A1: Ogre (Part 4)
Chapter 4 of CAIN: X0643
Perhaps the most crucial item in a Category 1 Exorcist’s kit is the Last Nail. In most cases, at least one Exorcist on a given assignment will carry one of these on their person. This six cm. iron spike is infused with a potent concentration of psychic energy engineered specifically to permanently exorcise a weakened Sin through the host bond.
-“Field Kit,” CAIN Handbook X, p. 32
Next Chapter
Vo sighed and walked with Monty and Howe toward the wall of flesh. The red, wet doorway gaped at the Exorcists, and they strode into the psychic portal. The walls of flesh and saltwater pulsed and throbbed as they ventured through the hallway towards the light at its end. Occasional limbs from the wall reached out towards the Exorcists, grabbing at their clothes and leaving spots soaked with saltwater, but their grip was tenuous, weak, letting the Exorcists pass through almost unimpeded.
The tunnel’s end came into view, and a wave of melancholy swept over Vo’s mind.
“I think we’re in,” Howe said.
The Exorcists exited the fleshy hallway to find themselves in the same room they just left, albeit with different lighting. Vo was used to seeing everything in a white-grey tint thanks to the fog, but now the shattered masonry and steel of the room was illuminated with a bluish hue.
“Oh, wow,” Monty said quietly. He had gone to the window at the end of the room, and was looking out of it at something out of Vo’s sight. The usually stoic Exorcist looked shocked, an expression that Vo had never seen on his face.
Vo joined Monty at the window to see the fog completely cleared, leaving a landscape of marshland and grey stone surrounding the cannery. A lighthouse dominated the view a short distance away. It jutted out from stone, a large cylinder of white brick with a lamp on its top that cast a blue light across the world.
“That… was not supposed to be that close, was it?” Howe asked. He hopped up onto the large windowsill, crouching like a hawk as he observed the lighthouse.
“Never measure space in a Palace,” Monty muttered, still staring at the lighthouse. “You’ll just get a headache.”
“Let’s check it out,” Vo said. He peered over the lip of the broken window, finding a pile of rubble underneath that formed a makeshift ramp. Vo led the way, vaulting out the window and climbing down to ground level on the shifting rubble. The lighthouse sat at a strange distance, looking simultaneously close yet also on the far horizon, like a massive optical illusion. Its bottom was obscured by shrubs and boulders, and its lamp strobed with that vibrant blue light, sending rotating spotlight beams spinning across the sky.
The Exorcists drew their service weapons and set off at a brisk pace towards the lighthouse. The terrain shifted quickly to stone that clicked loudly under their feet.
“Not a lot of cover on this road,” Howe said. “We should be able to see the Sin coming if it shows up.” They walked slightly uphill towards the lighthouse, which they could now see sat at the edge of a distant cliff.
“Wayne could be in here with us,” Monty said. “We’ll need him to complete the exorcism.”
“I’d bet Wayne or the Sin is in that thing,” Vo said, pointing at the lighthouse. “Maybe both, if we’re lucky.”
“Is that lucky? Sounds like extra trouble to me,” Monty said. “Hey, wait a second.” He stopped, and soon all three of them were standing on the stone, looking at the lighthouse. “Does it look like we’re any closer?”
Now that Monty pointed it out, Vo realized Monty was right. He turned back to look at the cannery. That was definitely further away, about appropriate for the time they’d jogged. But when Vo turned back to the lighthouse, it looked like no distance at all had been covered since the cannery.
Howe sprinted down the road, and Vo watched the Exorcist make good distance before he turned back to Vo and Monty.
“Any closer?” Vo called.
Howe just shook his head.
“Let me check the map and see if there’s another way around,” Monty said. Vo watched as his eyes glazed over, entering his own Palace while within the Sin’s. The Palace user stood there, twitching slightly as he roamed his own mind-space.
“Vo?” Howe called. “Hey, Vo!”
Vo turned away from Monty to see Howe pointing frantically at the lighthouse. Its white brick walls were cracking in vertical lines near its bottom, like seams ripping open. Inside the cracks, dark shapes stirred.
“Oh, fuck,” Vo muttered. A crack split the air, and a massive hand tore free from a seam in the brick. It was grey and bloated, leaking water like all the traces they had seen. Wet fingers reached for a sun that didn’t exist in the Palace, basking instead in the blue glow of the lighthouse lamp.
“Monty. Monty, you gotta come back out here,” Howe was now shaking Monty, whose eyes were still glazed over. Howe cursed and grumbled under his breath, ducking down to throw Monty over his shoulder. Together, Howe and Vo started backing up towards the cannery.
Four more arms and legs tore free of the lighthouse’s bottom, giving the thing five mismatched, bloated limbs that ripped the building out of the ground with a cacophony of crunching stone and falling dirt. Vo joined Howe in a panicked run, and of course the fucking lighthouse started to run too, rumbling the earth beneath them with every step.
Monty finally woke up and immediately tried to scramble out of Howe’s grasp, which held firm while Monty turned back and saw the lighthouse running towards them on all five limbs.
“Shit! Let me down, I can run!” Monty yelled. Howe obliged, shifting his weight expertly to allow Monty to catch himself in a run, keeping pace with them. “Is that the Sin?” Monty shouted.
“I would think so!” Vo yelled back. The lighthouse was starting to close the gap as the Exorcists were approaching the cannery.
“Distract it for a minute!” Howe said, maintaining his mad dash into the cannery.
“How the f–” Monty said, squaring himself against the lighthouse with Vo at his side. The thing continued running even as the two Exorcists faced it from right in front of the large cannery. When it got close, Vo dashed the opposite way from Monty, and the Sin scrambled to stop, too slow.
The lighthouse crashed into the cannery, sending brick shards spraying in every direction like shrapnel. Vo held an arm up against the shower of debris as he dodged the Sin’s flailing limbs, running, jumping and rolling around the thing. One stomp landed far too close to Vo, the impact hard enough to send the chunk of ground he stood on up into the air. Vo shouted in surprise, and in a flash, a second limb grabbed hold of him, lifting him high up into the air.
“We know what happened!” Monty yelled at the lighthouse. Vo could see him below, dancing between the thing’s limbs on the other side. The hand around Vo squeezed him hard enough to make his ribs protest, then made as if to throw Vo over its head. “We know the boat accident was your fault, Wayne!” Monty shouted with both hands cupped around his mouth.
The impact of Monty’s accusation hit the Sin with physical and psychic force, and Vo felt the thing’s strength falter for a moment as it threw him. It was still powerful enough to send him flying, but he saw the top railing of the lighthouse zip past his head, and he reached out in desperation. Vo’s hand slapped onto the railing and he almost jerked to a stop in mid-air, feeling his gunshot wound from Hank tear open as his shoulder was nearly wrenched from its socket. His momentum caused him to swing down and slam into the top platform of the lighthouse with a groan of pain.
Vo dragged himself up to his feet and into the deep blue radiance of the Sin’s lamp. He saw Monty using his shovel to shatter bricks at the Sin’s limbs like a baseball player striking shotgun shells, his green psychic energy infusing every shard of masonry that he sent the Sin’s way.
Vo turned back to the lamp and wasted no time in unloading an entire magazine of his handgun into the thing’s glass container, leaving barely a scratch on its glossy surface. He reloaded, favoring his hurt off-hand and glancing down to check that Monty was still alive.
“Coming in!” At the sound of Howe’s voice, Vo’s gaze was pulled from the ground to the second floor of the cannery.
A window shattered as Howe flew out of the frame like a bullet. The small Exorcist uncurled in the air, one arm cocked back with his brass knuckles adorning his fist. The Sin either didn’t care or couldn’t see Howe barreling through the air towards it, but as he got close he let his punch fly with all of the impressive power he could muster from his body. Translucent psychic pulses rippled out from Howe’s fist on impact, making the strike so powerful that Vo suddenly lost his footing as the Sin took several stumbling steps backwards.
Vo had to drop his gun to barely catch himself on the railing with his unhurt arm. He tried to catch the gun with a foot, but it rattled off the edge of the platform, passing right through a gap in the railing. Vo watched his gun tumble to the ground below, and saw that where Howe had struck the Sin, a huge section of the lighthouse’s middle was ripped open, revealing a fleshy, wet interior.
The lighthouse’s insides started to vibrate and undulate, and traces began to pull themselves free of the tangled flesh. Vo watched, helpless from his vantage, as the water-bloated bodies hit the ground with sickening sounds. Monty and Howe were forced to shift to handling the traces as they continued dodging the Sin’s limbs.
Vo groaned as he stared down the side of the lighthouse at its pulsing insides a good few meters below him. The best he could do to help was get a blast into the thing’s insides—with no gear, no weapon, and no backup. As if on cue, the Shadow showed itself to his side, looking down at the Sin’s wound before turning towards Vo as if to remind him that he could use it. The handgun was lost, invisible in the chaos of the fight on the ground. Vo turned back to the Shadow, floating there next to him, with that grin plastered across a face that shone in stark-white definition despite the blue lamp shining next to it.
Vo squinted warily at the Shadow. Maybe there was a way to get that blast inside the lighthouse. Vo’d had a few moments to breathe since his near-overload in the marsh, so his psyche wasn’t on the knife’s edge anymore. Still, he felt his chest tighten at the idea of using the Shadow so directly.
“Just stay the fuck out of my head,” Vo said quietly.
Vo trickled psychic energy through the bond he shared with the Shadow. Immediately, its outline became sharper, more real. The blue light of the Sin’s lamp began to reflect off of the Shadow’s face, but the sword remained unseen.
Vo stumbled and grabbed hold of the platform’s railing as the Sin leapt and crashed back down to the ground. A quick glance told Vo that his team members were still fighting below. He poured more psyche into the Shadow, and it seemed to grow fuller, inflating its already sizable frame. The sword materialized in its hands, its blade of flowing metal and chitin reflecting the blue light with a sheen that sent a shiver down Vo’s spine.
Vo breathed deeply to calm himself. His team was still fighting below—they needed him focused, they needed him to drop this towering beast of a lighthouse. Vo looked over the edge of the railing, gauging the distance between him and the hole in the Sin’s side. The Shadow always got weaker the further it got from him; even if it had supped on a considerable amount of Vo’s psyche, the closer he could get himself to the weak spot, the better.
The way Vo saw it, that left about one option for him.
Vo stepped back, then ran for the railing and flung himself over it, plummeting down into open air. Wind rushed past Vo, billowing his jacket like a parachute for a split-second before he clenched his fist and threw a punch into the air towards the hole in the Sin. The Shadow swept around him as a white blur, its sword flashing as it struck for the beating flesh of the Sin’s insides. The Shadow’s sword plunged into the flesh with a squelch, and an explosion of Vo’s own psychic energy erupted from the Shadow’s sword. The black wave of force slammed into Vo, sending him tumbling away from the lighthouse.
The ground rushed up to meet Vo, and he tucked himself and rolled into the fall as best he could, ultimately rolling and slamming into a boulder hard enough to send stars dancing in his vision. Above him, the Sin groaned like a wounded animal–the hole that Howe had made was now hollow and empty, Vo’s attack with the Shadow having blasted away the things innards. The Sin wobbled for a moment as the whole Palace realm fell silent. The water-logged traces slowly fell to the ground one-by-one.
With a final rumbling moan that shook the fabric of the Palaces’ reality, the Sin teetered over. It tipped towards Vo, who was still curled against the rubble, too hurt and tired to move. He shut his eyes and cringed, blinding himself to the Palace around him but unfortunately unable to numb his own pain, which throbbed in his shoulder, his gut, his head, and just about everywhere else. The lighthouse crashed to the ground with a deafening sound, close enough to spray shards of stone against Vo’s exposed skin.
“You need help?”
Vo opened his eyes to see Howe standing atop a mess of lighthouse bricks, a hand outstretched towards Vo. Monty was stooped over behind Howe, searching through the mound of white bricks that made up the Sin moments ago. The lamp sat nearby, its blue light slowly fading, returning the sky to a dark grey.
Vo took Howe’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled and held up by his team member. “Thanks,” Vo muttered.
“Don’t mention it,” Howe said. “That floating sword earlier–that you?”
“Yeah,” Vo said. Around them, the Palace was freezing like a paused recording. Dust sat in the air, supported by wind that had stopped blowing. The strobe of the blue lamp paused in motion, casting a fading blue spotlight straight up into the grey sky.
Atop the remnants of the Sin, Monty grunted triumphantly, gripping something deep in the mound of bricks. He tugged free a man wearing dirty overalls that struggled to contain a rather impressive beer belly. The man–Wayne, by Vo’s estimation–was crying.
“It’s my fault,” Wayne muttered, curled up on the bricks at Monty’s feet.
Monty’s face curled in disgust as he looked down at Wayne. He patted at his pockets, then glanced back at Vo and Howe, alarm flashing across the disdain on his face. “Either of you have a Last Nail?” he raised an eyebrow while asking, placing a foot on Wayne’s leg, even though the man made no attempt to move or fight.
Vo and Howe checked their own pockets, both coming up empty.
Monty threw his hands up in exasperation. “What do you mean neither of you have a Last Nail? One of us has to have had one, yeah?” Beneath him, Wayne continued to cry. The host of the Sin grabbed randomly at shards of brick and stone, repeatedly gripping them in his hands hard enough to draw blood before letting go and allowing them to clatter back to the ground.
“We must have lost it,” Vo said, his voice weak now. “When we were separated, or maybe while fighting.”
“So what do we do?” Howe said. They could still carry out the exorcism, but without a Last Nail, they all knew there was a risk of a recurring Sin event.
“Well, we can’t just go back and check through all this–” Monty gestured at the rubble of the lighthouse and cannery surrounding them. “Or go back to the bar, now can we?”
“It’s my fault,” Wayne repeated again. Monty suddenly bent down to grab one of the straps on Wayne’s overalls, and forcibly turned the man over. Wayne seemed now to see the three Exorcists for the first time, and his eyes widened in shock. His lip quivered as he looked around at the unnaturally paused landscape around them. “Wh–where am I? Who are you?” Wayne stammered.
Monty pulled Wayne’s face in close. “Shut. Up,” Monty said, then roughly dropped the man back onto the bricks. “Fuck!” Monty shouted into the sky. He grabbed his shovel from his waist and unfolded it with a powerful flick of his arm. He looked more angry than disgusted now, casting a glare at Vo and Howe. Before they could say anything, Monty’s shovel glowed with green psychic energy, and he swung it down and through towards Wayne’s neck.
Instantly, the sky cracked, massive rifts criss-crossing the clouds and extending down to the ground like frozen lightning. The rubble on the ground started to shake, and a low groan filled Vo’s ears. Through the rifts in the air, Vo could make out the white and grey fog of the real world. Monty straightened, the green glow on his shovel fading to reveal thick red blood. A single drop trickled off its blade and fell to his side. Before the drop could reach the white brick below, the Palace completed its collapse–the sky and ground sucking inwards in a vortex centered at Monty’s feet. In less than a second, the Sin’s white bricks were gone, the blue lamp disappeared, and the Exorcists found themselves in front of the fish cannery, surrounded by swirling white fog.
Wayne’s body remained at Monty’s feet, the head a short distance away.
The sound of a helicopter’s blades approached from the distance–their exfiltration, undoubtedly. Vo was very glad to hear it, as the rush of combat was starting to die down in his veins, and he felt his eyelids getting heavy even as the pain in his body got worse.
Monty wiped his shovel clean on his trousers, then hooked it back onto his belt. He stomped over to where Vo and Howe stood. “For the record,” Monty began. “This is all of our faults.”
The helicopter hovered above them, and an Untouchable team rappelled down, sweeping rifles and submachine guns all around in the fog. They ignored the Exorcists except to hand them ropes and clips with which to winch themselves up into the helicopter.
As Vo ascended, he watched a trio of Untouchables preparing Wayne’s body for transport. One grabbed the head, unceremoniously throwing it onto the body as they loaded it onto a stretcher. Vo heard one of the Untouchables say “No Last Nail–” into a radio before ascending past earshot. As Vo reached the floating helicopter, Howe helped pull him into a seat as his vision faded fully to black.
The Shadow’s smile filled Vo’s sleep.
On-Site, Locus C387
Cell Phone (non-internet access model)
Comfortable Shoes (Size M10)
Tailored Suit(s)–(five suits delivered to dormitory)
Total scrip spent: 5
-Requisition receipt for X0643, fulfilled 11/26/2023.
Vo walked to the canteen wearing a uniform that fit him far better than his old one, with, for the first time in years, shoes that hugged his feet comfortably. The clothing made all the difference; Vo walked with his head higher, his stride far more confident with the fitted dress shoes he wore. He passed by occasional Exorcists and other staff members he vaguely recognized, but he hadn’t seen Monty or Howe since their debrief.
It had been over a week since their first assignment, and Vo and the others were finally released from probationary status. CAIN had been monitoring the assignment site and Wayne’s body, and had deemed the risk of Sin recurrence acceptably negligible.
The canteen was about half full when Vo entered. Black uniforms sprinkled the concrete and white linoleum room like day-old stubble, with a rare few Exorcists with casual-wear permissions acting as small splashes of color. He punched his XID into the number pad at the counter and retrieved a tray of food, which for tonight was a bowl of rice and grain porridge with a patty of ground meat atop it. Vo scanned the canteen for an empty table, but his eyes paused upon Monty and Howe sitting together. They ate without speaking.
Vo approached the pair’s table and set his tray down. “Hey,” he said.
Monty and Howe echoed the greeting. Vo joined them in sitting and began digging into his food. The porridge was overcooked and soggy, and the meat patty did very little to contrast the goopy texture. Nevertheless, Vo diligently ate, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth.
“Hey, you two,” Monty said, wiping his mouth and dropping his spoon into his empty bowl. The lanky Exorcist had bags under his eyes, making his already intense gaze look colder, more empty. “I didn’t mean to be an asshole at the end of our assignment.”
Vo shrugged and Howe opened his mouth to respond, but Monty cut him off.
“But that is not happening again. I don’t care if all three of us have to pack a Last Nail in our back pockets, we are not fumbling another exorcism like that, alright?” Monty said, jabbing a finger into the table to accentuate every other word.
“Sure,” Vo said. “So you both heard the news then?”
“Yeah,” Howe said. “I guess we didn’t mess it up badly enough for them to say we’re a bad team, right?” Monty shot Howe a disapproving look. “That was sarcasm, Monty. We’re Category 2 now, we’re allowed to use it,” Howe cracked a smile.
“Sure, whatever,” Monty said. He stood up and grabbed his tray, nodding to Howe and Vo in turn. “I still have to get my requisition form in before our next assignment. I’ll see you two then.”
“See you,” Howe offered Monty a small wave before turning back to Vo. Howe had already finished his food, but he made no move to get up. “So about that sword…”
“What about it?” Vo asked. He could feel his Shadow behind him, but did not turn around.
“The obvious question would be ‘why didn’t you open with the giant flying sword,’ but I’m guessing you’ve got a reason for that,” Howe said simply.
“It’s Shadow stuff,” Vo said. “I don’t like using it too much.”
“You ‘don’t like it?’” Howe asked. “It’s a Blasphemy, man. Same as all of us Exorcists. We need to use everything at our disposal for the job. Otherwise, who knows? Maybe Monty’ll yell at us again,” Howe chuckled.
“Whisper Exorcists have it a little different,” Vo said. “Have you ever overloaded your psyche, Howe?”
Howe shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve had to.”
“I came really damn close when we got separated, and almost again at the end, with the Sin,” Vo said. “I don’t doubt you know the risks of overloading, Howe, but when I got pushed to that limit, I heard it talking. And I don’t like its voice.”
“I see,” Howe nodded. He chewed on his cheek for a moment, and Vo looked into his eyes, waiting for more. “I didn’t know those details on Whisper business. But we’ve still got a job to do, right?” Howe stood up now, clasping a firm hand on Vo’s shoulder. Vo was reminded that despite his small stature, Howe was probably a decade older than him.
Vo chuckled drily. “Until the stain is wiped away, right?” Vo said.
Howe nodded, a light smile on his lips.
Some time after dinner, a knock sounded at Vo’s door.
“Assignment tomorrow. Be ready.”
Vo shot up in his bed, stirred by the voice from a state of near-slumber. He didn’t remember when he’d gone to bed, but he also rarely had specific memories of doing so. With his days so full of training and studying, it felt like he barely had the energy to think about sleeping before he found himself waking up the next morning.
Despite the fogginess in his head, Vo got up from his bed and prepared his things. He hung one of his new suit jackets on his chair–he was already wearing the shirt and trousers–and opened his drawer. He put up his handgun and new flip phone on the desk, sparing only a glance at the knife in the back of the drawer before shutting it. One–or hopefully all, after last assignment–of the Exorcists would arrive on-site with a Last Nail in their kit. Vo was sure that Monty would have them check for it first thing.
With his preparations done, Vo climbed back into his bed. He looked to his side, where the Shadow floated. Vo almost wanted to open his mouth and talk to it, to tell it once again to stay out, to tell it that it was a leech, a psychic parasite that wasn’t real and couldn’t exist without him. More than anything, he wanted to tell it that he didn’t need it.
But Vo kept his mouth shut–because as much as he hated it, he wasn’t sure that was true.
Assignment 2 coming soon!