25. musician. zombie.
so i try to put a little piece of myself in
keep the pretty people listenin'
keep in mind all the negatives and positives
charges floatin' round the audience
[pm] Oops I’m not cool then :/ I like to listen to it more because it reminds me of her though. Exactly! Emilio just happens to do a lot of funny things that I can’t let slide.
Oh, already working on it! I already had Noodle do the jiggle jiggle dance, but we gotta do it now. I’m still convinced he only pretends to not like it. It’s fine, I’ll just keep playing Phoebe Bridgers until I catch him singing so he has to admit he likes it.
TIMING: current.
LOCATION: various.
SUMMARY: silas finally meets the demon that’s been tormenting emilio.
CONTENT WARNINGS: brief head trauma, suicidal ideation, mentions of sibling death.
—
The secret was to keep himself just fed enough to stave off losing his mind completely, but hungry enough to wake up a tiny bit of that enhanced strength that bloomed in the face of starvation. With that on his side, Silas had a much easier time winning the fights, when everything about his appearance told the gamblers the opposite story. He didn’t fight often enough to become recognizable to anyone besides the people who came here every night, which was more than fine with the bookies. He was easy money for them, so long as he kept a low profile and kept winning. He was the favorite underdog, only a handful of people knew to bet on him to win, and Emilio was one of those people.
Reeling back from a punch that’d landed square on his jaw, Silas blinked away the stars and felt his stomach churn. The hunger in his belly demanded that he bite down on the man’s throat and rip it out, but he wasn’t so far gone, yet. With a low growl and a surge of energy, the zombie threw himself at his opponent and unleashed a flurry of bareknuckle blows to his head and gut. They hit with immense force, force that shouldn’t have been possible for someone of his svelte stature, yet the bigger man finally went down. The crowd that surrounded the pen was a mix of cheers and angry taunts from those that’d just lost their money, but Silas smiled all the same, stepping away from his fallen opponent and huffing out a sharp breath. Violence had never been his calling, but there was something cathartic about it, at least when it was in a more controlled environment like this one. His life was never on the line, which made it way less scary. Plus, there was probably some part of him that was trying to impress Emilio—trying to show him that Silas could defend himself, so he might be allowed to return home sooner rather than later.
A commotion started near the back of the building, some raised voices sounding out over the noise of the crowd.
“Fire! There’s a fire!” someone shouted.
Panic swept over the spectators like a shockwave, starting from the back until it crushed bodies against the pen’s barriers. The triumphant grin had evaporated from Silas’ face like a splash of water in the face of the sun, burning as it went—scorching as the fear set in.
“Emilio!” He’d not seen him since the beginning of the fight, of course, but he’d been at the guardrail. Silas couldn’t find him now, not in the mad scramble of terror as the heat of the blaze began to warm the building to uncomfortable temperatures. “Emilio!” His screams were drowned out by the many voices that surrounded him, the shrieks of agony as people became trapped against the railing and sucked below the stampede. Like swimmers caught in a rip current, the onlookers vanished beneath a sea of crushing weight. The gate into the ring was in the direction of the fire, and Silas could already see the flames licking at the metal.
Bile rose in his throat as he scaled the fencing as quickly as he could, his eyes still scanning the crowd for his friend. “Emilio!” he cried a third and final time, hoisting himself over the top. The flames crept closer, glowing bright in the dim lighting of the illegal fighting ring, casting terrifying shadows on the walls and ceiling. Searching for somewhere to jump down, the zombie faltered. Fuck, there were bodies on the ground just below him. Dead, alive, it didn’t matter—he couldn’t just drop down onto them. His gaze snapped upward again as he resumed his search for the hunter, and for the briefest of moments, relief hit him like a freight train. There he was, across the room, backed against a wall. Their eyes met and Silas gave a nod before resuming his slow descent down the other side of the fence, shaking from the nerves.
“Hey!” someone called to him. He looked down between his arm and his side to see a large man standing below, carefully planted between two bodies, arms outstretched. “Come on, kid, jump! I’ll catch you—we gotta get out of here!” For a moment he paused, not wanting to hurt the guy, but… he looked like he could handle it, and the fire was about to overtake both of them. Swallowing his fear, Silas pushed off of the fence and let go, tumbling down into the stranger’s grip. They sank low but the man didn’t lose his footing, hoisting Silas up again and over his shoulder. It surprised the zombie, who was expecting to be set down.
“Hey, wait!” he protested, breath hitching in his throat as he looked wildly for Emilio again. The stranger was moving away from the pen and toward an exit, and as they quickly stepped through the threshold, Silas finally spotted his friend a final time. He was coming this way, but he looked confused, like he hadn’t seen where Silas had gone. “Wait, man, my friend, I gotta—” Emilio disappeared from sight as they moved away from the building and across a dirt lot. The stranger slipped Silas off of his shoulder, staring down at him with a maliciousness that didn’t quite match the expression you’d expect of someone that had just saved a life. Dread gripped Silas, animalistic and instinctual, and he tried to back away. He met something hard after a single step and a shout died in his throat as the man reached for it and clamped a hand down around it. A bag was pulled down over his head, the hand releasing its pressure on his neck only to secure the hood tightly around it instead. Silas screamed, but no one heard and no one cared, not in all the chaos that surrounded them. He nearly tripped over his own feet as he was roughly shoved to the side then manhandled into the truck he’d been backed up against, kicking the moment his feet left the ground. “No! No, lemme go!” the zombie howled, thrashing wildly to try and get away. A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair through the bag and slammed his head into the console, silencing him.
As the last of the survivors trickled out of the blazing inferno, a nondescript truck peeled away from the scene, an empty jerry can slipping from its bed as it sped off.
—
“I saw you leaving Emilio’s place. You know him?” The voice stirred Silas from his daze, eyes blinking to try and adjust to the darkness—oh. No. There was still a sack over his head.
“What?” he asked, moving to try and get it off, only to realize that he was, for the second time in his life, a hostage with hands bound. And this time he didn’t have the good fortune of his captor being one of his friends.
“Emilio Cortez. Do you know him? I saw you leaving his apartment.” Fuck. Was this… no. Was this Levi? Silas had no idea if answering yes or no to the question was worse, and he was almost positive that this guy already knew the answer, but the urge to spare his friend whatever emotional fallout would come from this overpowered his common sense.
“N-no,” he stammered, “I don’t know him. You got the wrong guy. I was only at his place to hire him, we ain’t—we ain’t close.”
“Ah, well that’s good then. I’d hate for your last couple hours to be spent worrying about him, since I’m gonna go kill him next.”
The world tilted around him and he gasped out a strangled ‘what?’ before leaning too far forward and nearly spilling out of the seat. “You—no, wait, don’t—” This was a lot to digest. His last couple hours. The knowledge of his impending doom was more alarming than it had any right to be, all things considered. But over the last few weeks, he felt like he’d finally started to climb out of the hole he’d made for himself, only to be met with this at the end of the road. Of course.
Kill him next. “I—I know him. I know him, okay? Fuck, just… don’t… don’t do that. Please. Emilio ain’t done nothin’ to you, man.” A sharp laugh met his ears, so sudden and violent that it made him wince away from the source, huddling himself against the car door.
“Nothing? Kid, that idiot has made my life way more difficult than it needs to be. Even if it’s not death, because frankly that’d be a relief for him… I’m gonna make him pay for all the shit he’s given me. Calm down, you’ll live.” An awkward moment of silence slithered through the truck’s cabin, mitigated only by the hum of tires on the pavement below. Then, another laugh. “Hah! Just kidding, you won’t.”
—
He wasn’t the first victim of Levi’s, that much was clear. The way the demon calmly wrestled him down the cliffside to a hidden cavern with shockingly sure footing told Silas he’d made this trip several times already. The sack had been removed at this point, allowing him a better look at his kidnapper’s face. He realized with a jolt of sickness that he’d seen that face before. That day that Emilio’s door was kicked in, the day that his friend became a puppet for this, this thing… he’d seen them outside. Levi and the fae. Fuck, he’d walked right past them! He never should have begged Emilio to let him out of the house on his own. He should have fucking stayed, or… or at least just have taken the hunter with him.
Fear overwhelmed him, ripping itself from his lungs in a cry as he tried to pull himself away from the demon. It didn’t seem to care, ignoring him while keeping a firm grip on his arms and steering him in the direction of the cave mouth. Every attempt to wrench himself free was met with stoic disinterest, the only reaction being to shake him around a little harder to get him to stop fighting. The darkness swallowed them, its totality lingering for a few steps until the soft, flickering glow of candles illuminated the space.
There were bodies laying on the ground, contained within some sort of giant, intricate symbol that was scratched into the rock. A lot of bodies, each with their throat cut, soaking in a sticky pool of their own blood. Silas gave a desperate moan, falling to his knees as he was roughly shoved into the circle. He felt the demon press up behind him, one hand tucking itself beneath his jaw to lift his chin, the other wielding a knife—one that Silas recognized. It’d been held to his throat before... by Emilio, on the first night they’d met. When the slayer tracked him home from that bar and pinned him to the wall in an alley, threatening to cut his head off. It shouldn’t have been a fond memory, but after everything the pair had been through, he clung to it like one would cling to the memory of meeting their best friend. Because that’s what Emilio was, whether he wanted it or not. “Please,” Silas begged, “Don’t do this. Don’t do this to him, it’ll break him, please—” The knife’s edge pressed to his skin, though he didn’t feel a thing as it bit into his neck.
“Don’t you worry about ol’ Cortez, I’ll take good care of him,” the demon growled, grinning when Silas’ eyes slid upward to meet its gaze as it tilted his head farther back. The reality of the situation was slowly sinking in, and all Silas could think about was the ones he’d leave behind. Milo, who he’d just started fixing things with. Ari and Cass, both unexpected but extremely welcome rays of light in his life. The demon seemed to read his mind, sneering as it spoke again. “You have a lot of the same friends as him, don’t you? Think he’d mourn that squirrely looking kid with the glasses that visited you the other day?” Silas’ heart leaped into his throat and he thrashed to get away from Levi, horror blanketing his expression.
“No!” he wailed, held fast in place by the creature’s grip. “Don’t you fuckin’ touch him! Leave him outta this!”
“Ooh, struck a nerve, have we? What about that short girl, what’s her name… Ari? Think Emilio would miss her?” The panic was overwhelming, clawing at him like pale hands rising from the depths of an unfathomably deep ocean, ready to drag him down.
“No no no, please—” The zombie choked back a sob, realizing that the familiar burn of eyes that ached for relief that’d been present since he’d regained consciousness in the car was suddenly gone. His vision blurred as tears gathered, manifested by the most powerful emotion he’d experienced since dying. It was never the case that he couldn’t cry, as he had thought, but rather he never allowed himself to in some misguided attempt to guard his heart. “Why—why’re you doin’ this? Why can’t you just leave all of us alone?” The tears spilled over, tracking down his cheeks as he wept, beside himself with grief. The demon just smiled at him, tightening its grip on his jaw as it leaned a little lower.
“Because it pisses me off when people don’t treat me the way they should.”
Silas didn’t even realize there was dark, thick blood staining his front in the wake of the knife. How did it come to this? He’d tried to do all he could to stop something exactly like this from happening, and yet here it was, happening anyway. Not at the hands of his old cult members, but instead some fucking stranger he’d never had the displeasure of even meeting before now. His friends were going to be slaughtered, all except maybe Emilio—and only because it would be worse for him to live.
“Silas!” The familiar voice rattled inside his head and drew his attention away from the demon standing over him, dragging his gaze back down until it came upon the ghostly visage of his brother.
“... why aren’t you dying?” questioned Levi, bending over to inspect the slit he’d made, only to see that it had already healed. Silas didn’t respond to either of them, simply staring up at the poltergeist, his wide, watery eyes full of terror.
“Silas, it’s okay! It’s okay. This is what we wanted, remember? This is what you promised me. It’s gonna be okay, you can trust me. Calm down. Calm down.”
“What the—what the fuck are you, kid?”
“... dead,” Silas muttered. It was as literal as it was figurative. “Already dead.” Levi reached for his face with newfound frustration, grabbing him by the chin and yanking his mouth open for a quick glance at his teeth.
“Vampire?”
“No.” There was only one other option and the demon seemed to realize it, moving from where he was hunched over his prey to get something. Silas’ gaze never wavered from his brother, who seemed a more inviting presence now than he ever had before. Their eyes were locked, and the zombie could feel the chill of the poltergeist’s hands as they rested on his shoulders. He’d been gone for so long, it felt like a shock to just see him again, but... but of course he’d come in his sibling’s time of need. That was their way.
“C’mon, Silas. Just let go. Come t’me.”
“But… but my friends—”
“Y’can’t help ‘em now. They ain’t your responsibility. This is happenin’, brother. This is happenin’. You gotta face that.” He was right. There was no way out of this, not this time. No one to swoop in and save him. Holding on to hope was futile.
Something splashed onto his head, slow at first but quickly picking up into a steady flow. The faint smell of gasoline met his deadened senses and he sighed. Sylvain searched his face for a moment before speaking again, and instead of finding anger in those pale eyes, Silas could see only sadness. “Take off the rings, brother. Lemme in. You don’t gotta be here for this.”
There was no good reason to protest. It was a final act of kindness from the one person he should have stayed true to from the beginning—if he had, maybe none of this would have happened. He never would have met Milo, or Emilio or Ari, and their lives would have been better for it. He should have died a long time ago. He’d almost forgotten that in the last month or so, but it was as clear to him now as it had been in New Orleans. He should’ve died.
I don’t want to be afraid.
Silas twisted off the only two rings he’d kept on during his night out with Emilio—the ones made of iron, meant to stop his brother from possessing him again. The ones he’d sworn to the hunter he’d keep wearing so Sylvain couldn’t undo all his progress. They clinked to the stone floor behind him as gasoline dripped down his face, mixing with his tears.
The ghost moved closer, sinking into his chest. For a moment, it was quiet. The scuff of a match being struck interrupted that, and Silas winced.
I’m tired of being a coward.
The flames burned tall and hot as they devoured the walking corpse, creating a light so bright that it spilled from the cave and could be faintly seen from the rocky coastline above.
This is what I wanted, he tried to remind himself as he was engulfed. This is what I wanted. He could feel the cold presence of his brother stretching to fill him up from the inside out, and his world went dark.
For the first time since Sylvain had started possessing him, he felt relieved that he wouldn’t be coming back.
Your ‘supportive’ sounds an awful lot like your ‘annoying.’ You should probably work on that.
Yeah. Funny. […] I didn’t kidnap you. That’s a dramatic way of putting it. I […] invited you over unwillingly. [user takes a moment and reads the message a time or two, more than a little touched.] You too, kid. I’m lucky to have you around.
[…]
When aren’t you?
[ pm ] I’ll work on it, Mr. Sensitive. <- THAT, for example, was definitely me bein’ annoyin’.
Invited me unwillingly, that’s a good one. [...] 💞 Okay, enough sap, let’s get rollin’.
Uh huh. […] You said you weren’t going to be annoying. This is annoying.
[…]
No, it’s okay. […] You’re around because I like having you around. You help me. Pretty sure I’d have lost my head a while ago if you weren’t hanging around. That’s why I’m trying to make sure you’re safe.
[…]
Yeah. Ready when you are.
[ pm ] [ user is about to get on Emilio’s case about it but then remembers the predicament he is currently in and changes his mind ] Yeah, okay, fair.
I’m not! I’m bein’ supportive! You really gotta learn how to tell the difference, mon frère.
Funny how these things happen, huh? [...] Well I’ve enjoyed hangin’ around, so thanks for kidnappin’ me. And I look forward to continuin’ the tradition once all this levels out. You been a good friend to me. A good brother. Hope you know that.
[pm] Uh huh. I think it’s just a habit you don’t want to break. […] Yeah, that’s fine. It’ll be good for you to have him there. At the exorcism. He’ll be better at the support thing than I am. Just don’t go being nauseating in the living room.
No. You’ll use it against me.
[…]
Only when it’s justified. […] Keeping me company. Making sure I don’t lose my damn mind. Filling my apartment with bees, apparently.
[ pm ] Maybe so.... :) [...] You know we’re gonna, Vanilla Bean. We can’t help it.
I will not! Look, as my first step toward bein’ less annoyin’, I will not use this very super secret info against you. Now tell me who.
[...]
I didn’t say it wasn’t! I just said you was salty. [...] Is that all?
[pm] Christ. You can stay drinking gasoline, then.
I’m not impossible to impress. People impress me. Maybe you’re just not as impressive as you think you are.
[…]
I’m only pissy when people piss me off. […] Being cute doesn’t help pay the rent.
[ pm ] I can’t help it, bein’ annoyin’ is a hard habit to break. [...] Hey by the way, Milo might be joinin’ us for the tail end of tonight. He offered to be there tomorrow when we [...] do the exorcism. So he’ll have to stay the night.
Name one person that’s impressed you in the last year.
[...]
So you admit it, you are pissy. [...] Then what the fuck am I doing here?
[pm] I think you can do it if you really put your mind to it.
Hey, if you can manage it, you’ll kill it at your next open mic.
[…]
[user is immediately offended even though silas is undeniably correct.] I am not pissy. […] I don’t think you can call it a hotel. Hotels charge money. None of the bees are paying you anything.
[ pm ] Sounds like hard work. I dunno about hard work...
I already kill it at my open mics, you’re just impossible to impress. :/
[...]
You’re a little bit pissy. [...] Their payment is how fuckin’ cute they are, Bean.
Saltiest? […] Silas, tell me you don’t have a bed for the bee.
[ pm ] That’s hard. ):
Feel like that’s a high bar, but I’ll do my best.
[...]
Uhh.. fuck, how the fuck do I explain that. Pissy, basically. [...] I got a whole damn hotel for her and her friends!!! that’s the weird lookin’ birdhouse thing. Sometimes they sleep there if they don’t think they’ll make it back to the hive in time before sundown, or if it gets too windy to fly.
[pm] You’re probably right there. That makes sense, I probably would have been more on that side if Celeste was on the shy side. She was pretty cool minus her constant listening to ABBA. When she worked at Al’s, I think I made fun of the uniform every time I saw her in it.
So many. The $$ will be rolling in.
[ pm ] Oh no, listening to ABBA is immediately like net ten uncool points, haha. But that’s fair—when they deserve it, they deserve it!
That reminds me, we’re gonna have to come up with a new duo routine for the new recordin’ space! I’m sure Emilio is glad he won’t have to deal with that for a while, lol.
[pm] Yeah, but you like whiskey better than gasoline. I think.
Some things go without saying, kid.
[…]
There are stupider states of existence. You could be a demon stuffed into a human corpse. That’d be depressing. […] Stop saying un-life. And stop […] making the bee sound like it knows things.
[ pm ] Maybe so...
Sure sure sure. Come on down, I’m tunin’ the old girl up.
[...]
It’s deserved in this case, but man you gotta be the saltiest fella I know. [...] No. And also know. Jeremy sees all. She’s a wise bee. I am making you hold her before she goes to bed.
[pm] I can for sure do that. You’re nicer than I am. Embarrassing Emilio is one of my favorite hobbies. I don’t have an actual sibling anymore, but the chaotic little sister energy is still in full force.
I think you meant to say genius.
[ pm ] I think you got enough of that energy for the both of us, lmao. Sylv was a real bookish nerd when he was alive, so I was always extra nice to him to make up for the jerks at school. I guess it can be hard to get away from that sometimes.
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