Nameless Ghoul

Déjà Vu

Oh fuck, seriously? Itzal thought as his mind came aware again.

His heart hammered in his chest and he was freezing, laying on the stone cold floor of the chapel, inside the summoning circle. He shivered and retched and again, the black bile came up as he puked up whatever it was that churned in his stomach.

His brain was screaming a warning and he felt a sob break from his throat as he realised it was all for fucking nothing. He was back here at the beginning again, but as he remembered it all, it looked like this time he would have the honour of knowing exactly what Santos would have in store for him over the next couple of decades.

He flopped onto his stomach and laid his cheek against the stones of the floor as he sobbed in despair. He waited for Santos to begin the binding spell that would solidify his misery for the rest of his sorry existence.

But something was different this time.

The scent rising from the painted symbols of the circle was not that of human blood; it was ghoul blood; it was his own blood.

He opened his eyes and looked at the figure who was standing over him. The clothing was different this time, too. Black, silky robes with white embroidered inverted crosses and a green lining. As he looked up at the face of the man he had prayed never to see again, he started.

It was not Santos this time. It was Secondo.

He pushed himself up and stood on shaky legs, bringing his hand to his throat to where the collar should be. He closed his eyes and his knees almost gave out as he found only scarred skin there. The collar was gone.

“Welcome back, Itzal," said Secondo with a smirk. He looked over and saw Papa IV sitting on one of the pews looking a little dishevelled. Aether was giving him a drink and fussing over him. Secondo noticed where his gaze had wandered to and he chuckled. “It took a few attempts to get you back. We had to wing it a bit, as the ritual he had used before did not work. We had to adapt it, but at least now we know what works for ghouls.” He said with a shrug. “He is pretty zapped.”

Itzal nodded his head distractedly as his mind worked overtime to figure out what had happened. He was back in the Abbey. He was back! The collar was gone. His hand went to the bare skin over his heart. He couldn’t feel Santos at all. There was no remnant whatsoever. His face broke out into a smile as he looked at Secondo.

“I’m really back?” he whispered, scared to say it out loud in case he jinxed it and was sent away again.

Secondo smiled warmly at him and nodded. It made his skull paint look less sinister.

“Yes. But we are having to hold you in the summoning circle for now, as you would be sent back to your dimension otherwise. There is no bond holding you to this Earth now. So, I need to ask you one last time before we complete the spell. Do you agree to this?”

Itzal thought about what he could do with his life now. He was free; he wasn’t tied to anyone or anything. If he chose to, he could go home and do whatever he wanted to do.

But then he thought of all the ghouls and ghoulettes he’d met since he arrived at the Abbey. They were all happy and they were all still free even though they were bonded to the Emerituses. The brothers had never tried to control their ghouls against their will, had never hurt them intentionally. They had sworn blood oaths not to.

A tiny voice in the scared part of his mind tried to tell him he was an idiot for jumping from one bond to another, but the practical part of his brain overruled it. It reminded him of all the times he had looked enviously at the Clergy ghouls and wished for their lives. Of the times growing up that he had strived to become one of them.