It was nearly the afternoon by the time I returned home, stumbling down the stairs to my room and standing there silently. Not wanting to lay down, not wanting to sit, not wanting to do anything, I just stood completely still and waited. Waited for someone to show up, for my body to move on its own, to die, something that wasn’t rotting like a tree.
I stood like that until my legs started aching, until I heard my door open, and Samuel came downstairs carrying a small wooden box. His hair still wet like he’d just come from a shower, he ignored me at first as he went to set the box on my table. Even then, he stood in front of me like I was a statue, checking my bare eye a moment before declaring, “the bone’s hardened, your natural healing should have the muscle and skin over it in the next day or so. I’ll cut back on your balms a little, only give you enough to stop you feeling the pain.”
“Is that why you came down here?” I asked, turning my face up in disgust as he pulled me towards my table with no formalities.
“The Lady dropped these off a couple hours ago, you’re good to wear them if you want to. She had your measurements taken before Elizabeth even arrived, had some artisans work overtime, she made them to my recommendations even if she chose the designs,” he explained, clicking the box open as he turned to let me see.
Inside, nestled into four separate compartments, were four leather eye patches of different designs. A plain black one, a plain brown one, a red one with the designs of several flowers pressed to, and a blue one that caught my eye. A dark blue, someone had pressed into it the shape of a wolf’s head howling at the crescent moon, a half-accurate copy of the Purist symbol on my back.
It was a morbid display, and I felt disgusted as I asked Samuel, “why?”
“She was afraid you’d get something cheap, and it’d reflect on her,” he said, as though that explained everything.
Shaking my head, I ignored the eye patches for now and asked in an attempt to be a joke, “so benefits include eye patches, but not a company car?”
“We discussed that as well,” the man agreed with a hesitant nod, “the reliance on others was starting to affect your abilities, and driving you into dangerous actions for extra money. I found an old car with a decent frame at one of her junkyards, she’s thrown it to a chop shop for repairs so you’ll have something…well, a few layers of second hand, but running. Don’t give anyone the VIN number.”
I didn’t move, unsure what to do as I asked, “is there a reason you’re still here?”
He didn’t answer me at first, merely pulling the small jar of balm from his pocket and removing my black eye patch from the box as he said, “we buried the girl in the graveyard out back, if anyone has a complaint of a human being there they can take it up with me. Marked it with a board for now, figured if you wanted we could pour a square of cement and make a headstone. You’re here, so I’m going to assume the funeral worked.
“It did,” I admitted, shaking my head as the tears tried forming once more.
Samuel nodded, putting a little of the green balm on the inside of the eye patch as he continued, “The Lady knows about the church, that’s going to be a little bit of a mess. Abandoned, that’s good, but still not exactly a place you can easily remove that much…whatever that mold is. She has a few teams down in the basement with acid and barrels, lots of hazmat as I understand it, trying to figure out if those bootleg tunnels open up anywhere better while scraping everything. All honesty, I think if they do she’s going to be making some real estate investments.”
“I don’t really care,” I muttered, seeing the man cringe a little at the words.
He waited a moment, holding up the eye patch as he asked, “do you mind?” before I nodded and he started to play with my hair.
Running his fingers through it, obviously trying to detangle and shape it a little, he kept working it as I asked, “is Sigyn okay?”
“The spell was already ongoing, and…” he stopped, completely freezing before he told me, “a spell like that would need to be stopped by a witch, and I think it’s better if she forgets.”
I nodded, my throat frozen as the man slowly slid the eye patch in place, going about buckling it in place behind my head. He was adjusting my hair over it as I asked, “why do I keep feeling like shit?”
“You just lost someone you care bout.”
“I mean every fucking time,” I snapped, turning to face him, tears slowly flowing down my cheeks, “I’ve helped stop a bunch of shit, with Misha and now on my own, and I barely remember any of it. I never…just once I want to finish something and feel like I did a good job, you know? Feel like I did something to feel good about and remember.”
“You expect there to be a happy ending,” Samuel said, his fingers brushing the tears off my left cheek as he stepped a little closer, “you…you want there to be a happy ending, and even when you do the best you can it’s not as happy as you want.”
I leaned into his hand, anything for a bit of pretty right now, feeling like I was going to throw up as I told him, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“You’re expected for lunch tomorrow with The Lady, she’s arranged a meeting,” Samuel said, frowning as he added on, “for now though I made arrangements for you. You up for a car ride?”
“Not really,” I muttered with a shake of my head, even as Samuel pulled me towards the door.
“Don’t worry, I think you’re going to like this one,” the man answered, and I limply allowed myself to be pulled along.
Pulled along into his car, the man started driving to a destination he refused to talk about, even as he sent a text before we left. Along old roads, onto once familiar ones, and I had the sudden fear I knew where he was going before he suddenly stopped on the side of the road. A few hundred feet from my dad’s home, I felt my entire body shaking even as he sat back and offered me a box of cigarettes.
Lighting one with the cigarette lighter in his car, I shifted awkwardly in my spot and smoked until someone came walking down the road. Not sure who it was at first, I felt ready to panic before I finally recognized Percy.
My old friend climbed into the passenger seat, letting out a small noise of disgust at something before asking, “sure you want to be out this soon?”
“I’m not even sure what we’re doing,” I admitted, sighing as I let a cloud of smoke out the window.
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“Trust me, I think this is going to help,” Samuel admitted, carefully turning his car on the road as he drove off without another word.
Once more he refused to answer any questions of where we were going, and Percy kept his window open and head half-out as he asked, “did it work?”
“Yes,” I answered, feeling tears once more trying to form at the thought.
“Your dad asked me to come to the meeting tomorrow,” Percy added on, confirming a little of what was happening there at least. Shaking his head a moment, he added on, “I…I told him I had some stuff, couldn’t be missed, from what I heard it’s best I’m not there.”
“Thank you,” I agreed, nodding a few times before asking, “did you…any trouble with stealing the book and being out late?”
“I told him I realized I forgot to do some errands, he was asleep by the time I got back,” Percy explained, sounding almost a little hesitant about it, “I snuck the book back in the safe this morning, your dad and Leila were talking all morning about The Lady’s assistant coming by…does she have like, a calligrapher or something? It was like, a wedding looking invite by the way, really fancy paper and looked handwritten, what’s going on there?”
“She keeps one on retainer,” Samuel agreed with a small nod, “I finally convinced her to stop hiring scribes to follow her around about ten years ago.”
“You’re fucking with us,” I guessed, shaking my head as I watched out the window as best I could.
“Misha’s mentor did it a couple decades before then, as I understand,” Samuel agreed, getting a small laugh from Percy.
Not much later and we came to the junkyard Samuel had brought me to almost a week ago now, and he yelled to a stop with a sigh. The afternoon sky settling over the abandoned cars, the silence of machines being done, it was rather peaceful.
It was confusing as well as I asked, “what the fuck are we doing here?”
“There were only two things I thought the Purists had right, and that was some of their ways for relieving stress and their gods,” Samuel explained, seeming almost proud as he told me, “you two walk on ahead, the owner will explain the rest. I’m going to go get some pizzas and plenty of drinks and will be back in a little bit.”
I nodded, slowly climbing out as Percy did the same and Samuel drove off leaving us behind. Looking at the half-one beside me in confusion I started to walk with him down the path I’d taken a little before and asked, “how did you get dragged into this?”
“Man slipped me his business card when he teamed you up with me, I called and explained what happened. He sent that hot blonde to give me a ride home — I did not land their number. Your dad thinks I had an accident and my truck’s in the shop,” Percy admitted, chuckling sadly a moment at that, “Samuel said he was going to make some arrangements for you for tonight. Thought it’d be a good way to keep you out of the house and cheer you up a little.”
“Not sure it’s going to work,” I muttered, seeing Percy look a little disappointed at that.
“Well, I like the eye patch if that’s a compliment worth anything,” he admitted, clearing his throat with a shrug, “and, you know, if you’re needing anything the next few weeks I can be there. Always like being a help to my friends, um, Marie? Fuck, sorry, slipped my head.”
“Mary, like cherry,” I corrected, remembering Calliope’s little rhyme.
“Mary, like cherry,” Percy confirmed, repeating it a couple times.
“I think I’ll be fine alone for a few days,” I lied, knowing it’d certainly be a little bit of rotting on my part, “if… Wednesday gives me a few days to get used to things. You want to come over and watch a few movies for old times sake? Not sure I’d be welcome back home, so it seems safer that way, long as you don’t mind the smell.”
“Sure, I’m working until five then but I can come over after. You still like horror movies?” he asked, chuckling at the thought, “I like a lot of really over the top shitty ones, but we can keep to the oldies but goodies if you want.”
“Trust me, I like some fucked up ones,” I admitted, needing to laugh a bit at the idea I’d have problems with a horror movie, “ever seen Martyrs?”
“Oh, that’s a fucking classic, 2008 right?”
“Oh there’s another?” I asked, getting my hopes up a little.
“A 2015 remake, I don’t like it as much though,” Percy admitted quickly, furrowing his brow as he asked, “oh wait, have you ever seen The New York Ripper? Not New French Extremism, but if you’re looking for a shitty horror movie full of blood and gore you can’t go wrong.”
“Is it good?”
“It’s terrible,” Percy warned, his smile never breaking as he added on, “I have a bootleg version, has the English dubbing from the US version on most of the scenes but no censorship.”
“Finish it off with Blair Witch for old times sake?” I asked, getting a small smirk despite myself at the thought, “if you think you can watch it without freaking this time.”
“Hey, I hid under a blanket for the ending, you were the one who slept with a knife in your sleeping bag when we went camping,” the man countered, even as we finally reached the clearing I had been in a week ago.
Now with six cars in a circle, the old mechanic from before stood against one sipping a flask as he walked over to us. A table still laid out nearby, now with a gathering of tools and the across it. My brow furrowed only a minute, and I scanned the area even as the man told us, “Samuel already arranged everything, and I postponed these cars getting salvaged by us for a day, batteries are taken out and alarms won’t be a problem. Tools on the table, I can’t make you use the safety equipment provided but I recommend it because it’s your own damn problem if you get hurt. I’m leaving now, whatever happens here is up to you.”
“What, are we supposed to destroy the cars?” I asked, not sure I was getting it.
The man stared me down a long moment, a blank look of disappointment as he took a sip of his flask as he explained, “ma’am, do you know why I make forty an hour at this job, with full coverage on my benefits? It’s because I know what I do, and what I do is whatever that Carmilla wannabe and her workers tell me to do, and I ignore anything else. I hear a little screaming at night or from a car, I turn up my music. I get told to take apart a car with some blood in it, I spray it down with bleach and get it crushed. I get told to set aside some salvage, lay out some tools, and leave a little early and clock my hours like I was here? I tell the wife I’m coming home, getting a shower, and we're getting dinner at her favorite restaurant, and to see if the kids and grandkids want to join us. In other words, what transpires between you and these cars is not any of my business until I have some worker scrape up the parks and take out whatever can still get used.”
The man didn’t wait for me to answer, merely pushing past us as he walked down the path out giving a small whistle. We watched after him, and stood there in confusion for a long time until I walked to the table.
There, looking over the various items there, I picked up a pair of gloves and goggles and asked, “is this supposed to help me?”
“No idea,” Percy admitted, even as he put on a face mask, goggles, and started slipping on the gloves, “but, we’re kinda stranded here until your guy gets back, so I don’t think we can do much else.”
I nodded in agreement, frowning as I hesitantly put on the items myself, more for blending in with Percy than actually needing them. Picking up a sledgehammer off the table, while Percy seemed to be appreciating axes and pickaxes, I told him, “I get the first swing.”
Walking to the nearest car I prepared myself, trying to remember being taught to use a axe and bracing myself the same way. Throwing my full weight forward with it I slammed the hammer down, stumbled, and nearly fell as Percy laughed and walked over to me.
I’d barely left a dent on the hood, and he shook his head as he held up his axe and told me, “do it like this, keep your feet planted a little farther apart. You just need to slide your hand down in the swing, see?”
I nodded, frowning as I took another swing and, almost feeling guilty for it, let out a small laugh as the hood dented under the blow. Percy gave me a thumbs up and I decided to take part in something I used to love doing: breaking glass.
Changing my position I didn’t even take aim, swinging the hammer down hard on the windshield. I caught the edge of the hood, and the hammer twisted in a grip I forced tight as the windshield cracked under the roll. A few curses came out, and with a bit of anger behind it I took another blind swing, this one slamming through the windshield almost too easily.
The hammer went through like the glass wasn’t there, and I was thrown forward before I forcibly pulled backwards. The hammer came free with a crashing of glass, and I fell hard back against the ground with a cry of frustration.
Percy ran beside me, laughing even as he asked if I was okay, and I let out a giggle that turned into a full laugh as he helped pull me to my feet. I shook my head, trying to keep the laughter contained, and stumbled to the table as I told Percy, “you know what, let’s see if an axe works better.”
