The laughter frayed every nerve in her body, she felt on edge, trapped and helpless. She felt like she was part of some game that it was playing, like she was the mouse when she should have been the cat. Instead it was grinning like the Cheshire Cat and she was Alice, fallen into a Wonderland too dark for her mind to even begin to comprehend.
Doors could be opened. She felt more like she was being judged than anything else. That it was referring to the pack as fools. She really didn’t like that. But had they really broken something else while trying to fix everything? That didn’t seem like a leap. They were just confused teenagers, they had no idea how to handle most of the things that were thrown at them, so if they had fucked up, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
It moved around her, hands resting on her shoulders, knife touching her, but not in any threatening way, just sitting easily in their hand, a reminder that it wasn’t in hers. She couldn’t fight smoke. No-one could fight smoke. Her eyes flickered to the dark and creaking door in front of them as it began to shake violently. She jumped as it slammed open, unable to help it as fog and smoke descended around them, capturing everything in darkness.
She wanted to scream. She didn’t. The fog lifted and Allison was looking at the nematon, set out in front of her, covered in little symbols. Her necklace. The Hale Triskele. Concentric circles for Scott’s pack and then it was all hidden from view again, smoke billowing. The thing was gone from her back and was sitting in the middle of the stump, holding her necklace up. She watched it swing slightly. It wasn’t really her necklace, she told herself, that one was sitting in police evidence because they’d planted it on Kate.
It didn’t feel like it mattered. It was still hers.
They were talking again and she listened, carefully, because this was a game and it was having fun with her and every word would mean something, she was sure of it. It held the necklace out to her.
Blood for blood. Her blood for their protection. Her sacrifice to keep them safe. Was it that simple? It couldn’t be that simple. She wanted it to be.
Nous protegons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteges eux meme.
“My blood to save my friends? My life for theirs?” she asked, meeting its gaze. Letting out a shaky breath, she reached for the necklace.
“No͠u͡s ̵pr͜o̵t̶egons ͟ce҉u͢x̡ ̡q̴u͜i n͜e ͠ṕeu͞v͡ent ̷p͏as se̸ ͜protege̡s ͝eu̴x meme.͏ That’s right, that’s right. Prot̶ec̀t them.”
It giggled amidst the shadows then, the necklace now spinning in its claw-like fingers. Stolen away from Kate’s body, from the grave it lay in it twinkling in the evening sky. The charm made its way to Allison’s hand, and the being turned to the stump. The smoke slowly cleared, swirling away from them as it brought a finger to the old and blackened bark and wood, and suddenly the world around them rippled.
It was a thousand voices screaming at once, it was static, it was everything and nothing at once and the being in front of her was in the epicenter. Its form jumped with the deafening noise, shifting rapidly in size and shape, going from a grime covered silhouette, a smokey mass, to what looked like a man if whatever put it together didn’t know what a man looked like.
Arms that were too long hanging from mismatched shoulders, fingers that ended in claws. Eyes that shone brighter than stars. The figure turned back to her, slowly and with a shuddering movement. The eyes locking gaze with hers.
She’d hear it then, a voice echoing through the clearing. A man’s voice screaming from a bottomless pit. Not like the distorted being before her, but somewhat clearer in its faintness than anything she’d heard this entire encounter.
“ᴬᶫᶫᶦˢᵒᶰ, ˢᵗᵒᵖ﹗ᴸᶦˢᵗᵉᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ﹗ ᴵᵗˢ ᶫʸi⁻”
It faded abruptly, the ripples passing back through them, shaking the wooden frames in the ruins, the grass beneath them. With a sickening noise, the limbs resorted themselves into the earlier figure, facing away from Allison. Its head jerked, and it suddenly swiveled toward her.
“ Nous protegons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteges eux meme. Nous protegons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteges eux meme. No͠u͡s ̵pr͜o̵t̶egons ͟ce҉u͢x̡ ̡q̴u͜i n͜e ͠ṕeu͞v͡ent ̷p͏as se̸ ͜protege̡s ͝eu̴x meme.͏”
It was advancing now, hands held out, knife brandished in a ritualistic grip, one of the gnarled grips latching onto her wrist.
“ Ag͜rȩe, Ag͜rȩe to the terms, save them. Do it, do it, d̵o̧ ͞it." It shuddered, raising the knife slightly, and stared at her.
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