A/N: Hey everyone, just a quick life update: Things aren't the best, but don't worry! I'm working through it and I got a huge new chapter with a bunch of exposition and I don't plan on stopping any time soon! Just might take me a little longer. Best Beloved will go on! Enjoy!
Chapter 9: Witches in Black Masses
The Crimson Hue appealed to the masses of Pride when it was first constructed, only to fall victim to its own indulgence of business. The money ran elsewhere, and the plaza was left to rot until the insects of violence and matriarchal fears moved in. Dennis was one such arachnid, never amounting to much yet still being given the most attention at how inferior they believed he was. He shrugged off most, however tonight was different. Their departure would be met by a new beginning at Pentagram City of their unceremoniously short stint due to a rival family, and they were determined to wield multiple fists and eyes of iron at any who dared retaliate against their new strength. Dennis extinguished his cigar and returned inside the main lobby, festering against the intruder deterrent cobwebs and made his way to the former cafeteria. His brother was there, eyes closed and laughing with another member of the family, presumably one who despised Dennis as much as he began to despise himself. His brother sighed, turning with his smile forming into a frown as the youngest spider approached. The faint glow of cracked ceiling glass gave the encounter a formidable despair.
"About time the little shit showed up." His brother announced unceremoniously. The other member across the counter had departed, leaving the two direct siblings alone with their emotional squander. "Was afraid that smoke of yours would have been an escape attempt with how much we've been putting on you lately."
"You have that little faith in me, George?" Dennis retorted, receiving a reaction from the opposing arachnid as they lit their own cigar near the sign which forbit it. His brother laughed and extended a scratched arm outward to retrieve it from its rusty screws before gentle resting it on the table. Dennis stared.
"I don't have faith in anything, Den." George referred to his brother by his childhood nickname. "That's kind of why we're all down here."
"Is the meeting ready?" Dennis asked bluntly, tired from the days of dealing with the dancing of his brother's roundabout answers.
George chuckled as one of his hands caressed the side of Dennis' cheek, but it was not out of kindness. "Yes, Dennis. The fucking meeting is ready. It would be a lot better without you in it, but family has orders. Even if I don't like them."
Dennis scoffed as the two arachnids entered down a long hallway barely lit by the outreaching lights of the lobby, interrupted by the occasional flicker. Dennis liked to believe it was the building talking, trying to tell the family to return it to its former glory, or warn that their time there was limited. George began to walk farther than his younger brother but had no concerns as if he made it the entire way or not. In truth, the idea of family was foreign to the two of them, as their temporary employment as mortals was short lived in the grand scheme of life – A dishonest father, a willing mother, and a desolate lack of hope joined the two in fear that there was nothing else waiting for them outside the plaza, however George would never admit that he could ever feel fear. On the other hand, fear is all Dennis felt as the end of the hallway became the front of their visions.
George turned the door, opening it. Dennis saw the silhouette of their father: The Brown Recluse of Midnight, he was called, for his use of the night to shield his extremities until his enemies were far from being able to escape. The count of how many met their second end from a pair of poisonous fangs was unknown to Dennis, however it was high, and his was none, which resulted in their father giving a look of distain at the youngest child as he took his empty seat nearest to the door. Next to him was their mother, eloquent in form and a disease to all life who dared believe themselves superior. She returned a similar distance towards Dennis but gave no attention to George as the latter took their seat across from his brother. The menagerie of others collected themselves around the corners, acting as a shadow of influence across the family of moon-cloaked killers. Dennis watched as his father grunted, leaning close on the table as his mother leaned back.
"Found him smoking outside like the good bitch he wants to be." George declared with amusement, leaning back in his own chair. "Figured he'd ran off to be with some other woman or man or whatever he's into."
"I was just taking a moment." Dennis defended harshly, a tone his father immediately glared sharp daggers at, causing the youngest to slide down into their seat. "Yknow, wanted to make sure I was ready for the meeting."
"Preparing for a meeting?" His father bellowed humorously, taking a drag of his own cigar and turning to his wife. "How fucking funny is that, Matilda? The kid thinks he deserves and award of reason for getting ready for a meeting."
"At least he didn't run." Matilda said. "Would have to teach him a lesson like I did that one prostitute."
"And where did that get us, huh?" The leading arachnid retorted. "Kicked out of the arrangements and thrown in a meaningless town with meaningless people." He suddenly turned to Dennis, eyes narrowed. "With meaningless children."
Dennis felt his heart twitch. The barrage of disheartening remarks from his father were nothing new, although the pain never subsided. He absentmindedly twirled his fingers on the table as his family continued their antics and his father turned away.
"Come on, Midnight. Give the kid a break." Matilda scolded her husband, receiving a smile from Dennis. "At least he was good as a distraction for getting us out of there. How'd you come up with those explosives so quickly?"
"Lots of hairspray." Dennis beamed proudly. "Made a quick fuse out of my own hair and stole a lighter off a homeless hellhound. I think they were dead, though."
"Isn't that ingenuity worth something, Midnight?" Matilda asked her less than enthusiastic husband. "You got us all down here, might as well have some fresh ideas when we're gone."
"Gone?" Midnight asked peculiarly.
"Well, you have kids here for a reason, I imagine." His wife responded. "It's not really appropriate to doubt the youngest when he's clearly got the most creativity out of all of us."
"Hey!" George exclaimed. "I was the one who told dad to get us all the fuck out of there before we got turned into the byproducts of a blender!"
"And you got recognition for that, you little shit." Midnight retorted harshly before giving his oldest son a glare. "What more do you want? A declaration of love?"
"Would be nice." Dennis muttered. His father immediately stood from his seat and skulked across to his youngest child, staring down at them as the two did not make eye contact.
"I don't love the ones who want an award for making a single bomb." Midnight said menacingly, turning to the side of the table with Matilda and George. "Goes for you both, as well. I reward good jobs and following instructions."
Dennis turned away. The shadow of an unknown figure caught his eyes, though it did not move. His father grabbed him by the face to look at each other, glowing red eyes of anger meeting glowing blue eyes of fear from Dennis.
"I want you to show that you're worth more than a few good brownie points, son." Midnight declared. "Right now, I don't see that, and I like to be proven wrong, so you're going to prove me wrong, right?"
"Right." Dennis solemnly agreed and was let loose by his father's grasp.
Midnight returned to his seat. In his mind, his plans were now clouded with disgust at the continuous interruptions of his unteachable child. Dennis looked away again, hands in his lap, and noticed that the figure was now gone. He dismissed it as another member of the family moving across the room, but a pit in his stomach told him otherwise.
"Something is in the way here." Midnight began, dismissing the glow of his cigar into the tray as the smoke billowed between them and his youngest. "I can't tell if its me or Dennis, here. Am I being unreasonable in thinking that you should just… listen? And disregard all this interest in inventions and human music? What's the one you always talking about, the one who sings about highways?"
"It's a catchy song." Dennis retorted. "Why is that such a big deal?"
"Because I've listened to it. Once. It's about going out into the world and leaving everything behind for some sweetheart. Does that not sound like something you would do?"
"Dad, I'm not abandoning this family." Dennis said sternly, taking a stand and staring his father in the eyes with a frown. "I'm just different than you or George. I can run things just as well as you if you'll just believe that I can!"
Midnight scowled. The arachnid remained silent before returning the glow to his cigar. "Then I trust you'll have no problems being put in charge of the next mission after we return to Pentagram City."
A moving blur distracted them from their bantering. Midnight shifted out of his seat and stood, as did the rest of the inhabitants of the table. The rest of the family shifted hastily to the other side of the room, and a dark laugh manifested through a dark cloud as a spear shot through the air and struck the table. Sivah emerged triumphant, walking with one slow clawed collection of talons in front of the other as the swayed confidently with outstretched arms as a declaration of finality to their arrival. Midnight immediately retaliated with a scalding form of fire behind his eyes and climbed across the room with ease, only to be met with a strand of darkness wrapping around him as eloquently as his wife stalked behind him in a backflip and a swift kick to Sivah's face. The wielder of nightmares laughed before more darkness emerged and bled onto the walls and floor, ensnaring Matilda into her own web of imprisonment as Dennis and George watched helplessly from the corner. The rest of the family cowered and quickly made their way out of the room of ensnaring detriment.
"Who the fuck are you?!" George shouted, his arms extended in preparation for a fight to the death. "Let go of mom and dad!"
"I'll let go of them." Sivah smiled, taking the seat which belonged to Midnight. "As soon as we discuss why none of your plans will be happening without my intervention."
"Argh! The fuck they will!" Midnight exclaimed. "Wait until the others hear about this, you will never see another sunrise for-"
Darkness sealed the older arachnid's mouth shut, receiving what almost felt like relief from Dennis. At the very least, his father's demotivational tone would not be the last thing he would ever hear in his second life. He turned to his mother, who had been silenced in a familiar way before she could shout any longer, and Sivah turned his attention to the two siblings.
"How peculiar." Sivah said. "I am Sivah, Wielder of Nightmares, Declaration of God's Lament, and you are the Moonstriker family, correct? Amalgamation of black widows, brown recluses, and disgraced and forgotten to time by more powerful spiders?"
"Moonstruck." Dennis sheepishly corrected, leaning further into the corner of the room.
Sivah turned his head slowly. "What was that my friend? I can't hear you from the sound of your parent's struggling."
"He said Moonstruck." George stood up for his younger brother. "He's Dennis Moonstruck and I'm George Moonstruck."
"A spider named George?" Sivah asked amusingly. "The internet would love that."
"Fuck you." George swore, stepping closer to the entity. Sivah responded by trapping the spider by his limbs against the wall, webbed into place by dark strands.
"I guess the youngest is always the most reasonable, am I right?" Sivah chuckled as he gestured for Dennis to sit. The youngest obliged almost immediately, taking his original seat near the Wielder of Nightmares, as they called themselves. He observed their eyes and noticed that there were only two despite the avian appearance, and their clawed hands almost looked like malformed human hands, stretched, and given claws to establish a reminder of what they once were and what they would become. It instilled fear in Dennis, but his scowl remained in honor of his family.
"What do you want?" Dennis asked, no friendliness to be found in his shaky tone.
"I'm glad you asked." Sivah said. "The blood in your veins is full of opportunity, my friend. I sought out some of the strongest, and most disgraced families all around Upurass. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were the strongest and most disgraced."
"We're not disgraced." George retorted and was silenced immediately.
Sivah waved a hand, turning to Midnight who watched on helplessly. "Of course not. You were just abandoned by everything you held dear and desperately followed your father down here to claim. A sad little family, brought together by avoidable trauma, now wondering why they were every allowed to be given authority in the first place." His stare returned to the youngest in front of him. "Tell me, Dennis – Who sounds more reasonable here, your aimless father, your undyingly loyal brother, or the one staring back at you who understands what they are and flourishes because of it?"
Dennis remained silent, his heart pounding as his hands rested on the table as a cowardice show of no weapons. He looked to his father, who looked away as soon as the two made eye contact. Dennis did not try again, and instead focused his gaze on the one who brandished an ornate staff which manifested out of thin air and into Sivah's fingers, shortened to a handle in a flash with a burning black arrow pointed at Dennis' neck, who desperately fought the urge to break down the door and run. Sivah noticed this inkling of emotion and smiled menacingly, before shoving his chair directly next to the youngest spider. The Wielder of Nightmares felt Dennis's heart skip a beat and flourished in the inside because of it.
"As quickly as you met me, as quickly as you fear me." Sivah smiled with sharpened fangs. "Tell me again, Dennis, if you will: How has God treated you lately?"
"G-God?" Dennis stuttered.
Sivah nodded, hands clasped together on the table in intrigue with a softer tone escaping his lips as the newfound spear sat between them. "Has he spoken to you at all today?"
Dennis shook his head.
Sivah sat unaverred. "I see. He has not spoken to me in a long time. I was hoping that someone of a former faith would have enough credibility to tell me how he is doing these days."
"I uh…" Dennis trailed, resisting the urge to look at his family.
Sivah snapped his fingers, and the world went dark. They were still in the room, at the table, but confined in a personal shroud that only the demonic avian himself could cancel. "Do not look at them. Look at the one talking to you. That is how it works now."
"Sorry." Dennis apologized. "I haven't spoken to God since I got here. Yknow, the whole Hell thing, I guess."
"Were you sure it was him?" Sivah asked. "Was it really the first part of the Holy Trinity conversing with you about promises of wealth and riches, or was it just the psychotic ramblings of a doomed sinner before they ever knew what their father would turn them into?"
"I don't know." Dennis answered simply, shifting in his seat.
"You don't know." Sivah repeated. "You don't know… That's interesting because I know I talked to him directly."
Dennis' eyes adjusted, narrowing slightly in newfound suspicion. "Nobody down here talks to God. Except maybe Lucifer."
Sivah corrected the untrustworthiness of the younger spider by leaning closer, which had the desired effect. "I've been down here when speaking in tongues was still a form of communication, my friend. I am but one of you, but I am not of your blood. God sought a champion to wield his powers as an antagonist of Hell. He did not choose me, but he was so impressed with my dedication that he came to me in a dream, asking for a sacrifice of a lamb in front of the village for all to see. I was to recite a chant that would drag hellfire from the skies and scorch all who would sin against God. After a few days of consideration, I did as told, stealing from the local farmer and placing God's sacrifice against the steps of our highest church. Tongues broke out of my mouth, people gathered around to witness what they assumed to be demonic in nature. I screamed outwards into the heavens, but none would ever expect the holy spirit to send a storm our way the moment my tongue ceased. I watched as the sky grew red, smoke billowing from the rooftops, and was suddenly… pierced. God did not tell me that I would be sacrificed as well, nor did he inform me that I was the true lamb being skewered that day."
Dennis watched on in awe. The glistening eyes of the Wielder of Nightmares shimmered in distant memories, focused on the past and neglecting the present. The youngest spider could feel the manifestation of grief tower overall, his heart growing heavy from cowardice and a desire to flee.
" I denounced God with my dying breath." Sivah said with a hint of sadness that slowly rose into anger. "I loved him until the end, and he chose to abandon me by turning me into his own puppet, testing my loyalty with sick guarantees of eternal life which I soon realized were just whispers of sweet nothings from a higher power. Do you know what whispers are coming from God? Just whispers, like from a human, only with more fear instilled into your bones. There would be nothing waiting for you even if you were a good little boy!"
"Enough!" Dennis shouted suddenly, surprising Sivah as the spider stood from his chair in an overwhelming state of surrealism. "What do you want?! Don't make me try and stop you!"
Sivah calmly stood, gracefully stepping through his own pools of darkness across the realm of sickness he had created and stopping before Midnight, who was more than happy to start throwing swears as soon as his punishment of silence was lifted. Sivah calmly placed his own hand over the oldest spider's mouth, and all ceased.
"I want your family." The Wielder of Nightmares declared. "You see, Dennis, not all who are powerful are also healthy. I see my future, and it does not look bright. You were not my first choice to grasp souls from, but you will not be the last. You will force my plans into actions, or your father will. I don't really care. Just know that I am not leaving without an answer."
Midnight looked at his son. Dennis felt his chest tighten from the expectations and looked to George, who could do nothing but watch with a mixture of rage and fear in his eyes which the brothers shared. The youngest began breathing heavily and returned to the corner. Would he sacrifice which all his father had built in exchange for a drip of mercy from this merciless creature or stand his ground and die with all of the ones around other than his mother, who berated his ideals and creativity. The spider sighed and looked at Sivah, who was humming a familiar tune while looking at Midnight.
"We'll help." Dennis declared. "If you spare us all. If you even try to kill one of us, the deal is off."
Sivah smiled a crooked grin, snapping his fingers. In an instant the fog had dissipated, leaving behind a collection of exhaustion from the entire family now freed. None of them dared to approach the being but continued to watch with anger and frustration without another word at the youngest for his decision. Midnight looked at his youngest son and shook his head, walking away and opening the door as George followed, leaving a scared, confused, and hurting Dennis looking at his new leader. His mother gave him a mournful look as she sat next to her child.
"Take a day, my friends." The Wielder of Nightmares smiled. "I'll need time to prepare us all for what comes next."