Life 58: Strange Tidings

"A bit more white there…" I thought as I put on a few finishing touches, the brush flying across the canvas, light blooming on the piece.

No matter how much darkness, I had learned I needed more light. Always more light.

I was pretty sure I was finished painting, but each time it felt good enough, I kept adding more.

I definitely wasn't capturing the beauty, but I hadn't painted for half my lives, so I was a bit rusty.

I don't know why I was painting, but I was mostly waiting… waiting for the stupid bastard to wake up.

Prescott Manor had been ridiculously easy to break into, and I wanted to do this right.

I easily could have abducted Sean Prescott, as I did his son, but his absence would be noticed… and I really didn't want to have to cast oblivations on a mass scale. Besides, I don't think the man would be very interesting.

Instead, I'm going to scare the fucker, interrogate him for any useful information, then wipe his mind clean.

So, I was painting in his living room, waiting for his security system to notice me, while letting all my pretty paint drip onto his nice carpet.

Honestly, I have no regrets about this, from what I'd heard, the man was a dick. Let his carpet get ruined.

It was with my final stroke, that I heard him gasp.

I turned with a smirk, as I took in the sight of Sean Prescott, the pitiful patriarch of the Prescott family, and unofficial ruler of Arcadia Bay.

He wore bunny slippers.

Oddly enough, he seemed to do a double take at seeing me, before anger like I've never seen bloomed on his face.

"Do you think you're the first to come after it? Because you're not!" He screamed at me, his eyes bulging as he seemed to ignore the fact that it was midnight, and his wife was sleeping upstairs.

I took a look at her earlier, pretty good looking lady, nice curves too. Shame she married for money, she could have done a lot better than the toupee wearing loser that was her husband.

I just blinked as he went on and on. Better he tell me information I wasn't here for, than have him lie about what I actually wanted to know.

"Just because I'm a squib, doesn't mean I'll give up the Grimoire! You can go back to where you came from, before I tell my friends about you. There will be nowhere you can hide you damn witch." He screamed and growled at me, alternating between the two just like my alternating mood. I kept switching between bored and interested, and I wish I could decide on one.

I didn't expect to hear about a grimoire though… that held promise.

"Grimoire you say?" I asked with a growing grin, my eyes lighting up with a sparkle not that different from that of my former mentor. Prescott immediately gulped.

"I love when people incriminate themselves."

"You… aren't here for the Grimoire?" He asked me nervously, his face paling in an instant.

"Nope. I kidnapped your son and just came for his meds. I wouldn't mind raping your mind though, and taking that grimoire off your hands. Not like you can use it anyway." I said with a chuckle, my wand flying up with a burning ruby glow as I blasted him backwards, his body colliding with the trophy case nearby.

Stepping closer to him, I used what little I knew of Legilimency to consume all relevant knowledge (That of Arcadia Bay, the Magical World, and what his wife enjoyed) from his mind, then leaving his unconscious and brain dead body in a pile of his own hubris.

Happy with what I learned, and dealing with a headache of lifetime, I made my way to his hidden cellar, chuckling all the way there.

Grimoire in hand, along with Nathan's meds, I left the Prescotts behind, along with my flawed painting.

Two brunette angels resting in the snow, a rusted triangle lying above them.

I was a bit rusty after all.

School is boring, anyone can tell you that, and it continued to be true as I sat through some environmental lecture about global warming being behind the freak snowstorm we had, and now the the unholy draught we were having. Honestly, I kind of just assumed the world was ending, and apparently I wasn't alone in this belief.

But hey, the bay drying up, however tame it sounds, was much more entertaining than this lady preaching about how the younger generation had to fix what their forefathers had ruined.

Yeah, I didn't feel like cleaning up the mistakes of others.

It's why I stopped being a hero.

To make it worse, Kate didn't have this class since Max had signed up for it, and it's too late to drop out…

So I was bored and kind of missing Binns' old lectures at this point. His I could sleep through at least.

As the woman droned on for the fifth or sixth time, I just dropped my head down as I debated building a Time Turner… or making Polyjuice and just enslaving a squirrel or something to take my place.

I just seethed until the clock finally reached the god forsaken end, and the woman let us free, the students swarming out the doors like angry bees, myself among them.

Maybe I could put a compulsion on Principal Wells to get me out of the useless classes? Then again, from what Prescott's mind had told me, Wells' mind was as fragile as pudding. One more compulsion would likely break the man, and while I wasn't adverse to that, the last thing I needed was a competent principal getting in the way of me enjoying myself.

As I made my way towards the exit, I saw a group of students crowded by a wall, their eyes locked on it as they muttered. From what little I could hear, I caught the words 'Who' and 'Missing.'

That was interesting enough to investigate, I would say.

Pushing my way through them, I saw a missing poster for Nathan, which was boring since I held him under lock and key, but I saw something else here.

Under the poster of the missing boy, I saw the edge of another peeking through, the paper of it ripped and torn.

Ignoring the protests of the students around me, I pulled Nathan's poster free, and laid eyes on the buried face below.

A pretty, but conceited looking girl smiled at me, feather earrings hanging from her ears.

Rachel Amber, a girl a bit older than my current self, had gone missing in the town a few months before Max had returned to it.

While this shouldn't have affected me at all, besides just the interest of solving a mystery, her name triggered something in me, an echo of something long forgotten, or recently lost?

"Do I know something about her? Or… did someone else?"

I kept running through my memory, trying to find where I could have heard something about this girl, but I was just coming up with dead ends and shallow words.

I truly didn't know this girl, but I felt like I did and that was something else to figure out. I had gotten feelings like this before, and I knew I couldn't let this, or this girl, go.

I knew I shouldn't.

Well, time to start an investigation.

I was never one for stakeouts, or for flipping through old books in a dusty library. I loved charging forward, cutting to the chase, and finding results directly.

I looked through some basic records from earlier this year, and looked up anything to do with Rachel Amber, and conveniently found the teacher that she had been the assistant for… And it just so happens that my dear Kate had also been working for the same teacher prior to her accident…

It was time to interrogate the man that everyone seemed to love, yet the one that no one seemed to really know anything about.

A man very similar to the man that I once knew, who had hidden so many dark things, yet had so many follow him blindly.

"Mark Jefferson, step into my parlor…"

I had grabbed the man when he was finishing up work in his classroom, and quickly activated my homemade Portkey. With a flash of light, it took the two of us far, far away from Arcadia Bay.

I had planned on just bringing him to Rapture Station, but I felt this compulsion of sorts upon seeing him stand there in his office, silently… coldly.

I felt something from the man, and it unnerved me.

So, rather than bring the man to my secret base, I brought him all the way to Nevada, to the bloody remains of the Goblin Stronghold.

Throwing him from my grasp and sending his body flying, I pulled a chair through the air, and in a second, binded his body to it with silver chains.

After ensuring the man wasn't going anywhere, I took my leave of him, sealing the place completely off from anyone that would want to search it.

I needed a few things, and I knew just where to find them.

"Welcome to Costume City!" A young cashier called out to the store as the front door chime echoed out. This young man had worked for the store for just a month, but the costume business had done well by him so far, so he happily spent his spare hours working.

It was an interesting job though, selling costumes and props for parties or any real occasion.

He normally didn't see too many interesting things while on the job, until a girl his age appeared out of nowhere, clad all in black robes and a fierce look on her face.

While they sometimes got cosplayers in the shop, they normally would stop and chat for a bit, usually asking for some part or another, even showing off their costumes in some cases.

This girl however, she just walked right in without a word, and made her way into the aisles, silent as a spirit and just as softly.

He left her to her business, as customers normally found what they were looking for, so he just sat back with his magazine.

She was probably looking for a wand or something, or-

Before he could finish his thought however, the girl walked up to the counter, her left hand holding onto a mask, a cloth sack in the other.

Before he could say a word, she threw the sack to him, and walked off with her mask in hand.

Shaking off the confusion, he climbed to his feet and raced to follow the strange girl, pushing the shop door open... Only to see an empty street before him, the street lights shining down on the asphalt and highlighting the fact that he was utterly alone.

Shaking his head, he walked back into the store, his eyes landing on the sack she'd thrown to him.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the sack to find, to his surprise, a sack of gold coins.

Seeing that they looked real enough, he pushed the weird girl out of his mind, and got back to work.

He did wonder what she wanted a snake mask for.

"What the hell happened…?" The man known as Mark Jefferson wondered as he came back to the land of the living, the heat being the first thing he noticed as he came to, his body restrained by glowing chains that burned with some sort eldritch energy that he didn't dare try to understand.

"Hello Mark Jefferson, I have some questions for you." A scratchy voice echoed out in the cave that he found himself in, the voice completely unrecognizable in the silent realm that was his new prison.

His question was answered, however, as he observed a figure in darkened robes stroll into the room, the lights flickering around the figure as they walked at such a slow pace.

Jefferson wasn't new at this game however.

"Please! I'll answer anything! We don't need to fight." Jefferson called out to the figure, trying to play the game that he had played for so long, the amicable photographer, the understanding teacher. The nice and cool friend, the wise beyond his years visionary.

So many faces, yet none his own.

"Oh, we won't be fighting. You aren't leaving that chair until I'm done with you." The figure called out as they moved to face him, revealing a mask of a reptilian figure, burning red eyes shining and skull like features marking the mask in the darkness of the cave.

His abductor's words were scratchy and drawn out, almost like a snake, letters slurred and stretched, and while any other would be frightened, Jefferson was fine.

Enjoying this even, as it certainly beat another day grading awful assignments and looking over awful photographs for that damn contest.

However, it did serve his purposes well, he supposed, as so many laid themselves bare before him, their souls exposed to his judgeful gaze.

While he usually would have kept up the facade, something in the way they held themselves, told him quite simply to cut the shit, and cut it he did.

In almost an instant, his body shifted like a man relaxed, his shoulders loosening and a smile gracing his face comfortably as he sat back in the stone chair he was chained to.

He looked happy.

"So… what is this about, my most gracious host? Perhaps the Augustine photo?" Jefferson asked them, a lazy smirk warping his face in a mockery of a smile, the bindings not bothering him in the slightest.

While he gave off an image of a callous man enjoying himself, he had no way of knowing that his abductor was enjoying this debate much more than he did.

"Well, I mainly wanted to know your connection to Rachel Amber and Kate Marsh, but let's talk about a few things, shall we?" The snake faced figure suggested with excitement, throwing down a file onto Jefferson's lap, photos falling out of it, all depicting young women laid to rest and photographed in various poses.

Jefferson smirked here, his eyes glazing over as he observed his work with pride and glee, his gaze looking over each and every photograph.

"I already know you're connected to the disappearance of Rachel Amber, considering that the last time anyone saw her, she had come into school to assist you with the formation of a photography club… which was never formed." The figure stated to the silence of the room, the memory flashing through Jefferson's mind, along with memories of a darkened room, the snap of a camera echoing like the rain drops in the cave, his thoughts dominated like the will of so many others.

Their lives dangling in his grasp like his life in this stranger's.

However, he was marveling at the fact that he'd been working at the academy for less than a year, and someone had already unraveled his schemes.

How incredible.

"What tipped you off there?" Jefferson asked them, since he had been so sure that he'd covered his tracks several times over. Hell, he'd burned his tracks at several points, just to be sure that it would never come back to him.

Yet, it all had.

The figure chuckled here, as they revealed the bombshell they'd been hanging onto.

"I just looked into your teaching logs. You were listed as in school on April 22nd, and Rachel attended that day. However, her parents said that she didn't come home that night. Since she never left the school, which I cross referenced with the security cameras, that meant she didn't leave… The only member of staff that had seen her in the later part of the day, was you." The figure explained smugly, as even though he couldn't see their face, he knew they were smirking.

He just couldn't fathom that he had left such a trail, he had been over the books so many times, marking off any possible leads… how could this happen?

"I see you've tied the lines together Jefferson, now…" The figure said with glee as they stalked closer to him, lifting his chin to force him to meet their burning crimson eyes, fear actually managing to claw at his heart.

He knew then, that he wasn't leaving this cave alive.

"Tell me about Kate Marsh."

"Max, is that blood?" Kate asked me, almost in shock as she rubbed her finger against my sleeve, pointing out the droplets of scarlet against my black sleeve.

How she even noticed the little bit of red was nothing short of extraordinary, but I just smiled at her look of worry.

It was cute that she thought I was hurt, but she should have been worried for someone else.

I mean, I hurt plenty of people.

"Yeah Kate, I just nicked myself a little this morning, it's nothing." I said briskly, my smile cutting her off before she could get too worked up about me taking care of myself. She had already asked me to clean up my doom room, stating that it wasn't safe to have bits and pieces of the room thrown around.

I had been in the process of throwing out old bits of furniture Max had bought, and replacing it with pristine pieces that I had procured with the pilfered wealth that the Goblins had been so kind to give me.

Nothing too good for um… Hax Caulfield, as I'd taken to calling myself, as it helped with the assimilation a bit. Regardless, I had already replaced much of the dorm room, and had wisely gotten myself a safe for my "Voldemort" mask and the Prescott Grimoire… And wasn't that a surprise.

A leather bound history of the Prescott family, their lives and accomplishments… but bound in such a way that only a Magical could open it. Seems like someone didn't like Muggles in their family, and didn't think the family-line would dilute themselves so badly that they lost their magic completely.

How fitting for such a snobbish and sick family.

I was then interrupted from the gleeful recollection of my spoils, when Kate mentioned something about taking better care of myself.

I just smiled and nodded, as I thought over what I now knew, and it actually scared me a bit as the weird reality of it all sunk in for the first time.

Jefferson wasn't the end of this, despite the man's vile record, I had learned so very much, and surprisingly I had learned the most from poor, troubled Nathan.

From what I had seen, Nathan Prescott was what I called a "Channel", a living being able to connect with forces well beyond our little world... he wasn't crazy, and I now knew that, and so much more...

Arcadia Bay was much more than just a fishing town, it was in the middle of something big and bad… and it was opening.

It was almost like the lock on some cosmic Pandora's Box, just waiting to be opened… and the box was ready to crack.

A storm was coming… and I was right in the eye of it all.

"How wonderful."

On a dark shore, the sands blackened by unearthly flames, the tide gone and afraid, a being beyond imagination stood alone on the edge, staring into the space beyond.

Unseen, an infernal clock ticked by and by, hands passing posts, days passing like birds in the sky, the end approaching for all things.

The air began to freeze around the entity, the breeze chilling from its grace, the very presence of the being corrupting the ground below, everything coming to a close around it.

Finally, after the night began to wane, and a dreary sun tried to rise, the being attempted what one could call a smile, as time began to flow once more, the waves roaring and the leaves of the past flying their paths once more.

Yet, the figure stood still, life flowing freely around it, yet they were unaffected by any and everything. Frozen in their lack of pace, yet there all the same.

"Our time comes Master, if only you were ready for it… " And with that whisper uttered only for the ears of one, the being vanished, just as silently as it had appeared, the sands whipped into a rage as the winds howled in pain and misery.

Just as a storm began to rise, and so many fell into a deep sleep.