Mai stepped out of her body and delved into the waters below. Her landing caused ripples in the darkness and her eyes tracked their movement as they spread out far beyond her sight. She could only hope they did not travel far enough to alert her target of her approach, if she was careful, she could still catch it off guard. After a decade of trial and error, Mai was pretty confident in her abilities on the still waters of the spiritual in between, but she cautioned herself as she took her first quiet step into the unknown, reminding herself of her target's capabilities even without direct contact with its prey. Sam had nearly been driven mad.
Mai glanced back to look over the faded and transparent forms of her sleeping body and Ayako. The priestess leaned forward and set the charm atop her body's forehead before reclaiming her seat and beginning an encantation that would offer Mai protection during her travels. It was the best the priestess could do for her.
Mai stepped forward into the darkness, slipping through the door Monk had previously closed, and pulled it shut in her wake. The click of the mechanism snapping back into place echoed across the waters and caused the few floating orbs of light within her vicinity to spin about curiously. When she looked to the right she found herself staring into the open door of the base where the figure of Oliver, seated behind the desk, lifted his gaze to the door warily. She knew he couldn't see her but his heated stare still sent a thrill through her. If they hadn't just spent the evening together she might have even blushed, but instead, she sent him a playful wave before she turned on her heel and stealthily made her way down the hall.
Through her studies, Mai learned that each person viewed the astral plane differently. Some people saw it as a misty forest, a never-ending desert, or even the surface of the moon. But to her, it had always been the vast dark plane filled with water, lit by nothing but her own spiritual glow and the orbs that floated around her. Mai knew the orbs as the spirits of those who had died but not yet passed on - but each orb was just as likely to be the spirit of a fish as it was a person. In her younger years, she had considered helping them all to pass into the afterlife before she understood the enormity of such a task. She would have, essentially, become the grim reaper. Had she devoted herself to such a task it would have taken the rest of her life and all of her afterlife too, an eternity of ferrying souls. It was laughable to her now. Some things just needed the time to process that their life had come to an end before moving on, not everything needed a guiding hand. And that was okay.
Mai lightly traced a finger along the transparent wall at her side as she began the journey back out into the museum. She could see it all laid out before her, a three-dimensional representation of the floorplans Andrew had managed to procure for her. She knew exactly where it was she needed to go in order to retrace Sam's steps thanks to the team's effort so it was with a bit more confidence than she should have afforded herself that she stepped out into Hope's display and stared up at the whale skeleton in awe.
It looked haunting in the dim glow of the astral plane. Reflected water danced across her bones, sending monstrous shadows playing across the angular and chipped skull, making her look more like some sea monster from tales of old. But the orbs! They flocked to her! It seemed even in death humans were drawn to the beauty the Earth had to offer. Although Hope herself had long since passed on her remains inspired wonder in even those who struggled to accept their circumstances.
As she watched the orbs shifted around the giant and illuminated her in a new light, new angles, with every movement bringing life back to her. She looked like she was swimming once more.
Mai had never considered that even the dead visited museums. She smiled at the thought before turning away to pad off into greater depths, minimizing her ripples the best she could. The only sound following in her wake was the water beneath her feet and her own heart.
Lydia was here.
The thought occurred to her much later after what felt like hours of sneaking through the museum. The longer she was present the more solid the building became around her. Colors would seep back into the transparent barriers that made up the walls, floors, and ceilings. Usually, this would shortly lead to her waking up back in her body. It was a gradual return, just as entering the astral plane was like the waves washing her out to sea one bit at a time, so was the journey back. But Mai could strain against this, and she was doing so now, pushing reality aside as it tried to reassert itself.
Lydia was here and if she could manage to find her she might be able to help her pass on regardless of whatever was holding her hostage. It was temptation at its finest. Should she use her dwindling time to search out the singular soul amongst the thousand that were present, or should she sniff out their culprit? In truth, Lydia was the true haunting they had come to investigate as whatever was holding her there had gone unnoticed for nearly two centuries. Mai assumed that whatever victims had come before had long since been… consumed, and she would like to save the girl from that fate if she could. She had seen how terrible such a thing could be when they visited Yasu's high school all those years ago. They had been forced to watch as hundreds of spirits, trapped within the walls of the school, were forced to consume each other until only one remained.
She never had the chance to ponder the question further. She was passing through the arachnid exhibit, hundreds of creepy crawly spiders on display, their carapaces glowing various shades on the astral plane (True empty vessels often did. It was the only reason Mai could so clearly see Hope when she first entered) when the sound of a droplet of water hitting the surface of her astral plane drew her attention. She had not been moving at the time so the sudden noise was hair raising in the darkness. She lowered herself into a crouch behind a display case and willed her heart to remain steady.
The orbs of light around her fled the area.
"Not helping," she muttered quietly to herself before she turned to grip the side of the display case and peer around it. She could make out nothing in the darkness beyond the hall but she knew with every fiber of her being that their culprit was down there and it very much knew she was there.
This hadn't been part of the plan. She had been hoping to catch it off guard, unaware of her approach, so she could get a good look at it. If she could study its behavior, much like an observer of nature in the wild, she might be able to discern what exactly it was. She had a literal compendium to use as reference thanks to Tristan. She was uncertain of what a full-on confrontation would lead to but she was sure it wouldn't be a pleasant experience.
Especially not for Toby. She hoped with all of her being that he had only been able to experience what he had of Lydia's memories because the spirit had been broadcasting all that she was for Mai to find and Toby, with his bracelet acting as a radio, had picked up the signal. Regardless, she would do her best to master her fear from there on out.
Mai pushed herself to her feet with a determined breath through her nose and sidled around the case to move towards the dark hall. It yawned before her and her heart squeezed within her chest but she refused to back down now that she had found it. Regardless if it knew she was there or not the only way she would get answers was if she pursued it. Still, the darkness that swallowed her as she stepped forward into the hall was palpable. Freezing cold and slimy, it slid up against her soul and dragged its oily essence across her, forcing her into a stumble before she caught herself against the wall. The sound of her footsteps echoed in the dark, warped and wrong.
She felt sick. It didn't matter if she was outside of her body, her skin felt clammy while a disgusting heat flushed her cheeks, she wanted to heave until whatever it was left her system. She supposed it was at least a sure sign that she was on the right path.
Down the hall of pitch black, there was a pleasant ding. Green light spilled forth and illuminated the liminal space between exhibits, its origin the open mouth of an elevator waiting for her with false innocence. This way leads to death, she thought distantly, falling back on dry wit just to calm her mounting nerves. She felt panicked, like a deer ready to bolt at a moment's notice. One wrong move would send her back to her body in a rush and that thought soothed some of her frayed nerves. She could return at any time, there was no one forcing her to do this, and no one would blame her for turning back. She had the power to make that decision whenever she deemed it necessary.
The scent of cold wet earth and decay reached her nose as she shuffled into the elevator. She paused in the doorway with eyes wide, questioning her own sanity for what she was about to do. She knew the elevator was taking her below. There was a research exhibit in the depths of the museum, filled with remains floating in preserving fluids. And below that was the first level of the basement.
The elevator waited patiently. The green tile looked dirty and dingy in the sickening light that flickered above.
She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth as her stomach revolted against the feel of the thing's presence and the smell of rot. It was so strong, like nothing she had ever come across in all of her years dealing with death and what came after.
"It's fine," she murmured to herself and stepped in, bolstering her fleeting courage the best she could. She had suffered much worse, she had no doubt she could handle whatever this thing had to throw at her. Amber eyes alighted on the button pad and she selected the next floor below, ignoring the way it blinked yellow in the green light. Like it was winking at her.
The elevator dropped at an alarming rate into the depths and she stumbled back to grip the railing with a mumbled curse, nearly biting her tongue in the process. And it fell for what felt like full minutes, ignorant of the true size of the building and the depth of its levels, only to knock her off balance and leave her feeling uncertain. Well, she growled to herself, she wouldn't fall for its petty tactics. When the elevator came to a stop and its doors opened she stepped out into the dark once more with her shoulders tossed back.
And fell right into a pit of putrid water. The sensation was so startling she gasped and inhaled its contents by mistake. The sickness in her stomach reached a climax and while she worked to steady herself in the water, learning it was only waist deep, she bent over and emptied the contents of her stomach. The water she had ingested returned for vengeance, tainting her mouth with the taste of rot. It smelled disgusting and if she had been in her physical body she was certain everything she had eaten for the past three days would be following in its wake.
"Ugh," she groaned through a shudder and looked back up at the open doors of the elevator. It looked as if the floor had caved in by a few feet, the jagged edges of broken wood and concrete peeking out beneath the doors, but she could discern no further details. When she turned to face forward she could see only darkness. There was no helpful horizon between the water and empty space to discern distance or location of any kind. The green light spilling forth from the elevator tossed a few lazy reflections of the surface for a handful of feet before its efforts dwindled to naught.
"I've got to keep going," she muttered and pushed forward through the water. It was black and tar-like, nothing at all like the clear placid layers of her astral plane, how it could affect her own perception she had no clue. But it was disturbing, like having someone read through her diary and correct it, gaslighting her into believing her own recollections were wrong. It made her shake her head vigorously in an effort to clear her thoughts.
The water sloshed around her, pulling at her feet and calves as she trudged on, and she wondered just how far this path would lead her. Like Lydia, she could feel the weight of the world bearing down overhead but now there was something pulling at her from below. In fact, she froze on the spot, water continuing to slosh around her in dwindling increments until it was still once more. But her breath was bordering on hyperventilation. She was positive that there was a hand wrapped around her ankle. It was cold and slick and brittle but she could feel the expanse of a palm and each individual finger slipping against her skin.
Mai lifted two fingers and braced her thumb against her ring finger and pinky. They trembled before her eyes but she used that freight to stoke her anger, as fleeting as it had been since she stepped into the elevator, and slashed her hand through the water with a hissed: "Rin!" The single incantation was all she needed to cut through whatever tether had attached itself to her and the hand disappeared among the muck and water.
But within a matter of seconds, another hand had taken its place. Mai slashed her fingers through the water again and again but no matter how quickly she worked, how many of the nine cuts she managed to spew, more limbs reached out for the depths of the water and latched on to her. They gripped her feet, her ankles, her knees all the way up to her stomach and they were not shy where their fingers roamed. She kicked out it terror and anger, the two emotions mixing together like oil and water, taking turns over her movements and actions without regard for logic. It was animal instinct. She was a rabid creature backed into a corner and she would bite and claw at anything within her vicinity if it meant escape.
The hands tugged at her, pulling her beneath the surface over and over and each time she fought her way back up, spitting and spewing water while she growled with the ferocity of a wild cat. It may have been enough to cow her into submission when she was younger but the astral plane was hers. She had faced off against demons and demi-gods in her realm and she knew she would walk out of this encounter too if she could just break free!
Her right ankle twisted and suddenly her foot slipped out from underneath her and she toppled back into the depths with a grunt. The water closed in over her head and blocked out even her own glow. There was no light and the hands quickly migrated to her arms, her shoulders, and even her throat. They were suffocating her beneath the heavy surface, waiting for her to draw breath, to let them in. But she refused.
And then the first chunk of her flesh was torn away and the pain sent white-hot spears through her head. Her eyes opened wide in the putrid water and she fought against her entire being to keep her mouth shut. She wasn't in her body! It would be horrible if those hands tore away true flesh and blood, she would be crippled, but it was a piece of her soul!
Lydia, who had run, shedding pieces of herself along the way. She must have suffered a similar pain. Too focused on her goal to falter. Mai took heart in Lydia's strength and thrashed with renewed vigor. She didn't need to breathe, her body would do that for her, this was her spirit. Whatever panic this thing was attempting to inspire within her would be quickly snuffed out if she had anything to say about it. And if there was anything anyone knew about her it was that she almost always had a lot to say.
When cleansing a spirit it was important to remain light and positive. It would inspire the energy of the lost soul and allow them to pass on, like spreading peace, but that was not Mai's goal at this moment. Her focus was on freeing herself, thwarting her enemy, and fighting back. So rather than pull on the wealth of positive energy she had within her, she stoked the embers of her anger. Even under the water and held down by hands she lashed out with her two fingers and continued to cut. Even as she felt pieces of her break away with each hand she couldn't reach in time, she kept fighting. It hurt and had she been in her body she doubted she would still be conscious but her anger allowed her to push forward.
Mai kicked a foot out as it was freed and used it to brace herself while she freed her other arm, the hand around her throat tightened its hold but she ignored it for the moment. She struggled to free her limbs and rolled over, pushing herself to her hands and knees with gritted teeth. The strain hurt but she was making headway, she could feel it. Her head broke the surface of the water and she instinctively opened her mouth to take a breath regardless of her need for it.
Her triumph was short-lived.
The hand around her throat pulled with such strength she found herself hurtling through the water. She knew not what direction it was taking her, only that the putrid water was forcing its way down her nose and throat once more, and that pieces of her were lost along the way. Phantom limbs rose up from the depths to pick at her as she tumbled passed them, fighting and coughing for all that she was worth.
It was like she was caught within rapids, fighting against the flow of nature, smashing up against rocks and debris as she went.
She felt like a fly caught in a spider's web. She was beginning to wonder if struggling would do her any good. It seemed no matter how many times she pulled herself back up and continued to fight this creature, or creatures, had more in store for her. Their will to keep her was just as strong as her will for freedom.
All that she could see was darkness and if it weren't for the feel of the slimy water washing over her she wouldn't even have known if she was above or below the surface. And then it pulled her under fully and her ears were assaulted by the sound of rushing water. Hysterically, she recalled the night prior when she had enjoyed a dip in the jacuzzi tub. All she had heard then had been the rushing of water as well. At the time, it had been soothing, but now she doubted she would ever take comfort in such a sound again. If she made it back, anyways. She didn't know if she had ever been pulled so far from her body before.
Mai tried to brace herself against the ground below, to dig her heels into the mud and rot to slow her progression, but suddenly, there was no more ground beneath her. Mai was tossed out over the edge of a chasm, breaking through the surface of flowing water that spilled forth behind her, and while she flew through the air she had just a moment to catch a glimpse of an amorphous mass of darkness. Faces and slathering fangs, phantom limbs, and blood, pooling darkness that reached up into the air as if to gobble her up.
This is what Lydia had been running from. It was what Lydia had seen spilling forth down the stairs in her wake before it had shifted into something else for a fraction of a moment.
Whatever it was, Mai was certain this was its true form. She had no clue how to combat such an enemy, it matched with nothing Tristan had provided in his research, not that she could recall in that split moment anyways. Gravity had yet to reclaim her but it was only a matter of time as her arms splayed out in the air in some desperate attempt to slow her descent.
This was it, Mai concluded in that brief moment between moments, there was no coming back from this. Her soul would never return to her body and her friends and family would be left to mourn her and see to her affairs. She couldn't bare the thought of the pain it would cause them. What it would mean for Toby. Perhaps, as the hands had taken chunks of her soul, he too would have a small piece of her. Hopefully, it was enough to sustain the bracelet's effects without her. It would be a shame otherwise. Lin had assured her it would last well into the years without any action from her and she trusted his judgment on such a matter above all else. It was probably pointless to worry about disposing of it now, considering her soul was now scattered about beneath the depths of the museum.
Even as the feeling of freefall took over, and she was forced to admit how small she was in comparison to the enormity of the beast and its pit before her, she couldn't help but shed a tear.
A rotting hand was birthed from the precipice of the rising mass and it reached for her greedily. Waiting to pull her down into the pit of rotting writhing gore to join the masses of those it had collected over the centuries. Mai knew within the depths of her intuition and instinct, that she would lose all sense of self within a matter of months, lost to the storm.
But another hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled back even as the rotting fingers wrapped around her foot. From the corner of her eye, she could just make out the soft blue glow of a soul, a beautiful sight in all the darkness that had, until that point, been vacant of the familiar light. Where it touched her she could feel warmth spreading. But where the rotting hand gripped her foot she could only feel white-hot pain, spearing through her muscles, up her leg, and into her hip.
Mai cried out in pain and terror before she tossed her head back and met the gaze of Oliver Davis.
No.
Not Oliver Davis.
Oliver Davis would never look upon her with such heartwrenching regret and fear, outlined in the warm light of a soul at peace despite the fact that he had yet to move on.
"Gene?" she questioned in a hushed whisper.
"I'm sorry," he cried out. He had dropped himself over the edge and was holding on with one hand, feet braced against the cliffside, while he strained to pull her up. "I tried to reach you sooner, Mai, I'm so sorry."
Mai imagined Eugene Davis would have looked the same age as the day that he died but that was not the case. He looked just as old as his brother, clearly aging along with him, or at least, appearing so. But while Oliver favored formal wear, Gene was wearing a hoodie and a pair of joggers, black sneakers grinding against the cliff face in an effort to support them. Curious, she thought distantly, that he managed to look just like his brother when he should have moved on.
"It's okay," she managed to force out through her exhaustion and pain, voice warbling and echoing in the vast chasm they hung over. The seething mass below belched and squealed in frustration.
Gene lifted his eyes to the heavens above while they glistened with unshed tears, "Mai, you're torn to pieces. It's not okay."
Mai glanced down at herself and she felt her heart flutter in her chest, her real chest because Gene was right. She looked tattered and broken, like an old porcelain doll, one more hit away from crumbling to dust. It was frightening to look at and she wasn't certain if she would truly be alright after everything was said and done. But what she did know was that the grotesque hand wrapped around her foot had to go.
"Rin!" she cried out and slashed her fingers through the air one last time.
The hand flinched under the assault but its grip remained strong. Mai grimaced and lifted her hand again as the gore and darkness pulled back further, revealing the emaciated figure of a human man. His body was so lacking fat, so gaunt, that she struggled to make out any legitimate facial features beyond his obvious bone structure. He was pink and covered in blood, like a newborn, but grinned up at her with a manic delight that sent her nervous system thrilling in terror, playing it like a violin.
"No!" she cried out and kicked out with her foot, landing a solid hit to his head, but he refused to relinquish his grip. If Mai flailed about too much trying to fight him off that Gene would likely lose his grip and she refused to allow such an event to occur. She would never bring another into the fate that awaited her below, nor would she dare to laden Gene with such guilt as to have lost her. He may still appear before her as a positive spirit but to experience such a tragedy might be enough to push him over the edge.
"I'll take this," the monster rasped in a guttural voice, second hand reaching up, past her legs, waist, and right through her chest. The suddenness of the action left her stunned and utterly confused. The primal, human part of her struggled to react. A blow through the chest meant death, no further action could remedy the situation, but she wasn't in her body. So why was she suffering under such severe and burning pain that she immediately emptied her stomach of the last of the putrid water? It splattered across his arm and her legs, not that it mattered much, considering she was still covered in it from her ride through its rapids.
"Mai!" Gene shouted and pulled back for all that he was worth, hitching an arm over the edge of the cliff, straining against her weight and the creature's below.
The hand retreated, taking with it something soft and fluttering, glowing in the darkness. Mai felt all that she was grow cold even as she was suddenly freed and hoisted over the cliff and back onto the cool clear waters of the astral plane. Her astral plane. The museum was gone, the pit was gone, and whatever that monster had been was gone. But she could only lay there staring listlessly out at the endless abyss while she mourned the loss of…something.
"Mai!" Eugene was hovering over her, lifting her upper half into his arms and scanning her figure in carefully masked panic. She was covered in holes, her spiritual presence all but gone, and her eyes vacant as the dead. "Come back, Mai, you can do it," he murmured gently, smoothing a hand across the black hole in her chest. His critical eye was able to detect some return of power, the gaping wounds fighting desperately to close themselves, but it was at such a snail's pace he worried she would fade away before she even had the chance to come back to herself.
Mai tried to speak but she found her voice had fallen silent along with the loss of that fluttering light. She didn't know what it had been. Obviously, it wasn't her soul it had taken because she was right there, broken and weak, but still clinging to existence.
And Eugene looked so distraught, showing the most emotion she had seen from him in all their time together a decade ago. Perhaps he had still been weak after his death, recuperating energy, and after a decade of walking through the astral plane he had managed to gather enough to be more, well, alive. Or, perhaps it had been the lack of her training that had prevented her from perceiving him as such.
Mai fought to lift a trembling hand and in reflection of his brother, he reached out to grip it to his chest. There was so much she wanted to ask him, to find out what he was doing still among those yet to pass on. But she couldn't bring herself to speak. Even while he held her within his arms she could still feel the touch of hundreds of slimy rotting appendages. She shut her eyes against the imagery and shuddered.
"I have you, Mai, it's okay," he mumbled wetly and hefted her into his arms, climbing to his feet.
Mai's living body might have been an empty vessel with no drawing power to it but he would always be able to find his brother. Gene took off at a daredevil's pace with her cradled in his hold. Mai's astral plane was an easy one to navigate when you had enough practice, and Eugene Davis definitely did. He bounded through the water that overlayed the distant shape of the museum in search of that bright immutable light that was his brother, always brimming with volatile energy powerful enough to ward off anything should he turn his gaze upon it.
He was so close.