The colour that saps from his face tells me otherwise. The smile fades completely.

“He sold up.” Norm’s voice is shaky, and abrupt.

“After the murders?” Perhaps I could have used a little more tact there.

“Shit…” He palms his face. An old log bench sits to the side of the shed, and Norm drops down into it, staring at the ground. “I’ve been doing what I can to get this place up and running again, but I just can’t get away from all that! How do you even know about it?”

“I was here.”

He gulps. Loud enough to clear a couple of birds out of a nearby tree.

“Oh my God.” That’s all he can muster. Repitition. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“Yeah…” I say. “It was…”

“I can’t even imagine.” He rises from the bench and moves in as if he’s going to hug me. I raise my hand and push back a little on his chest. A hug isn’t what I need now. He obliges, and fumbles around a bit, trying to play it cool.

“I’m here for some… closure, I guess.” I don’t know how else to describe it to him in a way that he’d be able to understand. I rarely do. It’s a challenge when trying to speak to others, but it doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else. This is the same force at play as the one that has driven me for a whole year now. I don’t have to justify myself. I just know what I have to do.

“Of course,” Norm stammers. “Will you be needing a place to stay? I’ve got an empty cabin tonight. I’m happy to let you have it, free of charge. The wife won’t like it, but she doesn’t need to know. I figure it’s the least that I could do given… you know…”

“No.” At least I fucking hope not. I catch Norm startling a bit, and so try to offer a warm(ish) smile to tepper my refusal. “No, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. I don’t think she is either.”

He looks down to where the girl still dozes. That puts a smile of his own back on his face. I can see those coffee-stained teeth poking through.

“The offer’s there if you change your mind,” he says. “Take as much time as you need to do whatever it is you have to do. The park’s pretty empty today, as it always is these days, so you should have near-on free range.”

“Thanks, Norm.” I don’t even try to smile this time. He doesn’t seem to mind. As Norm heads back inside his little shed, I drift off away.







2C: About A Girl

“Where were we?

Ah yes.

Ancient shit.

Let’s go down that rabbit hole then. You wanted to know if there’s still some of that desire for payback simmering underneath the surface for me?

Short answer: No.

Long answer: With the benefit of hindsight, I’m not convinced that it was ever really about payback to begin with. I mean, at its core, sure, that makes sense. I’m not about to try and retcon my emotions or anything like that. One thing that I actually appreciate about you though, Tav’, is your capacity to not necessarily understand the absurd - some things are just bananas after all, but you at least take the time to turn it over in your hand and give it a good ol’ fashioned once-over before you put it down again. So let me throw something out here for you to mull over. Those paths that you mentioned of ours - roads even? - criss-crossing as they may… well, what if they needed to cross?

Let me be clear, I’m not talking about fate here. Fuck fate and everything that resembles it. Let’s throw some more chaos in the works and get even weirder people! More werewolves, phoenixes, and phone booths that can zip across spacetime! A gorilla in a wrestling ring? Fuck yeah, Mighty Joe Young! Throw your shit at Peter Vaughn!

Not fate.

Necessity.

That crispy present you and your then-buddies gave me during our first run-ins? That one that I keep glove upd just so I don’t have to answer as many fucking questions when I’m out and about doing Alias things? It’s what brought me to you and Marf. Take it a step further and we have that little tryst back in January. That set the scene for Leap of Faith. And that pile of ash you left behind inside those cages? That birthed me anew. And now it’s serving you up on a platter for me once again, and I’m here for it! That’s not something I can hold a grudge about. I am who I am because of what I’ve been through, and how I fought to get here. The trick for me now isn’t to seek ‘payback’. It’s just to keep fucking swinging.

Still, even if we take that off the table, you and I aren’t exactly about to braid each other’s hair, either. I do think I’d look pretty fab with a french plait though. You called it a truce, and I guess it’s kind of sweet that you’re thinking that, but if we were in a ceasefire, you wouldn’t be about to get this hand, if you catch my drift.

So what are we?

Friends? That’s a bit much don’t you think?

Allies? Eh… still doesn’t sit right.

You probably got close with ‘it’s complicated’, but I think I brought us closer still. Necessity. To me, Tav’ - for me - you are a tool that comes along whenever I need to rise to the next level. A fucking plot device in my story.

Well consider me already rising.

See, I’ve had my own fair share of helix turns, loop-de-loops, and corkscrews. Just not in that ring. Each time I’ve fought, it hasn’t been to clear the air between myself and whatever schmuck has been across from me. It’s been to clear the air in my mind. To cleanse it. And to piece that motherfucker back together. Every time except for ’one’ of course. Throwback City right there.

It’s been working, too. So much so that now I get to afford myself the luxury of taking the next step. Not just to build the machine but to put it to use. To give myself meaning! I ain’t afraid to admit that. I have no reason to be. No matter how it makes me sound, it’s still backed up by that same, all-conquering drive that’s been there since day dot. Barring ‘one’ exception, of course. It’s that urge to ‘fight’. Shit, call it a ‘battle’ if you want. Call it a fucking ‘war’ even. I win those too, don’t I?

I’ve been waiting for this. Not for you, but for what becomes mine when you go the way of everyone else.

You’re fighting for respect? Maaaan, you cunts just keep coming with those fucking kiddie games, don’t ya? I’m out here fighting for tomorrow though. For my right to determine my own fucking life! The same as I ever was. The same thing that every day I get better and better at accomplishing. You’ve seen what I’ve become now. Just think about what I’m about to become when I take that next step?

Or don’t. I wouldn’t want to spook ya. I know how you run from things that aren’t human. Heh… I see everything. Questions about humanity are a bit on the nose though, aren’t they Wolfsbane?

Me, however? If I’m faced with a monster? I stand my fucking ground. Hand on my fucking holster, ready to draw.

The Label-Gatherer.

The Monster-Hunter.”








2D: There Is No Light

Something rustles in the bushes. The sun has run away, and I… I am alone.

There it is again!

I whip my head around and try to peer through the thick canopy of trees, but the clouds have blanketed the stars and moon, leaving me without any strong source of light. All I see in the woods is more of the darkness. It envelops me, pulling tighter and tighter, suffocating any hope of escape.

A ring of trees surrounds me, and I… I am alone.

Save for the rustle.

“Who is that?!” I demand from the abyss.

I have been here before. But then I had teammates. Friends, even. Stepping from the darkness were our foes. Thaddeus Duke, Louis D’Ville, Chris Chaos, Andre Dixon. Haunting us. But this… something feels wrong about it. It feels smaller. Insular and more intimate, and I… I am alone.

“Show yourself!” I call.

Silence.

Darkness.

There should be light. Norm had installed lamps all over!

There is no light.

NO!

FUCK OFF!

I’m not doing that! I haven’t done that since… since I answered my fucking questions! I fixed myself, goddamn it! I fixed my broken, addled mind! I did it! Me! Me! Me!

"I’M NOT DOING THIS!” I scream. Aloud. To whomever will listen. If someone heard it, they don’t answer. But the trees rustle.

I should be able to see through them! Not just with the light, but because they had been culled and thinned. I knew what Norm was going for - never again! I say it too! NEVER A-FUCKING-GAIN!

There is no light.

I am the fucking light! The fire that snuffed the motherfucking flame!

"Show yourself,” I growl, lowering my head and clenching my fists. Though my heart still drums away inside my chest, I draw a deep and purposeful breath that brings control over the rest of my body. I feel my feet, firmly planted shoulder-width apart. I feel my blood trying to push its way through my gripped hands. I feel the split ends at the tips of my hair get pushed from side to side in a gentle swirling breeze.

If I am to be haunted by my foes again, so be it. Let them fucking come. Haven’t they heard by now? I fight. It’s what I do.

The rustling stops. Replacing it is a quiet, rhythmic whoosh. It picks up the pace, and with its rapid repetition it grows louder and louder until it sounds like it is almost upon me.

And then it is.

From the darkness, black wings beat their way towards me as a callous raven emerges. As it grows nearer, it begins to change. The blackness of night obscures the details, but the end result is unmistakable.






James Raven.

"You’re not my foe,” I tell the figure.

He says nothing. Motionless, he stares at me from behind eyes that look as dark as everything else here.

"You’re not,” I reassure him. And myself, I suppose. This is not a haunting by my adversaries. No. Back then it wasn’t even really Thad, Lou, and co last time. It was Kyril. Morbid Angel. I don’t know if this is the real James Raven. Something tells me it probably isn’t. What I do know is that this… this is something else entirely.

A rustle. Again. Jimmy-Jam stays still as I turn around in the new direction. There is no laboured suspense this time. Hand on my metaphorical holster, I, the gunslinger, am ready to fucking draw.

If push came to shove, draw I fucking would. But that’s a metaphor, not a real threat of death. That’s not me. That’s the beast that steps before me. A young, powerful lion, it’s dark mane freshly grown. Twigs crack underneath its paws as it slinks its way through the foliage and out into my little clearing.

Like the raven before it, it morphs.





Thaddeus Duke.

"You could be,” I say, as the frame of Thad takes a stand just feet away from me. While I hold no ill will towards James Raven, Thaddeus Duke is a different story. And here he is, within my sights. I could strike him down here and now. I don’t though. Yes, I’d call him foe, but that’s not what this is about. See, I’ve figured it out. I turn around once more, and wait for our third guest to arrive.

The wolf moves quieter than the lion did, sneaking up. I don’t even hear the rustle. Though the dark still encapsulates us all, there is a glimmer of moonlight in the wolf’s coat as it stalks its way towards me. It stops, closer than either the lion or raven had, and with the added light, I see the transformation in its entirety.





Lycana.

"Friend?” I chuckle. "Or foe?”

The nuance of our relationship has shifted dramatically since last we met. Since the very reason that she’s here at this nexus point first unfolded.

One by one, I slowly turn in a circle, locking eyes with each of them. None of them move, not even a blink.

They’re not here because they’re my enemies.

They’re here because they’re my failures.

"I get what’s going on here,” I say, with confidence. "There is nothing good to be found in this place. Well, allow me to send a message to ANYONE who wants to try and hold my past traumas over my head: There’s a reason you couldn’t find anything in the present to try and scare me with. Because there ain’t a fucking thing on this planet or any other that I will fear. There ain’t a thing in existence that will cause me to doubt myself. And there ain’t a fucking chance in hell that any of these three sons-of-bitches are going to be able to stop me now. I won’t make the same mistake twice.

I ball my fists, and my muscles begin to tense. The gun is out of the holster, and the safety has been taken off.

And if I can confront that which tries to haunt me, we'll then…


~~~~~



The crying of the girl pulls me from my trance.







2E: It Was Always Burning, Since The World Was Turning

"Take three steps and draw, Tav'.

We’ve dealt with why I still feel the need to fight. Happy to answer any questions you’ve got about that, but we’re still in the funhouse, remember? I've done my self-reflection. It’s time for you to do your own, and no, the R-E-S-P-E-C-T song and dance won't cut it. Take a good, hard look in this mirror I'm about to hold up for you. It's one that just shows the word ‘REALLY?’ any time you talk about why you are fighting.

Once again you tell the world how you don’t care about the trophies and adornments, Tav’. At least that little speech is consistent, though your constant attempts at becoming the tippy top of the Best Friends Division, whether with Marf or Betsy, kind of suggests something else is afoot, ya dig? Hey, quick side note here: have you ever thought that maybe you’re just better without people? I guess that’s neither here nor there for the time being. It is only you and me this time, and a whole Universe to play in! The thing is, you’ve given us that little spiel so many times now, yet here you are, openly acknowledging that the Universe now tickles your fancy. Seems like an adornment to me. That’s okay! In a way, I get it. This Universe? MY Universe? It’s an opportunity, isn’t it? A key almost. To what lies beyond. To what happens next.

Or maybe you could go ahead and undercut all that by saying that you just want it because other people do too.

Yikes.

That seems… underwhelming. Disappointing even, if I may take a moment to take a perch upon this here cloud of judgement. I hate to be the bearer of bad news (no I don’t), but that? That’s gotta be the worst fucking reason that anyone has given me so far for why they want to step in front of me. What, you think that having something that other people want garners you respect? If Peter Gilmour was still around, I’d send you his way to ask how that worked out for him. Jesus face-planting Christ, we could dial the clock back and find whatever Scandinavian fishing hole Fred L fell into, and ask him the same. If not them, then I’m sure Brad Pierce is still off rage-quitting another company, so maybe he could tell you what it’s like. And if none of that works, well then I’ll give you a little of my own insight: Being the Universal Champion doesn’t bring respect, Tav'. If anything, when the wrong person holds the Universe in the palm of their hands, it just ramps up all the doubt and accusations a thousand-fold. Those three dipshits are three of the most egregious examples.

So what makes you any different? What makes you the right person to take the fucking mantle? Is that list of almost-there's that you rattled off? To those on the list, particularly Betsy and NK, sorry if 'almost-there's' sounds like a slant but please note that I did not say 'never-will-be’s'. You uh… you know I’ve got a hell of a list of my own though, right? And let me tell you something, fam, if the scalps I’ve collected have told me anything it’s that I can put some of the scrappers with the biggest reputations that the XWF can muster under my boot and squish them, and the same shit you’re talking about will keep on coming my way too. They might not have said the word, but I’ve definitely heard that ‘fluke’ sentiment more than once. Because that doesn’t stop. Not until you’ve made them eat their fucking words up close and in person. One. By. One. You need to know that, Tav’. You need to understand that whatever you think you’re going to find with the Universe in your hands, it ain’t gonna be there. You’re talking about these criticisms like you’re actually seeking them out, otherwise the confidence that you supposedly carry within you (except when you admit you don’t, of course) would be enough. But you want to prove them wrong. You’re relying on what others are saying to light the fire under your ass, and this… this is where we differ.

I light my own fucking fuse.

Oh, I know you think you do too, but are you actually listening to yourself? You’re craving what you think the rest of the world will give you if you can take the Universe for yourself.

I’m craving what I’m going to take from it.

You think you’re the fire? Girl, you’re a fire. And your flames have already lapped at my body. Fucking literally! In case you hadn’t noticed though, I’m still fucking standing. The fire that snuffs the flames. If you’ve been tuning in enough to pick up on ‘ever forward’, then you’ve definitely heard that line before too. Since I’m spelling out the metaphors today, I figure I may as well just knock another one of ‘em off while I’m at it. That line means that everyone thinks they’re bringing the fire against me. Or the water. Or they get confused and they say both. It doesn’t matter.

They all run out of fuel.

Their source of ignition shorts.

And their fire fucking dies before my own.

I will admit that the line about setting the Universe ablaze was a cute quote. Oh, if only that were true. Maybe I was being a bit too optimistic thinking that you’ve been paying as close attention as you’re going to need to have been, because you’re missing what should be right under your nose if you were.

Think about it. I told you that you made me better, didn’t I?

Girl…

Ever since that night on The Moon - conspiracy theories be damned! - I’ve been walking through flames on the fucking reg’!

Like it’s the very air you breathe.

It is the air I breathe, Tav’. The fire, that is. I consume it. I eat it.

Don’t you see? I ain’t eating the world this time. I ain’t eating Lycana either. I’m eating the whole god damn Universe - flames and all!

Ever forward, indeed.

Until the fucking end.”







2F: The Next Step

As quick as I could, I scooped the girl up into my arms. Though the crying abated fairly rapidly, that pained look lingered on her face. I followed her worried gaze. It led my sight through the patch of trees behind me, not thickened and dark, but thinned and clear. As it was supposed to be. As it was designed to be.

I was as prepared as I could be to support her through this. I had stopped to sit (and reflect) in a space that I had hoped would at least elicit memories and recollections that tended more towards the positive for her. This was the exact site that her parents had set up camp just prior to their being taken from her. I’d like to say that I’ve been able to add some of my own, but the truth is, here, the girl had the last happy memories of the life that she once knew (as much as a girl her age could, anyway). It was before everything changed. I don’t know… maybe the reason she just cried was because being here actually just reminded her of her loss, through sensations and perceptions that she couldn’t yet put words to.

Or maybe it’s just that she now had a much stronger view of the place where her parents left this world.

Through the treeline.

She clutched tight to my chest as I stood up. I shook dirt and loose strands of straw-like grass from my jeans. I wasn’t proud of what I needed to do next, but that didn’t take away from the fact that I still had to do it.

We cut a path straight through the trees. Last time, I wasn’t able to do this. At least not with any level of ease, and especially not with a child trembling in my arms.

I stepped over one final overgrown root, and out into another clearing. The layout of the tents that night was still clear in my mind. Andy’s, NK’s, mine, Corey’s. They were scattered like a crucifix around a firepit, long-since extinguished by now, in the middle. Corey’s was further back than the others and it was behind his tent that it happened. Wearing the face of Louis D’Ville, Morbid Angel slit the throat of the girl’s birth parents.

And now I’ve brought her back here.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps and we’re there.

"This is the spot,” I say to nobody.

Nobody replies with a flash of white light. The girl wriggles in my hand, fighting her way loose.

"Be careful!” I meekly exclaim as she leaps from my hand. She hits the ground with a perfect landing and is immediately up and moving. I worry that she’s about to run off, but her entire body seems calm now. Purposeful.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps and she’s there.

In the midst of the white glow. It consumes everything save for her and I. The girl turns to me, with an expression beyond her years.

I had brought her here. I had put her through this.

And now, through the voice of an adult woman, she tells me what I need to do.

“Find Morbid Angel.”

Do you have a light?

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