Witch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]

Chapter Three: The Black Cat

The Black Cat Club was a high-class joint — a real ritzy place for ritzy people. It wasn't a place I usually frequented, being far too upper-class and clean for my liking. I stuck to the seedier places the sleepless city offered; dive bars and the like; places with cheap booze and even cheaper women. No, this place was a lure for those with far too much money burning a hole in their pockets or fame burning a hole in their lives. Often both.

And if you ever had the pleasure of stepping into its polished hall, you'd likely end up rubbing elbows with the rich and powerful. You might even spot a mayor or a politician or two making hushed deals with a mob boss. You'd witness the haves taking even more from the have-nots.

Not that you'd find the current mayor in a place like this. Word was that he hated clubs. That he hated jazz, booze, and all things fun that made living in this city bearable. He was a man who'd rather have kept prohibition in place, even if it poured money into the pockets of the criminals.

Last I'd heard, he's vowed to clean up the city and eradicate crime.

Good luck to him. He'd have a greater chance of walking on the moon than freeing Chicago of crime. Rot and decay had seeped so deep into the bones of the city not even god could revive it. It'd take a cleansing fire to remove the stink.

But enough musing to myself; I had a job to do.

I killed my car's engine as I parked alongside the club in a free space. Stepping out into the rain, I let the door close behind me and glanced towards the club's entrance.

Neon lights blazed upon its facade, cutting through the downpour to flicker and gleam across every wetted surface. Puddles and raindrops danced with bright light. Cars rippled with color as they drove by down the downtown strip. Adorning the club's exterior walls were a myriad of tall posters, each depicting the various talents who played upon the club's stage within.

Tonight's show was a colored band called the Young Bucks and a Creole singer called "La Lapine."

The Dwarf eyed the posters with some curiosity as we approached the open doors, soft jazz alighting upon our ears from within as we did.

A bouncer clad in black guarded the door, eyeing our approach. His eyes darted between the two of us, lingering on the space my weapon occupied beneath my coat. When we drew near the club's entrance, he stepped into our way, barring us from continuing. "Sorry, this is an exclusive club. Members only. I suggest you try somewhere else tonight," he rumbled.

I eyed him, chewing on the end of my cigarette. Smoke curled up from my lips as I exhaled. It caught on the lip of my rain-befallen hat before spilling off to vanish into the night air. Rain pattered down on me as I took one last draw on my diminished cigarette. I pulled the stub from my lips and flicked it to the ground to be stamped out underfoot.

The bouncer fidgeted slightly under the glare of my steely eyes.

"Don't worry, I've got my membership badge right here."

The bouncer tensed as I reached into my inner pocket for my PI Licence. His hand drifted behind to the small of his back, likely where he kept a firearm of some sort.

I smiled. "Detective Devil of the Devil's Eye Detective Agency." My badge and ID gleamed in the neon lights. "And associate. We're here on official business. Step aside."

"I can't just do that," the bouncer rumbled, not stepping aside as I'd politely asked. "This is an exclusive club catering to powerful and private members. We can't just let every Dick in to question folks. They come here to escape that sort of thing. You'll upset their night."

"I'll do more than upset them if you don't let me in. You see this?" I held my badge up higher. "It's a 'go-anywhere-and-ask-anything' pass. If I wanted to, I could call the CPD and have the red and blues shut this place down and take all your members in for official questioning. I'm sure the tabloids would just love to know who is in tonight and plaster their handcuffed photos across tomorrow's front page. I'm sure your boss will be thrilled. Or you could let us in to ask our questions discreetly. "

The bouncer's face pinched up like he'd bitten into something sour. He glowered down at me.

I had him.

He just needed a little push.

"SO," I said. "What's it going to be? I'm sure a big guy like you can find other work."

"Fine!" he growled. "You can enter, but don't make a scene. And leave your gun at the coat check."

I snorted. "My gun goes where I go. I got a pass for it, remember?" I said, tapping my badge once more before sliding it back into my inner pocket.

Behind me, the Dwarf snorted in amusement. The bouncer didn't like that, but there was little he could do other than step aside and let us enter.

Stepping out of the rain, we entered the club's foyer. The inner doors lay shut before us while the aforementioned coat check sat to our right. A nervous-looking attendant stood behind the desk there. In a shuffle of discarded clothing, we handed over our slightly damp coats and hats to the man. He paled further as he saw my gun, but said nothing.

I tucked my ID into my vest alongside the ticket stub he handed me before turning to enter the club proper. The inner doors opened easily and a wash of sights and smells crashed down upon us.

The air inside was smokey, filling the high-vaulted ceilings with a lazy haze that smelt of cigarettes and expensive alcohol. Hot lights shone down through the drifting miasma from crystal chandeliers high above, casting an atmosphere of diffuse mystique upon the patrons seated below. A myriad of round tables burdened with half-filled glasses and ashtrays decorated the hall atop a black-and-white marble floor. Half-drunk patrons filled every seat elbow to elbow as they faced a raised stage framed in carmine where the colored band played their smooth jazz.

A long bar framed the right-hand side of the hall. There, a pair of bartenders poured drink after expensive drink for the lonely men occupying it. They moved with well-honed grace as they plied their charges with mid-ranged liquor to loosen their wallets for the more expensive top-shelf tastes.

Looking around, the only women I could see in the club were those on staff; girls dressed in tight dresses and teasing smiled as they darted between the cramped tables and dodged wandering hands as they offered more booze and fresh cigarettes to those seated. Their smiles loosen just as many wallets as the booze did.

They fit the mold of our dead girl to a T; young, white, and pretty.

Finding a spot at the bar, I rapped on it to get the attention of the bartender closest to me. He arrived swiftly. His eyes flickered to my holstered gun before he trained them professionally on mine, ready to take our orders. Beside me, the Dwarf hoisted himself onto a free stool, glaring around at anyone to dare them to comment. Thankfully, no one did.

"Bourdon on the rocks for myself and a whiskey neat for my friend."

As the bartender fetched the asked for bottles from the shelf behind him and poured our drinks, I laid my ID on the bar to catch his eye. The chime of ice clinking sounded as he placed my drink before me. He met my eyes.

"What else can I do for you, Detective?"

"Answers," I said, taking a sip of my drink. It was good. "My associate and I are looking into a murder that took place not too far from here. We found one of your club's matchbooks at the scene of the crime."

"We give those out to all our clients. They're on all the tables. Anyone could have taken one."

"True, but it still would've come from here. Perhaps the victim even worked here? Tell me, have any of your girls missed their shifts today or yesterday? Our victim was in her late teens to early twenties, Caucasian. She had long blond hair and blue eyes."

The bartender nodded hesitantly. "Yes, two of our girls didn't turn up tonight. Jenny and Daisy. We had to scramble a bit to call in other girls to cover their shifts. Usually, the girls are pretty good about calling in if they are sick or just can't make it. I thought it was odd, but I didn't think…oh god."

"Two girls? One of them was a blonde?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Jenny."

"Does this Jenny have a last name?" I asked as I took out my notebook and pen.

"Watson. Jenny Watson."

"Do you know her address? Does she have any friends or family I can contact?"

"Umm, I'd have to check." By now, the bartender looked shaken and pale. "I don't know if they had anyone. I think the pair might've been drifters. They've only been working here for a few months."

I hummed. "What's the name of the other missing girl? And do you think you could give me a general description of her? I'll need her address as well."

"Do you think she's been killed, too?" the bartender asked, aghast.

"It's a possibility I can't rule out. Now, a name?" I asked again.

"Oh, right. The other girl is Daisy Holmes. About 5'2", dark hair, dark eyes, fair-skinned; we don't employ coloreds or orientals unless they're musicians," he added. "As for an address, I'd have to check. I think they lived together, but you'd be better off asking the other girls."

I hummed once more, making a note of it. "When was the last time you saw either of them?"

"Last Friday night; two days ago."

"Did they leave with anyone? A man?"

"Not that I noticed," he said. "We don't encourage our girls to do that sort of thing. But we can't police what they do in their off time and sometimes the club's members can be rather generous for those that spend more time than is appropriate at their tables. You have to understand, these are wealthy and powerful men who are used to getting what they want. We try to curtail any impropriety as we can, but there's a limit to what we can do."

Perhaps this was a lead, I wondered.

"Anyone who stands out in particular? Someone who might've been more than a little angry about being told no? Or who held more than a passing interest in your girls?"

The question caused the bartender to hesitate. He looked nervous. "No, not that I noticed."

"You do know that lying to an officer of the law, even a private one, while they are investigating a crime is a crime in and of itself?" I pressed. "You'd be better off telling me what I want to know."

He shook his head resolutely. "I can't just level those kinds of accusations upon the members of this club. I'm sorry I can't be of more help."

I eyed him for a moment, sizing up the man to see if I couldn't push for more. However, I could see from the resolute set of his jaw that I wasn't going to get anymore from this line of inquiry. Instead, I took another drink and changed the conversation. "Alright then," I said, causing him to relax.

"Oh, one last thing before I go. Could you send your girls my way? I've a few follow-up questions for them. Preferably asked somewhere I can hear myself think; a staff backroom or something?"

The bartender nodded. "Of course, detective. There is a staff breakroom you can use. It's just behind the staff door over there," he said, pointing to an out of the way door to the right of the bar. "I'll send the girls your way soon. Care for another drink while you wait?"

"Sure."

As the bartender poured another drink into my empty glass, and the Dwarf's at his pointed cough, the soft sound of jazz filling the air slowed gently to a stop. Casting a curious look toward the stage, I saw that the band was preparing for another song.

While they did, a portly man dressed in finery stepped up onto the stage. He looked like a pig trussed up in velvet. Approaching the microphone, he dabbed at his sweaty forehead with a pale handkerchief.

"What a performance!" he blustered, trying in vain to garner applause for the band from the drunken crowd. A spattering of claps met him. "Right, ahem, now then, I'm delighted and thrilled to introduce our main attraction of tonight to the stage; the wonderful, the amazing, the gorgeous; Miss La Lapine!"

Cheers and whistles tore through the air as a woman strode onto stage.

Our eyes met across the room.

Chapter Four: La Lapine; The Rabbit

Onto the stage in carmine walked the singer, La Lapine. The length of her sparkling dress swirled about her long legs like an ocean of blood. She possessed the body of a goddess; all rich curves and long lines. Dark skin and wavy hair shone under the warmth of the lights high above. Golden hoops glinted on either side of her face, hanging delicately from her earlobes. She glanced about the room with soulful eyes, roaming over all like a queen surveying her domain or a goddess her faithful.

I knew this woman. I'd met her before; I was sure of it. To the core of my being, I was certain our paths had crossed. Yet her face remained a mystery to me.

Her eyes alighted upon me for but a moment. Was there a spark of recognition in her eyes too? Or was I hoping for something that wasn't meant to be?

She turned away.

The portly announcer fled as she approached the lonesome microphone. As she stood before it, the room fell to a hush. She glanced back at the band behind her, and they began to play. Slow jazz filled the air, building up and up and up. She smirked, eyes half-lidded. The smile stole the breath from the room. An exhale brushed the microphone like a gentle caress.

"Blue moon~"

Velvet was her voice. It filled the hall, enrapturing all under the singer's spell. None dared breath too loud lest they break the weaving placed upon them.

"You saw me standing alone~

"Without a dream in my heart~

"Without a love of my own~"

...Liddie gasped. She struggled to breathe as if she'd just emerged from the depths of a dark ocean. Her eyes faltered for a moment, trying in vain to adjust to the pure blackness above. A shadow passed over her; a monster, looming like a fog; the haunting Memory Eater. It screamed into her mind. The sound crashed over the rogue like a hurricane making landfall.

She staggered. Liddie's eyes roamed the endless sands seeking aid or shelter from the assault upon her senses. All she saw was more of the black sand and half-forgotten dreams. Shades lingered here, reliving a life long since past. Their hollow eyes gathered to stare into Liddie's own, sending a chill down her spine.

In her hand, her blade rested; a calm weight.

Of her companions, she saw naught; lost too were they in the dark.

Stolen novel; please report.

A light brightened suddenly nearby, sending the shades and monster above reeling back with hateful screeching that tore at the rogue's mind. Peering into the brightness, she saw a familiar figure — Edwyn the Dwarf; the Runelord. One hand he held above himself in which a powerful rune glowed with the light of a young star, shielding both body and mind from the wrath of the monsters in the mind and that of false memories.

Taking her sword in hand, Liddie staggered towards him.

"Blue moon~"

The world tilted as the song continued, as it rolled over the dunes like a lonesome dirge.

Or was it her that'd done so? That'd tilted.

"You knew just what I was there for~

"You heard me sayin' a prayer for~

"Someone I really could care for~"

...Suddenly, the world seemed to right itself, and I staggered to the side as a wave of nausea overwhelmed me. My shoulder crashed hard against the wall beside me, sending a jolt of pain skittering up my side.

Strange, I thought, wasn't there a bar there just a moment ago?

Shaking off my wayward thoughts and the lingering pain, I glanced down the corridor I'd suddenly found myself wandering down.

Loose trash and scrawled graffiti greeted my eyes, collected in the corners and upon the walls of a dilapidated hallway. Faded halogen bulbs and flickering neon lights illuminated a series of doors stretching its length, each bearing faded numbers upon their unwashed faces. Cockroaches and other foul bugs scurried through the dark corners of this cesspool of humanity, jumping from shadow to shadow beneath my watchful eyes.

305 — that's the apartment number that the girls from the club told me where the two missing girls lived.

Or had they? It was hard to recall with my head splitting open as it was. It felt like the world had skipped forward a few pages.

Gathering my strength, I pushed myself off the grimy, graffiti-coated wall beside me. Idly, I noted that I'd drawn my sidearm at some point, although the specifics of when eluded me. The weight of the .38 Special felt both familiar and foreign as it lay within my grip. Shaking off the discordant feelings, I steadily approached the door to 305.

I stopped beside it, not yet ready to enter.

Something niggled at me; a sense of dread or perhaps anticipation. My keen eyes searched the length of the hallway both before and behind, but I saw nothing that might've alarmed my instincts. But alarmed they were. Glancing down at the handle, I reached out and gently tried it.

It was unlocked.

The door opened with a gentle click. The sound was like a gunshot in the silence.

Later perhaps I'd chalk my actions later as instinct or maybe adrenaline and paranoia, but as the near silent sound echoed into the apartment beyond, I suddenly dived back and out of the way just in time to avoid the door exploding outwards in a hail of gunfire.

"And then there suddenly appeared before me~

"The only one my arms will hold~"

Pain bloomed in my mind, splitting my skull in two...

"I heard somebody whisper, 'Please adore me'~

"And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold~"

...Liddie the Swashbuckler crashed through the ruined door like the wrath of an avenging god, her white-gold blade flashing before her. The shades that'd laid in ambush shrieked as the mithril edge parted their ethereal flesh with ease. Faded guns failed to track the elusive rogue as she darted from cover to cover. Bullets fairly ripped from glowing barrels with thunderous applause to ravage the air, yet none found their mark.

A cut here.

A slice there.

Shades fell one by one.

The slender demonic figure dashed through the memory of an apartment as more and more damnable shades poured into the apartment from the destroyed entrance. With submachine guns in hand, they sought to overwhelm their prey with a hail of fire.

An unearthly roar, they unleashed.

The rogue, surprised, dove for cover behind the kitchen bar. Hundreds of bullets tore into the wood like a million angry termites, reducing it to splinters in almost an instant.

Liddie swore colorfully as she felt at her side where she lay. Her fingers came away red. It seemed a bullet had caught her. "Getting sloppy, huh?" She chuckled to herself with a wince. Her mind still felt like it was on fire, and the silent wailing from high on above wasn't helping.

Grabbing a few knives from the shattered cutlery drawers, or at least the memories of such, Liddie threw them with unerring accuracy towards the nearest shade. However, they simply passed through the specter without harm, earning another swear from the piratical rogue. With her mind under constant siege and her cover rapidly vanishing, she couldn't linger here forever. So, as soon as the hail of gunfire abated somewhat, she hurled herself from cover with her cutlass in hand.

The shades stood little chance; the memories of two-bit gangsters couldn't match the fury of a cornered adventurer.

When the last of the remembered dead fell, Liddie slumped down against a bullet-riddled couch to catch her breath. She winced as her side ached.

"Now, where is that cat at? Eme! You here?!"

"Blue moon~"

Liddie groaned as the song invaded her mind, splitting it open once more. "Ah, fuck me. Not again!"

"Now, I'm no longer alone~

"Without a dream in my heart~

"Without a love of my own~"

...I jolted as my eyes opened once more. An ache pressed down on my mind, like the city itself was pressing down on my consciousness with all its hateful darkness and unbearable gloom. Reaching down, I pressed my fingers to my side where a bullet had grazed me. They came away clean, much to my confusion.

Hadn't I been shot? I wondered, or was I just misremembering?

For the life of me, I couldn't recall.

Gunsmoke lingered in the air. A familiar fragrance.

I looked up sharply, glancing around myself to remember what I was doing. Somehow, I'd found myself backstage at the Black Cat Club. The cheerful sound of jazz filtered in from beyond the carmine curtains behind me, although they now lacked the accompanying sultry vocals of the beautiful La Lapine.

Ah, now I remembered. I'd headed back here to question the singer about the missing girls. To see if she'd noticed any strange fellows lingering around or interacting with them. The other waitresses had mentioned that the missing girls had been close to the singer.

Hadn't they?

Rubbing the drowsiness from my eyes, I searched about for the singer's dressing room. It took a while, but I eventually found it hidden away behind a door labeled: "Colored's only."

Something about that phrasing plainly written there stung something deep inside me in a way that I didn't understand.

I knocked on the closed door; three sharp sounds that echoed deep within the room beyond. "Miss La Lapine?" I said, voice pitched to carry through the wood. "Might I have a few words with you?"

There was a sound of movement within the dressing room before a soft voice called out. "Yes? Who is it?"

I recognized the voice; it was La Lapine, although her voice was now filled with curiosity and apprehension rather than sultry singing.

"It's Detective Devil with the Devil's Eye Detective Agency," I replied calmly, keeping my voice sounding as non-confrontational as possible. I didn't want her to think that I thought of her as a suspect. My instincts were sharp, and they were telling me that Miss La Lapine wasn't a killer. "I'd like a quick word with you about the disappearance of two girls from the club; Jenny and Daisy?"

After a moment of silence, the door creaked open to reveal the rich visage of the tall, dark-skinned singer I sought. I must've just caught after she'd vacated the stage as she still wore the red dress that clung to her shapely body.

She looked even more beautiful up close. Like a gem hidden in this coal mine of a city.

Her eyes darted down to the badge I'd withdrawn from my vest to assure her of my identity. However, rather than reassure her, it only caused her to tense up more. Her body language closed off. She set her shoulders with steel and crossed her arms beneath her ample bust.

In her eyes, a myriad of emotions swirled: fear, annoyance, resignation, and indignation.

Looking at her, it was clear she'd already made up her mind about what kind of detective I was. The kind that'd look at the color of her skin and judge her for it before even asking a single question. I did not begrudge her wariness, for there were far too many in my line of work that were like that.

Me? I'd never felt that way about anybody. I'd judge them by their actions, never by their race, creed, or religion.

Still, if I wanted answers, I'd have to turn on the charm. Thankfully, I had that in spades.

I flashed her a charming smile as I tucked my badge away. Gesturing deeper into the room, I spoke. "Might I come in for a moment? I just have a few quick questions for you in regards to the missing girls that work here."

For a moment it looked like she'd refuse, but she relented in the end. "Very well. You said something about Miss Jenny and Miss Daisy going missing?"

"Yes," I said as I entered the room. "But I'm afraid that Miss Jenny was found dead early this-"

"And then there suddenly appeared before me~

"The only one my arms will ever hold~"

The world stuttered once more, the pages of the novel flipping forward at a rapid pace.

"I heard somebody whisper, 'Please adore me'~

"And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold~"

...Liddie swore colorfully as she staggered down a crooked street lit only by the faded memories of neon signs and flickering streetlights. Beside her, she half-dragged, half-carried the insensate form of her knightly compatriot. She'd found Nelva sleeping face down among the sand and dunes.

Whilst this was nominally a good thing, she'd somehow lost Edwyn somewhere along the way. And when she looked around for them, all she saw was more black sand and towering buildings.

High above, racing through the black, the foul Memory Eater shrieked as it searched for the scattered party. Its ghoulish gloam swooped and scoured over the rooftops of the treasured memories it'd stolen from the various warriors, adventurers, and foolish thrill-seekers who'd had the misfortune of befalling it.

Ducking down a dark alley, Liddie slumped tiredly against a grimy wall and let her heavy compatriot slide down onto the alley floor. She tried not to think too deeply about how she could rest up against a memory as it just made her head hurt. She'd leave the big thinking and existential crises to the more intellectually inclined of the group. When she found them, of course.

Liddie let out a deep sigh. Looking over at her fellow adventurer, she shook Nelva roughly. "Come on, wake up!" she hissed. "I'm not dragging your fat ass all the way to…wherever the fuck we need to go! Wake up!"

Nelva just continued to mutter nonsensical words in her sleep.

"Gods damn it!" Liddie cried out. She lashed out at the wall beside her in aggravation, striking it with her fist. Her knuckles protested their treatment. Grabbing Nelva by her armor, Liddie shook her some more. "I ain't dying here, you hear! Wake up, you damn rabbit!"

Nelva didn't wake, no matter how hard the pirate shook her.

Letting go with a sob, Liddie slumped down beside her maybe-friend. "Stupid tomb, stupid ghosts, stupid fucking sand! There better be some damn good loot at the end of all this! And you can forget about getting a share if you sleep through it all!"

The pirate's shoulders fell in a defeated slump as she silently cried.

With her back to the wall, both metaphorically and physically, and the silence eating at her, Liddie's hand ventured into her coat to retrieve something from within a hidden pocket lining the inside. When she withdrew her hand, she held an onyx sphere between her fingers. It was small, about the size of an eye, and one side glittered with a kaleidoscope of colors that swirled like a galaxy resting upon a starry abyss. Gazing into the orb left her both enthralled and frightened.

The Watcher's Eye — stolen away when no one was looking from a vault of treasures.

According to the plaque Autumn had translated, this unassuming crystal could, or would, grant its bearer the ability to peer through all illusions, including the barriers between dimensions.

And all it'd cost was an eye.

An eye for an eye.

Such a small price to pay for such a boon.

Yet, even as she held a possible salvation up before her, Liddie couldn't help but hesitate. For all that she was: a drunkard, a swashbuckler, a rogue, and a charmer, Liddie wasn't much for self-mutilation even if it meant escape from this hells-forsaken place. Or even just the ability to see a way out.

But did she even have a choice?

Was this the only way for her to survive?

The cost of an eye seemed cheap in comparison.

So why was she hesitating?

Perhaps she'd never know. Not now at least, for as she was just gathering up the courage to answer her doubts, a light sprang up from around the corner of the alley from down the way she'd come. It danced across the remembered brickwork like so many fireflies.

Pocketing the pilfered gemstone with haste, Liddie rose swiftly to her feet and drew her shining blade. As she breathed deeply, preparing for combat, the light drew closer and closer, swaying in a stomping rhythm.

What manner of beast cast a lantern light such as this?

What angler from the deeps had followed her?

Sailors like her knew to be wary of that which swam in the black. Visions of teeth like swords and jaws like a dragon's sprung to the forefront of her mind. Translucent skin and glowing lights. Poisonous spots and tangled death. Tentacles miles long and beaked maws.

When the light was near on her, Liddie spun around the corner with a mighty roar, blade held high to strike down the predator chasing her, the foulness that sought to devour her and her charge. However, as her eyes fell upon the figure before her, she hastily aborted her strike.

"Hells damn it, girlie! Dinnae startle me like that!"

Edwyn clutched at his heart as he staggered back. In one hand, the one current pressed up against his frantically beating heart, he held a glowing rune that shone with a star's light. His other hand supported a softly snoring on his back. The familiar flaming hair and lilac skin of Pyre, the Alchemist, greeted the pirate's eyes.

"Sorry," Liddie said, not sorry much at all — her own heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest. "Thought you were some monster or something. This place has got me all turned around. Glad to have found you again though, and I see you've found our littlest. Did you see any of the others?"

"I thought I saw two o' 'em up at the Castle. Autumn an' Nethlia, I believe. Didnae see the others. Ye see anyone? Nelva or Eme?"

"I've got Nelva stashed in the alleyway," she said, pointing at the slumbering knight. "No idea where Eme is. But what's this about a castle?"

Liddie hadn't seen such a thing, only these strange streets of brick and steel and glass. That could be what Edwyn meant, but she doubted it.

Edwyn gave her a look as if she was the biggest idiot they'd ever met before gesturing with a heavy dose of exasperation towards the north with his glowing rune. "That castle there, you eejit!"

Insulted, Liddie turned in the direction Edwyn had pointed, ready to lambast him for gesturing towards nothing but open air. Yet, before the caustic words could leave her mouth, she froze as before her demonic eyes stood a massive stone castle that towered incongruously over the fading memories of the city of Chicago.

She blinked.

Nope, still there.

"Huh, would you look at that? That wasn't there before, I'm sure of it."

"It was."

"...Was not."

Edwyn glowered at the pirate. "I ain't gonna play that game wit' ye! We need tae find the others an' fast before that beastie comes back!"

"Right," Liddie drawled. "Well, like I said, I've got our knightly Nelva stashed in this alley, but she's still out of it, and we're still just missing Eme, if Autumn and Nethlia are up at the Castle like you said. Any idea on where the cat's at? Or how to wake our sleeping damsels up? We don't have to kiss them, right?"

"Nay, nothin' like that," Edwyn grumbled as they approached the alleyway to peer at the slumped form of Nelva. The Chevalier muttered nonsense in her sleep. "As for Eme, I suspect she'll be at the end o' whatever this awful story is. Likely in peril tae. I donnae have enough runes to keep us all awake right now an' keep that beastie above off o' our backs at the same time. Iffen we could find somewhere tae shelter, I could try an' carve some more an' somethin' to rouse our sleepin' friends.'"

"Friends is a strong word," Liddie muttered under her breath. Louder, she said: "Shelter? What shelter? We're in a dune, if you hadn't noticed, and that shadow, or whatever it is, can swoop right through these buildings!" Taking a breath, she looked to the glowing rune held in the Runelord's hand. "How does that work anyway? How's it keeping that monster at bay?"

"The beastie is afraid o' the light. It is a bein' o' despair an' misery, lingerin' here in the dark between worlds. It feeds off o' things it cannae have — our memories, our lives an' warmth. Anythin' bright is anathema tae it. My rune can shield us from its influence for a time. The stronger the mind, the less it can influence." Edwyn gave her a side-eye. "I suppose that explains why you've had such a tough time holdin' onto yer personality."

Liddie scowled at the Manus. "Stuff it. We need to move before that monster finds us. Or digs up enough courage to brave the light."

A shriek from overhead and the swoop of a many-limbed shadow paid heed to her fear.

"Shit! We need to go before that song starts up again!" Liddie shouted as she stooped to gather Nelva back up in her arms. Shouldering the burden of the armored woman once more, she staggered down the alleyway, eyes scanning for foes.

Behind her, Edwyn hurried to catch up, all the while carrying Pyre on his back.

"What song?!"

"Blue moon~"

"That fucking song!"

"Now, I'm no longer alone~

"Without a dream in my heart~

"Without a love of my own~"

Liddie staggered forward down the alleyway as the song tore through her mind, setting it aflame with agony. Her eyes saw double. One saw the world as it was, all black sand and roiling darkness filled with horrors, the other glimpsed the memories of another world she'd never stepped foot in, that of steel and concrete. Her feet drew her further away from the horror behind her in the sky, even if her stomach wanted to slow her as it rebelled.

Behind her, Edwyn followed. His dogged steps slipped through the sand as he hauled ass.

Madness and hate followed them. Hundreds of shades, twisted by the Memory Eater's cruel mind, howled in pursuit of the pair and their burdens. The street they'd just left soon became clogged with enemies.

Sweat trickled down the pirate's spine as she ran.

"Blue moon~"

The song continued, drawing soon to an end.

"Now, I'm no longer alone~

"Without a dream in my heart~

"Without a love of my own~"