The ride out of New Orleans did Terry a world of good. As always he took a different route out than he did in. No one objected. It seemed like the moment they left the urban sprawl of the city and found themselves on more rural paths Terry felt like a bandage had been placed on his soul. The air didn’t smell like alcohol, garbage, and his own sadness. He was out in the sunshine, he was on his pet scooter, and Delores was hanging on to him. He was headed home. Things felt better.

  Louisiana was pretty. It was a completely different pretty from Mississippi, but pretty none the less. Where Mississippi looked like a place in hospice, Louisiana had someone trying to keep it alive. It had hope. And yet, here he was. He couldn’t wait to get back on those quiet back roads and see home again. To feel like he belonged. He’d planted roots. He’d never wanted to. He wanted to travel the wide world and see things. Well, he'd seen some things. Things he didn't really want to remember. Now he was going home.

  “Are you ok?” Delores asked from behind him, giving his waist a squeeze.

  “Delores, is it cowardice to want to go home like this? Only four months out?” he asked. He’d answered her with another question, but he thought it summed up his current mental state.

  “Of course not!” she said. “Both of our lives have kinda been upended in the last twenty-four hours. You’ll want to recenter yourself. I envy you. I wish I could go home.”

  Terry leaned forward and spoke to Thunder.

  “Buddy, are you ok to steer for a few minutes?” The headlight nodded and the handlebars waggled until he let go. I have autopilot, he thought. He placed his hands on top of Delores’s at his waist.

  “I’m sorry, D. You’re welcome in mine. You know that, right?”

  “They haven’t even met me, Terry.”

  “They’re going to adore you.” He said.

  “Even though I’m a heathen?” she asked and he could hear the grin.

  “I’ll talk to Ernest about that. He’s spouting garbage he learned in his early training.”

  He hadn’t thought about that. He couldn’t imagine a situation where Ernest and Dottie wouldn’t like Delores. Or Elton, for that matter. Well, Ernest might not like Elton, but it would be fine in the end. He needed them to like his friends. He needed them to accept Delores. He didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t. But he thought of Dottie’s face and how she’d look when he showed up with Delores. He thought of Ernest giving him a knowing smirk. Terry stopped worrying about that.

  Terry felt Delores lay her head on his back and he allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment. Before he’d left on this endeavor, the Voice had asked him if he felt whole. He hadn’t. He’d never felt whole. He did now. Even with this thing the Order had piled on his plate, and his sudden questioning of some of his vows. Terry felt whole.

  He looked down at Thunder’s gauges and put his hands back on the handlebars. The fuel gauge was getting dangerously low.

  “Holy crap! Thunder, buddy, we need to find you a gas station. I should have done this before we left.” He said.

  Delores looked over his shoulder at the gauge.

  “Hey,” she said brightly, “we should get Thunder a horn! Or a bell! Then he can get our attention easier!”

  “We might just.” He said. “A bell though. I don’t think anyone would appreciate the horn. Not even you.”

  Delores laughed.

  They found a sign pointing off the highway near one of the many bayous, that read “Dans la Bouche”. The sign also had a fuel symbol and that decided them. There was only the one road into town from the highway it seemed, and if there was a word that Terry could use to describe the town it was “mildewed”. “Squalid” would also have worked. The entire place gave off the faint smell of a day old, damp dish cloths. It was small and it looked mostly abandoned, which was a terrible sign.

  “Never heard of this place.” Delores said over Terry’s shoulder as they passed closed and rotting shops. There was an old Piggly Wiggly that had shut down years prior.

  “I don’t like how this place feels.” Terry mumbled and he thought Delores looked at him sharply, but he was paying too much attention to the passing squalor to say for sure.

  The gas station, more of a grocery, was on the corner of the main intersection. It was cut from the same cloth as the place Terry had stopped at the beginning of “The Poo Gauntlet”. The only real difference was it looked. . . Moist. It had a painted logo by the door that said “Dans la Bouche Gas & Go” and had a little cartoon catfish juggling produce. Terry couldn’t imagine willingly buying fresh anything from here.

  Even with the sky clear, the town felt overcast somehow. The whole place FELT gray. He wished there had been someplace more friendly. Someplace with bars on the windows and maybe an active drug dealer out front who was at least talkative. This felt like the wind blowing through a dead tree. He didn’t think there could be a place that felt less friendly than New Orleans had. He was wrong. They'd found it.

  They rolled up to the pumps which were at least of a modern make. They all dismounted and stretched.

  “Hey Terry?” Delores asked as Terry stretched his back. “If I pump, can you go inside and grab me a candy bar or something? I figure the faster we leave, the better.”

  “Everything all right?” he asked. Her expression was one of mild disgust. He looked and saw Elton seemed down right frightened of the place.

  “Something in the air here.” She said. “It feels, I dunno. Greasy? Like, oily. It may be something with the mana. I don’t like it.”

  Terry nodded. This place still felt off to him. He didn’t mention his feeling about it though.

  “What does Dans la Bouche mean, anyway?” Terry asked no one in particular.

  Elton looked at them both.

  “In the Mouth.”

  Terry shivered.

  “I’m gonna get you that candy bar. Don’t leave without me.”

  Before he could walk a way, she grabbed him by the lapels of his duster, pulled him in, and gave him a massive kiss before letting him go. He started walking backwards toward the store, smiling at her. She laughed.

  “You look like a complete goober with that grin. Now hurry up! I don’t want to get to know this place any more than I have to!”

  He waved and turned to the store. He couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face. He went inside.

  Rachel Marsh sat in the Dans la Bouche Gas & Go and watched her life pass, slowly, one moment at a time. She’d been there for years. She may be there for years more as far as she could tell. Every day she came to the station under the orders of her father, and stared out the window hoping that someone would come through and rescue her from her life. That was the entire point, wasn’t it? She’d wanted to leave, her father told her the conditions. She needed to meet those.

  She was the last of the Marsh sisters who’d gone unmarried, which meant her sisters had spoiled her cover. She wasn’t an unattractive eldritch horror. Far from it. Before her sisters were gone she’d had many possible suitors tell her how beautiful she was. She was shapely. Her eyes were just large enough to be fascinating and beautiful without actually looking like a fish-person. No, what the big problems were now, were the blue hair, gray skin, gills, and webbed fingers and toes. The change had been sudden, but not particularly unkind to her. Just enough to be a problem. Not like poor Rebbecca and Esther.

  The plan was for Rachel to be the one facing the public. Perhaps she could charm someone before she became too old to spawn. She had her two cousins, Banjo and M’klar, working with her. They watched her to make sure she didn’t try to run.

  She’d only tried that once. She winced every time she thought of the pain. She pushed that aside.

  Her family also “encouraged” her to be “more forward” with their few non-local customers. The best she could usually manage was sympathetic. The number of “you poor girl” comments she’d gotten was disheartening. She really DID want to meet someone. She just didn’t want to have to drop roe for a week straight when she did. She didn’t particularly think the family SHOULD continue, given the things she knew about them.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  And now she sat in the moist smelling shop, staring out the window again at a sunny autumn day and hoping she became infertile soon so that her father wouldn’t have a use for her. She could hear M’klar pricing cans of corn somewhere on the sales floor and Banjo was in the back playing Solitaire. It was enough to make a girl cry, if she had tear ducts.

  Rachel watched as two scooters pulled up to the pumps. What an odd convoy, she thought. One was a beautiful red Italian. . .something. She didn’t really know scooters. The man on it removed his helmet and he was actually cute! Wonderful! A little chubby, but that didn’t matter to her. He had friendly eyes. Then she looked at the other scooter.

  There was a bald woman. Well, Rachel had one up on her at least. The man with her was stretching his back and when he turned and took his goggles off, Rachel stared. He was an absolute vision. Like some statue out of antiquity made flesh and she suddenly VERY much wanted him to come inside for snacks or something so they could club him over the head and take him to the church. She held no illusions on her ability to bag this guy.

  “BANJO!” she shouted. The eight foot tall hulk stood in the doorway wearing his overalls, the only clothing that would fit him.

  “What, Rachel?” he said in a voice that she could almost feel through the floor, and was already tinged with annoyance. She turned to her cousin and gave him a bright smile.

  “Banjo, be a dear and sort of lurk over there in the corner for a few? We might have a prospect.”

  The massive man looked out the window. He knew exactly which one she meant. The one the girl was kissing. Wait, what? Banjo turned to her.

  “You’re better off going after Mr. Pillsbury there. He might not be missed.”

  “Hush!” She hissed. “He’s coming in. Don’t ruin this for me! Dad’ll kill you!”

  The massive fish-man went back to a corner and stood there. After a moment, his naturally gray skin blended with the gray walls and he nearly disappeared. She quickly unbuttoned two of her shirt buttons and spread the gap. Couldn’t hurt, she thought.

  The door opened and the little bell jingled and the man walked in. Armor. He was a knight. A knight in shining armor has come, she thought and tried not to get a case of the vapors.

  “Uh, hi.” He said. His voice wasn’t incredibly deep, but powerful. Without another word he started browsing. She shook herself.

  “Let me know if you need some help there!” She called out in her sweetest sing-song voice.

  He looked up at that and arched an eyebrow at her.

  “I think I’ve got it. Thanks though.” He smiled at her with that eyebrow still raised. She felt lightheaded. She could have sooooo many eggs with this guy.

  He found what he needed and brought it up to the counter. She leaned on the counter on her elbows. She was presenting. Normally she’d feel like a brazen hussy for doing this, but this time not so much.

  “Hi, cutie.” She said and crinkled her nose at him, smiling. He immediately went on the defensive.

  “Right. I just need these and I need to go. Thanks.” No smiles now. She’d laid it on too thick. She pouted.

  “Yes, sir.” She caught Banjo’s eyes and M’Klar popped up from behind a counter. The two moved surprisingly slowly and quietly when they wanted to. She bagged his goods and started pretending to have trouble with the card reader.

  “Sorry, sir. Card read error. Can you try it again?” She needed to distract him. “Where are you guys headed?”

  The man was becoming aggravated with the machine, but didn’t seem actually angry.

  “Hmm? Oh. Raymond, Mississippi. I’m headed home for a bit. I want my friends to meet what family I have left.”

  She started. People normally didn't get this far in a conversation with her.

  “That’s nice.” She said, suddenly interested in this guy beyond his eyes and chin. “Family you have left?” Why was she asking this? At least it kept him talking and facing her.

  He looked up at her and she took an involuntary step back. She didn’t think she’d ever seen such open honesty on a stranger before. It made her think of a little boy. It frightened her.

  “All I really have is my aunt and uncle now.” He said. “I-I think I need to make things right back home.”

  She just stared at those eyes. No malice, no disgust. Just openness. And then Banjo punched him in the back of the head and dropped him like a bad habit. She just kept staring where those eyes had been. Ah crap, she thought, he’s a nice guy.

  It took Banjo and M’klar barely a minute to get the Elder Sign plate attached with the binding chains and then shove a rag in his mouth and put a burlap sack over his head. Banjo lifted the knight under an arm. Rachel turned to M’klar.

  “Mind the shop! We’re going through the tunnels and we’ll take him to the church. Just act like he wasn’t here! Gaslight them! Anything!”

  With that, they were both scrambling to the back. Behind the overstock shelves, Rachel pulled up the lid of a trap door and let Banjo drop through. She grabbed onto a ring on the underside of the trapdoor and leaped in, letting her motion and weight pull the door closed behind her.

  There was no logical reason these tunnels hadn’t flooded next to a bayou other than “a wizard did it”. Father T’gmut had laid these himself in the 30’s with the old magics. The ones from before the Awakening. This magic rested with the Old Ones. The tunnels would stay dry until the stars were wrong for them to be.

  The earthen tunnel was dark but she could see almost perfectly. The damp smell of dirt and clay permeated the air down there. They both took off at a trot. Banjo running on two feet with his burden, and Rachel on all fours taking massive leaps ahead like a frog.

  This guy seemed really nice. She hoped she could win him over. She didn’t want her father to have to get involved. She wanted a husband, not cattle.

  Delores stood there by Thunder with her arms crossed watching the door. Even factoring in a quick bathroom break, this was taking entirely too long. Thunder was getting antsy, his front tire bouncing slightly. Elton was so shaky, he was starting to remind her of Shaggy from Scooby-Doo.

  “Elton.” He jumped when she said his name. Seriously? “What has you so freaked?”

  She knew what had her freaked. She wanted to know what was setting a normie off. He looked at her.

  “Dans la Bouche. ‘In the Mouth’. Everything’s damp. I have a REALLY bad feeling about this place.”

  “Well, we’re going in after Terry.” She looked at Thunder, scratching his headlight. “Thunder, you’re guarding the Vespa. If anyone tries to come in after us. . .” She thought about it. “Run them over? I guess?” The scooter nodded vigorously. “C’mon, Elton. The bard looked terrified, but he followed her into the store.

  Inside Delores found a short, round man with not a single follicle of hair anywhere on his head or arms. Not even eyebrows. He had giant, off putting eyes. She wasn’t even sure he had eye lids. She heard Elton whimper behind her.

  The small man looked at her when she walked in and when he didn’t blink she started doing so in sympathy. She tore her eyes away and looked around the store. None of the aisles were taller than her chest and she saw no sign of her young Errant. She leaned over to Elton and whispered.

  “There’s a men’s room back there. Check it out for me.” He nodded and headed to the back.

  Delores walked up to the counter and pretended to browse the merchandise behind the fish-smelling man. And he reeked of fish. Behind the counter was typical fare for a store like this. Vape supplies, USB cables, and cigarettes.

  “Getcha anything, ma’am?” the man said in a low croak. It was such an unsettling sound that Delores stared at him. He had folds in his neck, she saw. What was this guy? She blinked a few more times and it seemed to pull her back to the here and now.

  “Where’s my boyfriend? I literally just got him.”

  “I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve seen no one here-“

  “Yeah,” she interrupted, “we’re not doing this creepypasta crap. He came in here to get me a candy bar and I can’t help but notice your store is empty.” She saw Elton come out of the men’s room and shake his head.

  She took a step back from the weird little man. She could feel mana inside him. It still felt greasy. By the time she felt it surge in him and his hand came up with a wand, her hands were already in motion and making a circle over her head. His spell released and got sucked into the invisible torrent of her own mana above her. She wasn’t sure if his eyes grew wide, since they were too big any way, but he definitely let out a panicked croak.

  She whipped the spell back at him and before he could move, spectral chains bound him. There was a padlock at the center with a yellow tree branch thing glowing on it. She didn’t know the symbol but she knew it had the feel of old magic. The kind of thing used before the worlds were divided. The man shrieked and fell sideways onto the floor. She heard Elton run up to see what had just happened.

  “What’d you do?” the bard asked.

  “Me?” she said, “Nothing. This jack-wagon tried to hit me with Spectral Chains apparently.”

  “And?” Elton asked as she watched the man try to crawl away like an inch-worm.

  “I know almost every counter-spell and redirect known to man.”

  She walked around behind the counter and considered. She hadn’t had a chance to try what she was thinking. Not since her growth. She held her right hand up in a claw shape, facing forward. She drew mana in through the copper. She made a claw with her left hand and made a scooping motion and lifted. The gray man lifted into the air and she tried to temper her excitement. She moved him over his own counter and released. He dropped on the surface from less than a foot above it.

  Elton stared at her.

  “Since when have you been able to do that?” he said.

  “A little while, but I didn’t think to try.” She shook her head. She could experiment later. She walked over to look the weird guy in the face.

  “Where is Terry? Tall, good looking, black hair, armor.”

  “Father Dagon take you!” he shouted. Elton staggered back and knocked over a wire rack full of honey buns. He caught himself.

  “DAGON!” he shouted. “DAGON! FUCK, DAGON!? FUCK!” Delores turned around in confusion and looked at him.

  “What?! The Babylonian god? Or is this a reference to something else? Calm down, Elton!”

  Elton was pacing and running his fingers through his hair and failing to calm down. He looked at the bug-eyed man and walked up to him. He bent over and got in his face.

  “Like, the Esoteric Order of Dagon!?” he shouted at the short man.

  “You’ve heard of us?” the little man asked, confirming Elton’s question. He seemed very excited all of a sudden. “I have some literature for the church under the counter! Would you like to know Dagon’s plan for your life? Admittedly, it’s pretty terrible.”

  Elton turned and started pacing the aisles, eyes goggling and sweat beading on his face.

  “He’s dead!” the bard yelled. “Hell, WE’RE dead! DAGON! That means Hydra! That means. . .” He stopped, focusing on Delores. “We can’t leave. Can we? Not with Terry missing. Oh God. We’re all dead.”

  “Will someone explain what is going on here?!” Delores shouted, finally losing patience with the both of them. She turned back to the cultist? Was Elton saying he was a cultist? “YOU! If you don’t explain what’s going on and where Terry went I’m going to squeeze until you’re eyes come ALL the way out.” She held up her hand in a claw again and lightly squeezed. The chains around him constricted and he let out a horrible groan. Elton jumped in.

  “The Esoteric Order of Dagon is a cult that worships the aquatic high priest of a demigod thing that will one day destroy us all. Or something. I don’t know. I may actually take some of that literature he has, to study.”

  “Please do!” the creature said. They both looked at him.

  “Anyway,” Elton continued, “I have no idea why they’d take Terry, but they’re a cult and he’s pure of heart.” Elton gave Delores a look. “WAS pure of heart. Sorry.”

  She ignored that. He was still pure. She didn’t think she could corrupt him. She might be excited to try. . . That didn’t matter right now anyway. He was obviously in trouble, which was worrying given what she knew and suspected about him. She turned to the fish-man. God, it was obvious now, wasn’t it?

  “I’m putting more of this nasty, greasy mana into your bonds. You’re not going anywhere. Elton, I know you’re scared but we need to search this store.”

  Elton, for his part, nodded and immediately began checking behind the counter for anything that might be a clue. Delores started with the sales floor. She’d tear the place apart if she had to.