27 - Laura 08 - The Fucking Fuck...

  The door closed behind them, presenting them once again with the short passage that lead to the stairs. The Lady Szarka stopped, as Laura stumbled and put her hand on the wall.
  “What the fucking fuck. What the fucking fuck *fuck*…”. She stammered and swore, as almost as pale as the white king herself, she tried to catch her breath.
  “Calm yourself, dear.” The Lady said, with a veneer that could have been mistaken for actual compassion. “You are made of sterner stuff than this.”
  “… the fuck have I gotten into? What have *you* gotten me into?!” Laura replied, barely in control of her breathing.
  “Hmm? Well, that’s hardly a fair tone to take.” She said quietly, the contempt in her voice clear. “You have said it yourself. The world is a terrible place. People are terrible. People are horrible. People are monsters. What you have not realized until this moment, is that there are *also* monsters out there.” She turned to face Laura. “But what you fail to see, Elle…. Is that People are still worse monsters, than the monsters. Take the encounter that lead to us being here now. Yes. You were assaulted by monsters. But *those* monsters just wanted to kill you. Eat you. Nothing more than that.” She mg arrived her eyes. “Can you honestly say you believe any humans in that situation would have had a straightforward of an intent?”
  Laura angrily narrowed her eyes in response, but her recovering breathing didn’t let her reply immediately.
  Lady Szarka continued anyway. “*I* have done nothing but open your eyes to the world as it is, and done my best to *arm and prepare* you for the Horrors within it. But make no mistake, Elle… Humanity are still the worst of all of the breeds. Come, we shall introduce you to the Mortician, and he will be better positioned to answer your questions.”
  And the lady stepped up the stairs. “Follow closely, you are still being watched.”
  —
  They left the apartment building. The sky had grown overcast and dark on the relatively short time they had been underground.
  There was no cab waiting, and Laura looked to the Lady, who seemed just to be waiting for her to catch up, before strolling down the street. Laura skittered to her side and tried to keep up.
  “Face forward. Head high. Just follow me. I am well known here, but it will take some time for knowledge of your status to filter to the masses. Until then, keep Malice close.” The lady said quietly, looking straight forward as she walked. “The ghoul families keep primarily to Kingsland, and they tend by nature to be more active at night. Now, we call them Ghouls in passing, but as far as I understand, there are several subgroups and species that all tend to keep to their own buildings. But they all have one thing in common.”
  “They’re flesh eaters, I take it.”
  “Yes. They exist with a need or a desire to consume raw flesh. They have strict rules, based on ancient agreements, on what and who can be predated upon. And those who procreate through predation have their own further rules.”
  “I don’t get it.”
  “Some ghouls transform their victims into further ghouls. Some ghouls are a bloodline that procreate in a more typical way. The whole gamut of ghoul dom runs from those who must feed or die, to those who simply prefer their steaks on the rawer side of things. Kingsland is more home to those who have… the more uncontrollable urges. Which is why the attack on you was a disgrace.”
  “It was outside of their hunting grounds.”
  “Very much so. You will find, that the city is crisscrossed with treaties, zones of control, neutral lands, and no man’s zones. All the while, leaving the city’s human population blissfully unaware.”
  “And it’s like this everywhere?”
  “Somewhat. It’s more pronounced here, due to the nature of this city itself. Other nations tend to… fall into the category of their own old orders. Here, things exist to keep things relatively safe.”
  “Relatively.” Laura snarled.
  “Yes. Relatively.” The lady replied grimly.
  The walk was almost 30 minutes, before they arrived at what Laura considered to be the most decrepit Police station she had ever seen. Yet even so, it’s half faded and flickering lights were a beacon amongst the darkness. Perhaps it’s most disturbing feature, was the attached flat brick building with large chimney stack… Ominously like a hospital.
  She followed the lady inside, where, frankly, the inside matched the outside In sheer disgust.
  There was a very haggard looking uniformed officer at the desk. “Can I help you?” He droned almost monotonously.
  “Lady Szarka to see the Mortician.”
  “Do you have an appointment?”
  “We have permission. This was rather sudden.”
  “Take a seat.” He indicated with a wave of his hand, before he turned slightly and picked up the phone. He talked quietly, below earshot, but his eyes never left Lady Szarka as she sat down with Laura.
  “I hate these places.” Laura finally said. “Too much time in them.”
  “I can imagine.”
  “Is it full of monsters, too?”
  “Take out your picture. See for yourself. The more practice you get seeing with it, the less you will need to.” The lady instructed, her own gaze not leaving the officer.
  Laura did so, pulling out the photo of herself, and performing the steps as instructed. Almost immediately, upon opening her eyes, she felt the sting of a headache behind them. But she grunted and persevered.
  Looking around. Absolutely *nothing* seemed out of the ordinary. What few people who shuffled in the background seemed … normal. As did, even the uniformed officer at the desk. She stared, trying to see something… but the harder she stared, the more piercing the headache became, and she was forced to reverse the procedure after a few minutes.
  “And what did you see?” Lady Szarka finally spoke as Laura out the picture away. “Nothing.”
  “See, full of monsters. The worst kind of Monsters. Human Police, on the take. Specifically, on the White Kings take. Even if they do not know it, they’re all slaves to it. The worst kind of monsters - the passionately ignorant.”
  As she finished her quiet insults, the uniformed officer behind the counter put down the phone and addressed them.
  “Your request is authorized. However, the mortician is… in session at the moment. You said this was sudden, is it urgent enough to interrupt? He should not be more than half an hour based on his schedule.”
  “No, no. That is fine. We can wait a period of time.”
  The officer nodded, clearly more aware and … even courteous, now that Lady Szarkas status was confirmed. Or at least their permission was. Clearly, part of his job was to weed out those who were not to be. He pointed. “Water and coffee just die the hall of need be. I’ll let you know when he’s free.”
  —-
  It was closer to 45 minutes before they were finally able to go back. The officer lead them through a stark corridor out of the station and into the attached building, which, much to Laura’s dismay, was exactly as she thought… A run down clinic/morgue. Creepily, every step echoed through the corridor in different beats as they strolled.
  They came upon an unmanned desk and a door, which held the simple nameplate “Mortician”.
  As the officer gestures, the two of them Stepped inside.
  With the door closed behind them, they saw the high backed chair before them was facing away. “Mortician.” Lady Szarka greeted with a polite smile. “Thank you for seeing us on short notice.”
  What Laura was not prepared for, was Lady Szarkas reaction as the chair turned.
  Sitting in it, was a younger than middle aged man. He had glasses and a clipped goatee beard, which did well to make him look much older than he likely was. His only other distinguishing feature, was a pendant around his neck, that at distance was too far to make out details, but seemed to shine like a mirror.
  “Lady Szarka.” He said, as he placed the book that was on his lap on the desk before him. “I was wondering if we’d meet in my lifetime. My predecessor kept some… interesting notes.”
  “Your predecessor.” Lady Szarka said cautiously, clearly off guard, before gathering her composure.
  “Yes. Records say you last visited 12 years ago. Mortician Thanatos was in his prime then, had not taken me on yet. I am Mortician Virgil.”
  “Twelve years?” Laura asked quietly.
  “Yes. We are fortunate that Lady Szarka does not require our services very often. If only more were as discerning as her.”
  “Virgil.” Lady Szarka mused. “Thanatos was a very dour individual. Perhaps he considers you… more poetic of nature?”
  “… so rest sssured, I know the pathway all.” He nodded. “And your Predecessor?” “Unfortunate miscalculation with a Wendigo. Occupational Hazard.” “… indeed.”
  “Don’t let my apparent *youth* deceive you, Lady Szarka. You of all people should be able to appreciate that.“
  “My, what a tongue.” She said, only half in humour. “No, I see you were named well. I will pay closer attention, in our future endeavours.” “May they be blessedly swift.” He said, sitting back in his chair. “Now, what can I do for you today?”
  “Show him, Elle.” The lady directed. Laura slowly pulled back her sleeve and unwound the gauze over her scratch.
  They were long, red and jagged. Like a cat scratch, only a dozen times larger. They had been cleaned this morning with Alcohol, but were already turning a slight sepsis green.
  “Hmm.” He nodded, leaning forward. “Yes, classic Ghul.” He said, enunciating the last word in a odd way. “Simple cleaning won’t work. Bit of a curse with those ones. But easy enough to deal with.”
  He pulled out a notepad, took a moment, and drew a symbol. It started with a circle, but ended up with crossed lines over a triangle in the middle, with lettering amongst it all.
  “Here.” He said holding it over . “Place it over the wound, wrap it back up. Wait two sunsets, then remove it and burn both it and the bandage. Bandage fresh from that point and it will heal.
  Laura looked at him, and cautiously took the paper. “What are you, some sort of wizard?”
  He snorted once, and looked at Lady Szarka, who waved a hand at him. “She’s new to the world, but I am sure one named after such a *famed* Roman Poet would explain much more eloquently.”
  He frowned at her sarcasm, but started snyway. “I’m part archivist, part coroner, part witch, and part neutral arbiter. Although if I had to pick, I’d choose the term *Magician*.” “And you…” “And what I do, is fairly simple in fact, but complicated to explain. You see, the world, and indeed the city, are crisscrossed by many ancient treaties. Treaties between fey and magic, Between human and Fae, Between magic and human, and in every such way you cane imagine. What is allowed, what is not, what is a risk to being found, what and who is safe to eat, etcetera.” “You don’t mean…” “Oh, I absolutely do. Now, don’t get me wrong… I am as human as they come, and finding out there were things out that that have to eat people exclusively was… kind of an eye opener. But frankly, those are very rare.. what’s more common is the beings who create more of themselves, either through malice interactions or feeding. That’s where my primary job is. I stop those unintended from becoming, from becoming. Whether accidental or intentional, there are many who create who are dangerous when allowed to do so, or just cannot control doing so. Guy gets bitten by a vampire and lacks the mental strength to turn as anything but a feral? We take care of it. Girl died of starvation on the street full of anger for the man who thre her out? Only got so long before a hunger spirit finds her, and we have a Wendigo loose on the streets.”
  “… that sounds real bad.”
  “It’s not great, no. But at least it’s not as bad as four years ago. Someone tried to raise an *actual* Wickerman at the Burning Man festival… Man, that was a shit show…. At least *here*, we have the, uh, agreements, in place… to help.”
  “Agreements?”
  “Police Bribes, dear. It’s not just Kingsland, but the White King is connected throughout the city, for the protection of all. His entire empire is based on it.”
  “Quite.” The Mortician said. “Is that it for today, or are you needing a pickup?”
  “Pickups- ?” Laura started, but the Lady answered.
  “Oh, nothing else today. But pickups are just why I wished to introduce you… and I have been lacking. This is Elle. She will be acting on my behalf going forward.”
  “A pleasure… Elle.” He extended a hand, even though his tone of voice implied he recognized the name as a code of sorts. “I am here to serve all, from ghoul to witch to… hag.” He said with a slight pause. Laura just barely caught Lady Szarkas flinch at ‘hag’, but she took his hand anyway. “It’s … uh… been an experience today.” She said nervously. “How do you even end up with a job like this?”
  “I read one too many books I shouldn’t have.” He mused, looking sideways at Lady Szarka again, some measure of unsaid statement between them.
  “Nevertheless.” He handed her a Card. “Call to make appointments as necessary. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get back to paperwork from this last session.”
  “Of course, Mortician Virgil.” Lady Szarka said. “The time and assistance of your post is *always* appreciated.”
  She ushered for Laura to follow as she left.
  —-
  “What was *that* about?” Laura said, as they reached the night air outside the police station. “Hmm?” Lady Szarka mused quietly. “What was what, dear.”
  “Don’t try to hide it. I’ve spent the past freaking week here on the back foot, out of my depth and confused and off put by literally fucking everything.”
  “And what am I supposed to be hiding?” Lady Szarka said with irritation.
  “That at least *twice* in there, today, *you looked as out of sorts as I did*.”
  The lady swiftly turned to Laura, a glare in her eye. She was mildly surprised as Laura held her gaze, and snorted once.
  “Insolent young brats, *both of you*.” She finally said. “But, I have to give it to you. You certainly picked that up. Yes. I was off put. I had quite a good professional relationship with Mortician Thanatos. It took me many years to build it, and not having heard of any tragedy, I was expecting to see him today. So that was off putting, yes. This one, this one seemed to have… an attitude I was not prepared for. Although I should have assumed that from the name.”
  “Virgil?”
  “Yes. This one is just history, dear. Virgil was a Roman poet, specifically the one that wrote the Aeneid. It was commissioned by the Caesar, to be somewhat of a celebratory poem. But Virgil hated him, so it became one of the most flatteringly unflattering pieces of literature one could have written.”
  “Uhhuh. I did okay in school, but I didn’t like, study ancient literature or anything.”
  The Lady nodded. “The second reference for Virgil is from Dante’s The Divine Comedy, where Dante is given a whirlwind tour of hell, purgatory and heaven. His guide for the descent is Virgil. That’s where his quote came from: he knows the pathway all.” She snorted. “That was also a less than subtle dig at me as well.”
  “Like the Hag line.”
  “You saw that too.” She raised her nose slightly. “I am a picture of noble womanly grace. Not a twisted hag.”
  “If you say so.”
  “What?”
  “Lady Szarka. Truth is, I have no goddamn fucking idea what I am doing here, who you are, what the hell is going on, or what I am supposed to do. And I’m tired. And hungry.”
  The Lady gestured with a hand. “There is a bus stop one block over. Head straight there. Call it an night. No, furthermore. Consider this. I’ve shown you the edges, and I’ve made threats, and then I’ve made vague associations of you being important, following that up by tossing you into the deep, dark underworld of the city… forgive me. Or not, it is your choice.”
  She gestured again. “Take the bus out and everything I’ve already given you. Consider where you are, and what you want. If what you want is elsewhere, walk away. I will not call on you again. But understand that, if you stay with the course I am walking, I promise you nothing less than wide eyes to the wonder of the possibilities of this world, and almost everything that I have. If that intrigues you, if that is what you may want to consider, then I will see you at the office on Tuesday, and we will go out for Coffee… Something more pleasant and friendly than everything else so far.”
  Her smile melted away, “but understand, Elle, that although I have invested significant time, favor and money in you, I will let you walk away. This is likely your last chance to walk away… For I must make alternate arrangements sooner rather than later if that is the case. Do you understand?”
  “Yeah. I think I do.”
  “Tuesday, or Never, then.”
  “Right.” Laura said once, put her hands in her pockets, and walked towards the stop, not looking back at the Lady for a second.