Downtown a small cluster of buildings made up what was once a weather radar station. In the past it used to process the data for the whole of the county. The location nestled in the Valley of Mawe made it resistant to a number of the storms. The harsh weather was notorious. It operated as normal from well before the war and until the end. It was co-opted for a time to operate as an air raid radar station.

  Their concrete walls were perfect to resist the blasts that could rain down on their heads. Once the war ended the weather radar had been moved to a tri-county location. The current owners, former soldiers, bought the place for a song. Their connections to the early foundations of the paladins helped to pay for the operation.

  Three of the buildings still stood without problem. Another two were considered condemned. That was the truth, only one of them. Three functioning buildings were built into the apartment complexes. Cheap and affordable it’d been the idea to house people affected by the war. The last functioning building was a secret base for the Paladins.

  One of the aforementioned Paladins was currently in the hideout. Given the low population of the area an actual paladin arriving was rare. They often chose to deploy them into areas that they could do the most good. The owners were the only ones to know about the place, using part of it as their lodgings.

  Paladin Wood stared into the mirror, his body wrapped in silken cloth. The insignia of the swords patterned across them. He was looking at his face. His beautifully ugly face that no one should ever have to lay their eyes upon.

  If any normal person saw it they’d see a handsome man. He was different. The only thing in his vision was his own disgusting mistakes, vile crimes. Wearing one's sins on their face. That is what he believed and it had been covered up, damaged by this blemish.

  The wounds to his body other than his face had already healed. His left arm which had been turned into a corkscrew with the bone as the cork was back to normal. His armor was collected in a heap on the other side of the room.

  Looking at the insignia on his armor he grimaced. Was this the way of Passion? He pursued it for so long taking each careful step. Making in roads with the higher-ups just to get back to the field. Giving up even his chance at becoming a royal.

  The corners of his mouth which held the white pieces of tape stared back into his eyes. Would things be different if he started all over? He didn’t think he’d have a chance, he needed to steep himself in the passion while it lasted. It was the only thing that made sense. He had to fix his face.

  *SLICK SLURP*

  Tale-tell sounds came to Paladin wood's ears. A grotesque bundle of vocal cords and throats squished their way into the room. Crawling around like the unholy cross between a snake and an inch worm. The mouth opened with a wet pop.

  “Paladin Wood, you are to receive an official reprimand. Please report to the nearest central house.”

  He paid the squire no mind as he fussed over his face. How was he to fix it? If he put any of his beautiful spirit into his hideous face it would be ruined. How could he atone for his sins without his face. Oh, the agony of sin!

  “Paladin Wood, Please. You trained me. Half of the Swords speak your name with reverence. Please return. Your reprimand would go away if you return to the Swords.”

  Amongst the monotone voice that was characteristic of Squire Lille was compassion. If one listened closely enough there was even respect. None of this would get through to Paladin Wood.

  “Reverence? For what? I am a shadow of myself. All those long years I was behind a desk. Held as a slave to the office. Look how rusty I have become. Even with all the training to reach into the world of a Wand.”

  “Sir, you were never trapped here. You were the one who crushed the world from one place.”

  It wasn’t entirely untrue. An army could not operate without intel, nor if communication broke down. Speaking in tongues was not something just anyone could do. He was the great switchboard of the battlefield during and after the war. He’d been one of the first Paladin’s keeping everything connected.

  “Yes, I crushed the land, I cursed its very existence. What do I have to show for it? The blood that I could wash my hands in. Where is it I might drown in death? The fact it was robbed from me. Where is the pity for the hideousness I wear?”

  Squire Lille had seen many of the older generations come undone. It was probably that he’d become a wand that finished him. It had to be that he’d changed who he was. She hoped it wasn’t just the natural course for them all. The Paladins were hope incarnate.

  “What would you have me do?”

  The question was out of pity. There was no more that he could do for the cause. Soon he’d become a complete liability. The liquidation team would be moved to take him out. If he did not end it with an honorable death, they would regain it for him.

  “I want the chance to do good. I want to end this hideous world. This world has taken the shape of my own face.”

  In the mirror the world twisted at his words. Beneath the robe his own body coiled, spasmed, and shifted around. It was as if hundreds of snakes were collected just beyond the cloth. His uncovered hands looked like a mass of burned wires. Dipping them into the sink he splashed cool water onto his face.

  There was a long pause. The coils contracted and curled onto one another. If this was his choice. As his handler it was for the good of the Order to send him off like an arrow. Not one piece should go without its final use.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “The boy. He knew of the transcendence. If you follow him you may find the progenitor of the World you see. The death you wish for I hope it's worth it. I tried to pull you away when the intel came in on who this town's lord might be. May you find salvation in the embrace of your enemy.”

  The throat pulled forward and then snapped backwards. With incredible speed it disappeared from the room. Sticky saliva and blood left in its wake. Turning back Paladin Wood found where it had curled was a new communicator.

  “I am Salvation.”

  ***

  Of the first guests that he’d expected his boss Jeb was not in the running. Nate had thought he’d see his old gang of delinquents before Jeb showed. Against all odds there he was his giggling blubber squeezing into the hospital chairs. The TV played the news.

  “Tonight at ten discussions continue over the coming military parade. It will honor 35 years of peace since The Great War ended. It will be led by General Servantus…”

  Jeb clicked the sound down his pudgy face looking unwell at the news. His father had been a general during the war. Nate wondered if the man was thinking about him. A quote from his own father came to mind. “Hard times make strong men, strong men make good times, good times make weak men.”

  “You know I was surprised to hear you were hurt, Lad. Honestly, I thought with your strength you couldn’t be. HAHA. ha.”

  The laughter receded as he looked pensive at the bandages. They wrapped across his whole body. Not just from the damage done by the Paladin but also everything they were fixing. It was the other day when the Head Doctor, Doctor Mei, had let him know what was going on.

  From what she inferred and his own guess. Mandy had paid to get him completely fixed up. Titanium and carbon fiber meshes covered bones. Various organs were replaced with perfectly matching 3D printed matter. Much of it had been done without his consent whilst he’d been knocked out.

  Doctor Mei said it was easier to just get it done then and there while he was still splayed open. Even then he was going through a laundry list of operations and tests. The original one week had become a speculated month. Much to his frustration.

  “Well, I’m just happy I’m still alive.”

  Nate spoke honestly with Jeb; there wasn’t much use for subterfuge here. Bound to his bed all he had were visitors and TV. The lack of channels was killing him. Talking about himself made him uncomfortable. He attempted to move the topic off himself.

  “It's nice that they're having a parade.”

  “Oh, yes Lad. Very Nice.”

  Jeb went into a silent reverie before he gave him a look. It was one of long lost memories. In truth if he was even looking at Nate, he couldn’t tell you.

  “Did you know that I served? Nothing fancy. I was in some skirmishes on the border of one of the pits. They say people used to worry about the radiation, but it’s not all that bad. Honestly got blown up with the rest of the land. No, it's all the warlords that popped up. Something about those places. The pits it, drives a man mad. You gaze out there especially at night and you can hear them.”

  “Who do you hear?”

  “The voices of the dead. Like they're still there. Each and every street, house, and building. Gone for certain but it's why we station squads there. People say they can see their loved ones. All they have to do is join them in the pits. I ended up breaking my back when a young woman tried to rush into the pit. Wild like an animal she was. Honestly, I didn’t even hate her for it.”

  “She took a lot from you. Why didn’t you hate her?”

  His gaze seemed to clear as he looked Nate in the eyes. A darkness in his eyes that wasn’t normally there. It was like an old form of Jeb possessed his body. He straightened where he sat as if his artificial spine was its original.

  “I couldn’t hate her, because I think I saw it too. It was just a step away. Those blinding white buildings and happy people. I don’t think I would have lasted much longer there. ”

  He paused for a moment, his body slouching once more. The darkness faded and he seemed to glow a bit like a fire was raging within him.

  “That's how I got to come back. The general never approved. But, I got to be with the woman I loved. We ended up not having any lads and lasses. Well, I guess that's a bit too much to say.”

  He gave Nate a kind smile. Jeb looked like a weight had been lifted from his body. His phone buzzed twice. Looking down Nate noticed the words “Mayor Baker”. Jeb apologized and excused himself to the hallway.

  The silence felt prickly on his skin. He’d not known that about Jeb. Nate didn’t know what to make of his story. Some of it seemed to even haunt Nate. The story had invited something into the room which even he could not see and it was not welcome. On the other hand at least Jeb had his wife. He flicked back on the TV.

  “Tonight we come to you from outside one of the victims' homes. One William Wells’ home here in the Westbrook Neighborhood. We wanted to show how the grass outside the home is also a calling card. It seems to be poisoned somehow and the day after the killing it will be found like this.”

  The news caster was outside of a home that was very familiar to Nate, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He was certain he’d seen that house recently. It danced on the edge of his brain teasing him with the whole truth.

  “Sorry, Lad. I’ll have to go. Got a meeting with some important people.”

  “Before you go. Does that building look familiar to you?”

  Jeb looked up at the one on the screen and made a slightly embarrassed face. He tried to cover it up with a fake cough. Nate’s brows rose sharply. Jeb was acting weird about the house.

  “Oh, I only know it as a place on the way to the Flick-and-Go.”

  “Thanks Jeb. Let's get back to ghost hunting soon.”

  Even if Mandy had covered the bill he’d still want to pay her back. It seemed she’d made an agreement with her dad. He didn’t want to see her under his thumb and was regretting letting her go as he did. When she dropped Teddy off he’d make it up to her. He decided not to press Jeb for now.

  “Haha, Yes. Get well soon lad.”

  As the scene played out once more on the screen something clicked into place. The dead grass and the placement of the home. It didn’t tell him much of what was going on but now he knew. The reason that the murderer couldn’t be found. He was using spirits to kill.

  At his door a knock came. Nothing had been scheduled for the evening nor did anyone call ahead. Looking up he found a girl in a gown leaned against the doorway. IV’s coming off her arm to the machine that she gripped tight in one hand.

  She was around Nate’s age. She might be younger with her short height and petite figure. Her long black hair fell all around her, as she stared at him like he was a sideshow attraction. A single finger tapped her lips in contemplation.

  “So you're The Mummy Man. I thought you’d have more bandages showing. Could you take the gown off to show me?”

  Nate felt an immediate irritation flare inside him.