AN: Well, I'm back with another story… instead of updating the ones I already have…oof. This one's gonna be a bit more "supernatural" than the other ones I have up at the moment.
'Thoughts'
"Speaking out loud"
'Just a few more months and I can finally get out of this shithole.' Walter Kinsley thought to himself as he watched the Gotham City High School football team parade through the hallways.
They'd just won some big game, judging by the cheers of his classmates as they walked past. He didn't care much for football himself, but good on them for discovering something they were good at. Something they could be proud of.
Walter had tried out for the team in his freshman year, but after a terrible demonstration he was laughed off the field. That was about as far as his football career went. He wasn't quite sure what was going through his head at the time. A pudgy kid like him who'd never exercised in his life, playing football? Ha! After that he'd stuck to more academic pursuits.
'Right, as if those "academic pursuits" have gone any better.'
Walt closed his locker with a short, self-deprecating laugh. Some dude to his left stared at him weirdly, but he was long past the point of caring what others thought. It wasn't possible to live in Gotham long without developing some form of thick skin.
Walter threw on his backpack and waited for the football team to pass before he joined the crowd, following after them. He winced as someone shouted particularly loudly right by his ear, but kept quiet. The front doors were on the way to the football field, which partly explained just why the crowd was so stiflingly large.
After a few minutes of being jostled around in the crowd, Walter finally made it out. He wiped his forehead of any anxiety-induced sweat and started making his way "home". Though he was loath to call it that.
Walter was pretty much the only member of his family left alive. His mom had died during childbirth, after which his father had become an alcoholic and gotten himself killed in a drunken car accident. He had no aunts or uncles. The only family he had left was his Great-Aunt Mandy, who he'd been living with for the past 18 years. Though to call her alive was a bit of a stretch; she'd been bedridden for the past 2 years and was likely to drop dead any minute.
'She better stay alive until I leave for college, I don't want to stay in this city any longer than I have to!' Walter thought with a scowl.
Walter shook his head to dislodge his dark thoughts and looked around. It always surprised Walter just how different the city looked in the daytime. Especially now, with school having just (let out) for the week. Everyone was running around, smiling, happy to finally get home to their families and relax. From an outsider's perspective, Gotham City at that exact moment wouldn't have seemed too bad. Peaceful, even.
But if anyone bothered to look underneath all the smiling faces, they'd see just how worn out everyone was; even some of the freshmen. Living in this city was like a disease that sapped at one's vitality until they were a husk of their former selves. Small moments like these were but a short reprieve from the miserable fate everyone knew awaited them in the future.
Already, Walter had heard rumors that some of the students in his year were getting involved with gangs. Not just gangs born out of teenage rebellion, but actual criminal organizations. If the rumors were to be believed, they were even looking to recruit some of the freshmen, probably to increase the influence their "boss" had over the next generation.
So far Walter had managed to avoid recruitment attempts through sheer introversion, but he knew they would only let him avoid it for so long. In the past few weeks he'd seen an increase in the amount of meth heads hanging around his block. They already knew where he lived, so it was just a matter of time before he was approached, a moment he was not looking forward to.
Thankfully though he only had to worry about all this gang shit for a few more months, then he'd graduate, and hopefully leave this damn city behind. He'd already been accepted to a small community college on the outskirts of Metropolis. By no means was it prestigious, but it was far away from Gotham. Hopefully far enough away that the various crimelords wouldn't mind letting some random fat teenager escape from their grasp.
'Now I just gotta survive long enough to make it there.'
It was almost as if the universe decided to challenge him as Walter's walk home was suddenly interrupted by a scream.
'What the hell…'
Walter watched in slight shock as just down the road, maybe 30 meters away, multiple figures wearing deep brown robes stepped out of a black van and surrounded some girl, presumably the one who screamed. Around their necks they each wore a silver chain necklace with some sort of pendant. It was too far away to see for sure. Where the hell did these guys come from?
The girl was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform, which explained why Walter didn't recognize her.
'But what is she doing so far from her school?'
Rich kids didn't hang around these neighborhoods, and for good reason. Case in point, they might get assaulted by a bunch of psycho cultists.
Walter hid behind a garbage can, but his large stature barely fit behind it. The pungent odor of sour milk hit his nose and made him flinch in disgust. Correction, a full garbage can.
'Should I help her? I mean obviously I should do something, but I can't take on seven dudes on my own! Shit! Shit!' Walter unconsciously began to wring his hands, silently panicking.
He watched the girl try to fight back, frozen in place. She managed to kick one of the ominous hooded figures in the groin, or somewhere near it, but that still left six others. She pulled a can of pepper spray out of a small purse and managed to nail another one in the eyes, but it was knocked from her grasp before she could make much use of it. She tried fighting back as hard as she could, but the fifteen or so year old girl was quickly overpowered. Walter saw her gasp when a cultist got behind her and constricted their arm around her neck, beginning to choke her.
After a few seconds of watching and feeling his panic and self hatred increase, Walter took a deep breath and calmed down enough to pull out his cellphone and call the police. After a quick, stilted conversation with the operator, who told him to stay put and not interfere, he put it away. At the point he finished talking with the operator, he could see the girl was slowly losing consciousness, and the others were already beginning to drag her limp body away into their van.
'Oh god,' Walter thought, his panic rising again, 'if I don't do anything they're just gonna take her away! But would I even be able to help her? I don't know how to fight!'
Walter saw one of the cultists pull out a syringe and start walking towards the girl. Seeing this he made up his mind. He might have been a weak, unathletic coward, but he wasn't completely without morals. Who would he be if he just let this girl be taken away and have who knows what done to her by a group of freaky cultists?
'Goddammit! I swear to God if this is how I die I'm gonna be really fuckin mad! And so close to graduation too! Ok, now what do I say to get them to fuck off?'
"Hey! Get away from her!" Walter shouted as he stepped out from behind the garbage can he was using as cover and began to slowly jog over to the group.
'Was that really the best I could come up with? Who do I think I am, Superman?'
The cultists stopped for a second to look over at him, seemingly surprised that anyone was here to witness their attempt at kidnapping. However, Walter's appearance if anything only seemed to spur them to go faster. Before he could get close enough to intervene, the syringe was empty, it's contents already within the completely unconscious girl's bloodstream.
'Dammit!' Walter thought, angry at himself for not taking into consideration his own rather non-imposing figure. Of course they would largely ignore some hapless, chubby kid who was breaking a sweat on the short way over to them.
As he got close Walter shrugged off his backpack and flung it at one of the cultists. After he let go, he stopped for a second to gasp for air, exhausted already.
'Hopefully these heavy as hell textbooks can finally be used for something useful.'
Walter watched the backpack soar through the air, only to watch in dismay as one of the cultists just caught it and threw it to the side. The bastard even had the gall to cock his head in amusement.
'Well shit, that was pretty much my entire plan. Maybe I can distract them long enough for the police to get here?'
With that thought Walter once again began to jog towards the cultists. More specifically, the one who had caught his backpack.
Walter gave a grunt as he threw a wide haymaker.
The cultist caught his arm with ease and retaliated with a blow to Walter's sternum.
Walter staggered back and began to gasp as the wind was knocked out of him. He fell down on his knees and began to take quick, fast breaths. His eyes filled with panic as he found himself struggling to get air into his lungs.
The cultist who hit him turned back to his team, who were almost done loading the girl into the back of their van.
"What should I do with the witness?"
Another cultist, the one who was earlier hit in the groin, responded:
"Take him as well, he'll be a good spare in case something goes wrong with the ritual."
Hearing this, Walter's eyes widened. He tried to stand up and run away, but he was much too slow. The cultist who had punched him grabbed him and pushed him towards the van, where he was restrained by the others.
Walter felt the pinch of a needle going into his neck and then everything went dark.
Walter groaned as he began to awaken. His mind felt fuzzy as he tried to remember what the hell happened to him. Why was he shackled to a wall?
'Ugh, I feel like I got hit by a truck. The fuck happened?'
All of a sudden, memories of what had occurred rushed into his mind and he started to thrash around in a panic. His shackles refused to budge.
Walter ignored this and continued thrashing wildly for a few minutes, although to him it felt like hours. He finally slouched over, entirely spent after his fruitless attempt to escape.
'Fuck. Fuck. I'm gonna die. I got kidnapped by cultists, and now not only is that girl gonna die, but I'm gonna die.' His eyes widened in realisation, 'Wait! The girl! Where is she!'
Walter squinted his eyes, but the room was almost completely dark. He thought he might be able to see a vague human shape on the wall a few meters away from him, but he couldn't be certain.
"Hey," Walter whispered, his voice hoarse, "you awake?"
There was no response.
'Oh god. I should have just run. Why did I try to play hero? I'm not a hero! I could have at least told the police which direction the guys drove off in. Fuck I'm an idiot!'
Before he could continue to berate himself, he heard the sound of a door squeaking open, and a flood of light entered the room, blinding him. He blinked rapidly, his eyes aggravated beyond belief. He momentarily stopped his blinking as he heard a pair of soft voices.
"-efully the master finds our offering plentiful. We took special care in picking the most suitable sacrifice."
"Even if she's not enough, we have the spare. Hmm, speaking of..."
Walter held his breath as he saw a menacing shape start heading towards him, swathed like a wraith in dark robes. As it got closer, it eventually cleared up to be one of those hooded cultists he saw out on the street, though this one carried themselves differently, a woman? His breathing quickened involuntarily as the cultist stepped closer.
Now that the cultist was right in front of him, Walter got a closer look at the necklaces they were all wearing. Like he'd noticed before, it was a small medallion depicting the figure of a demonic looking head, with horns and six eyes. Just staring at it made him uncomfortable, it looked like it was looking right at him.
"Why is this one awake? I thought we were assured the targets would wake up just in time for the ceremony?" A distinctly feminine voice came from within the folds and shadows of the hood.
The other figure, who was still obscured by the light shining in through the doorway, coughed before responding.
"That was factoring in the fact that the target was supposed to be a small, lean teenaged girl, not some bloated, baby-faced tub of lard. There wasn't enough to keep him out of it for that long."
Walter would have responded indignantly, but his tongue felt thick in his mouth, and he was much too terrified to do anything but keep listening. Who the hell were these guys? Satanic worshipers? Was Satan usually depicted with six eyes?
"Hmm," the first cultist hummed, "in any case, it's almost time for the ritual. Get the sacrifice ready."
They walked over to the girl, who Walter now realized was indeed the human shape he had seen earlier in the darkness. He could do nothing but watch, paralyzed, as the cultists unshackled the unconscious girl and carried her out of the room. The room itself was decrepit, the paint on the walls peeling in numerous places, and there was a thin layer of dust covering every surface.
They closed the door as they left, blanketing the room in total darkness once more.
Walter closed his eyes and tried some of the breathing exercises he'd looked up online, but they were barely having an effect.
He stood there, shackled to the wall, for an indeterminate amount of time, not that he bothered to keep track. His heart thundered in his chest, and he felt his blood rushing through his head.
The room was completely silent, but the tension Walter felt was immense and almost tangible. The longer he waited, the more it seemed to grow.
Walter started when all of a sudden he heard a distant scream echo from somewhere beyond the room. This was more than he could handle, as Walter then burst into tears.
"Fuck, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die! Fuck!" Walter said out loud before he began to hyperventilate intensely. His lungs burned, and he felt like he was choking, but he couldn't stop.
It wasn't long before the room was flooded with light again as the door opened. Walter's eyes once again had to adjust, but this time he wasn't given much time to figure out what was going on. Immediately the hooded figures walked up to him and began to unshackle him, but not before they injected him with something from another damned syringe.
Walter continued to flail about before he felt a sudden calm overwhelm his body. His flailing stopped, as did his control over his own limbs. The cultists unshackled him, his body limp and unable to protest, though his mind was still free to anguish over his fate.
One of the cultists must have noticed his tear stained face, because he felt that same female voice whisper into his ear.
"Hush child, it's almost over. You'll soon be with the Master! Oh! I almost envy you!"
If that was supposed to calm Walter down, it didn't work. But he could only protest in his thoughts, his lips refused to recite his pleas.
Through his panic, Walter could finally see what the building he was in properly looked like. Unlike the room he was trapped in just moments ago, the hallway seemed to be much more cared for. The entire place had a very Victorian atmosphere. There were small statues of demonic-looking beasts on podiums, and the walls were covered in intricate designs that Walter hadn't seen anywhere else.
A minute passed in silence, before they reached an ornate, mahogany door.
"Ooh, you might be lucky enough to see the end of the ceremony!" The same voice from before whispered excitedly.
The door opened without a sound, and if his body was under his command, Walter would have winced at the intense heat that came through from the other end. A faint chanting could now be heard coming from within.
As they entered the room Walter tried to get his bearings, but the cultists held him in such a way that he couldn't see into the center of the room. They continued carrying him for a few more seconds before lifting him a small bit and placing him onto a table. It creaked a bit under his weight, but he wasn't in a position to be ashamed of such a thing at the moment.
Walter felt a tiny flash of annoyance as his head was still facing the wall, but as the lady cultist turned his head around to see towards the center of the room, he wished he could have remained the way he was.
The entire room was circular and quite bare, all things considered. There wasn't much in the way of furniture, but it certainly made up for that with the strange symbols that were slathered all over the walls and floor. There were cultists all around, all dressed in that same garb with that terrible necklace around their necks. There was a tall podium on the opposite side of the room, where one of the cultists was chanting in some strange, foreign language.
In the center of the floor, where most of the strange symbols seemed to be concentrated, was the girl. She was struggling to escape, but looked like she was being held down by some unseen force.
Walter tried to look away, but physically couldn't. He was forced to watch as the girl he had tried to save earlier struggled fruitlessly against her invisible bonds. As time passed, the chanting of the cultist gradually grew louder until he was nearly shouting in that ugly, guttural tone of his.
Walter's eyes widened as the symbols, what he now figured were some type of magic rune, began to glow in a terrible, horrifying light. It was impossible to describe exactly how the light looked, as he had never seen that color before. Or had he? He couldn't think, only watch transfixed as, one by one, the runes began to light up in a strange hypnotic pattern.
This continued for a few seconds, before a horrible screeching noise interrupted his thoughts. He squinted his eyes in pain. Oh god! It was excruciating! And he couldn't cover his ears! Walter swore he felt something dribbling out of his ears, but he couldn't muster enough coherent thoughts to complain. The cacophony was too intense!
All of a sudden the clamor stopped, and Walter opened his eyes. He immediately wished he hadn't.
Opposite of the podium and the chanting cultist, some sort of circular portal had opened. It was made up of that same mysterious color the runes were glowing. Walter tried to look into the portal, but all that happened was his body and mind immediately rejecting what he saw. He began to dry heave and developed an intense migraine. His head was pounding and it was getting worse the longer he tried to gaze into the portal. He couldn't even concentrate enough to comprehend what he was seeing!
Walter was forced to turn his gaze to the girl, a sight that was arguably worse than the torture he had just put himself through. Her thrashing had developed to the point that it looked like she was having a seizure. In fact, was she? He couldn't quite tell.
She looked like she was screaming, but he couldn't hear it. As a matter of fact, he couldn't hear anything!
Walter watched as, from the girl, some sort of strange, thick miasma began to appear, first at the bottom of her feet, but it slithered its way up her body until it began to come out of her head. It looked like it was slowly gravitating towards the strange portal, and as it stretched and got further from the girl, her screaming and seizing only got more intense.
It continued to move further away from the girl into the portal before, with a final tear, it separated completely from her body. The second it lost contact with the girl, she stopped seizing and slumped over, her head turning towards him. Her eyes were dead.
If Walter could have screamed, he would have.
'What the hell? What just happened! Is she dead? How'd she die? Oh fuck!'
Walter tried to struggle as the cultists near him took the girl's apparent death as a sign to begin to lift him and carry him over to the center of the ritual room.
He watched as one of the cultists dragged the girl out of the center of the room in preparation for him.
'Is this really how I die? On the floor by some strange portal, getting my soul or whatever the hell sucked out until my body is left a lifeless husk?' Walter thought as they put him down. A tear began to roll down his face, but it quickly dried out due to a strange, hellish heat coming in through the portal.
Walter wanted to continue thinking about his regrets in life, but the cultists and their hell portal had different ideas.
What followed after his placement on the floor was some of the most intense pain that Walter had felt in his entire life. It was almost unreal. On the surface it felt like getting stabbed with serrated needles whilst simultaneously being submerged in magma and getting his bones grinded into dust by a steamroller. It started at his feet but eventually spread over every inch of his body. Both inside and out.
But that was nothing compared to the intense pain Walter felt in his very soul. It felt like his very identity was getting ripped from him. His eyes were still open, and as that thick miasma began to escape from his feet and then up the rest of his body, he could see himself within it. Memories of himself as a child, every emotion he'd ever felt, every bit of knowledge that made him who he was, being torn from his very being and gravitating towards the portal, which even now he couldn't look at without intensifying his pain even further beyond imagination.
Walter watched helplessly as his soul, because that's what it must be, got further away, further out of his reach. And the further it got, the lighter and more foreign his body felt. It was as if it was no longer perfectly suited for holding his own soul. The miasma that was Walter's soul kept reaching out towards the portal, drifting away from Walter's body with each passing second until it finally reached the point of no return.
Walter could feel his very being stretching outwards, and it did nothing to lessen his pain. All that remained of the miasma attached to him was the tiniest sliver that still remained attached at some point above his eyes.
Walter closed his eyes, not wanting to witness that final moment where his essence would finally tear off and leave him an empty husk for the rest of time.
Until, all of a sudden, the pain stopped as quickly as it began. An intensely bright light shined from some point above his body. So intense that it blinded him even through closed eyes. Walter opened his mouth to scream as his soul slammed back into his body. He welcomed it back like a long lost family member. The reunification hurt, but it was nothing compared to the anguish he felt as it was being torn away.
Walter opened his eyes carefully. Through his blinded eyes he could barely make out a vaguely humanoid, black shape, moving fluidly and effortlessly through the room, coming into contact with other dark brown shapes, the cultists, that after a short exchange would fall over and not get up.
He turned his head slightly, only to see another vaguely human shape, this one surrounded by an alluring blue light that would occasionally reach out and strike at the cultists.
The shock of such intense pain was taking its time to wear off, so Walter could do nothing but stare as the black and blue shapes took down all the cultists. Before long, they were the only blurs left standing.
Walter could feel himself start to lose consciousness just as his vision began to clear slightly. At around the same time the black blur began moving towards him. As it got closer, he could just make out the symbol of a bat, before he lost consciousness and fell into complete darkness.
Sorry for the long wait before putting out another story. Up next will either be an update to this story or The Anomaly. I'll try not to take so long, but no guarantees. Reviews are appreciated, I read them all.