Mythos 003: Questions

Iwaku was trembling, crumbling, plunging forward so fast and yet turning so still. I could taste the mortality in the air; it hung like a miasma over the city, fogging the panes of shattered windows and obscuring the looming shapes in the sky above me. Fragments of stone crunched beneath the heels of my boots as I picked my way through the streets to the news station. A flickering neon sign told me that I hadn’t gone astray. “Cbox News,” it read, the name on every scrolling bottom line in the local broadcasts which I’d seen since my arrival in the city… since I’d started tracking the activities of Asmodeus and those who followed him. I still held a few questions that needed answers, and perhaps… just perhaps… I could find them here.

“An angel.” A reverent gasp pierced my thoughts, raspy and brittle. I recoiled, wincing, as I felt grubby hands catch at my coat. “I knew you’d come. The prophecies written in ancient tongues foretold it. I’m a true believer, you see, so I know. I know. They tried to kill me so I couldn’t say it but now they’ll see!”

My eyes turned with pity to the wretch who was stumbling from the alleyway with a crazed light in his eye, smoke spilling from his lips with every word. “Please, my angel, save me from the sinners who would silence my voice!”

This poor lost man. So young. Gifted enough to see my true nature, but driven too mad from his own wishes and fantasies to understand what I represented. He clung, his spindly fingers gripping my arm like a lifeline, his words coming ever more fervently. Could he not see that he was causing himself to burn up from within?

“I do my part in this world, I do, I am true to the faith- the dragons, they told me, they told me I could be their king- Why did no one understand? Don’t they know what I’ve been through? Don’t you know? Tell them, tell them-”

“Shh,” I murmured soothingly, helping him until he knelt in the filthy gutter, my gloved fingers pressing to his cheek. “You’re going to be alright. Your suffering is almost over.”

He was already beginning to stiffen, his skin and clothing turning ashen. The smoke continued to trickle from his mouth like a fountain as I watched him petrify before me, unable to do more than bear witness to his brief footnote in this chapter. My touch did not withdraw until I felt his face harden; then, slowly, I dusted off my hands.

An angel had been with him in his final moments, performing her duty. Perhaps that had given him some small comfort.

My attention was drawn to the news station as I turned away from the lifeless statue that still spewed a plume of smoke. There was a light coming from inside the building, and I could see someone shuffling around through the glass. The door, however, was locked fast as I tried entry.

I kicked it in.

The news station employee startled like a frightened animal, dropping the paperwork he was carrying; it spilled onto the floor like cast-off bits of bandage, white and soaked in ink like blood. Words jumped out at me from the fallen pages.

Medusa Terrorists

Jack Shade
​

I stepped over the scattered sheaves of paper, taking a firm hold of their newly-relieved carrier. An anchor, according to his personnel badge, by the name of Kaze. I could see in his eyes that he’d been watching me as I eased the passing of the street preacher; there was a dull horror reflected in his features, in the way he took note of my smallest movement. I was sorry for it, but perhaps that fear would render him more forthcoming. As I guided him calmly to the nearest lounge chair, sitting him down and taking the one opposite, I plucked up a single page from the floor and held it aloft in the soft glow of the cheap fluorescent lighting.

As of now, the whereabouts of Asmodeus and his fellow terrorists are…
​

“I’d like to have a chat with you,” I began.

Names rose to the forefront of my mind as I considered my first inquiry. Kitti, Aimi, Piroko, Archy, Tegan… Yes. That was a good place to start.

I had my orders. Now, I needed only one thing.