SRθ: Grim Inquiries (2023-2024)

Sit.38: The Trails

I watched from afar, sitting in a tree, as The Heathen made his way down a trail... it was the same trail he'd walked twice already. I almost laughed but had to keep quiet – the odious lout was lost. He'd never been to the ranch before; he'd only heard of its direction, never seeing it for himself. I was absolutely felinious to see it, barely containing my wide grin. A chuckle escaped me, and I covered my mouth – but he heard me, and looked up into my tree.
"Aahh," he pointed, "I see you, there. Like a cat, eh? Is that how you figure yourself?"
"Or something, maybe a dragon," I said calmy. "You could say cats and dogs alike are simply dragons with fur, could you not? Practically anything on four legs with gnashing teeth could be one. Not a chicken, though. Even if you swapped their fluff for scales, they'd still be... uh, I suppose something like a featherless biped?"
"Animals, animals, Christ, Reaper!" he rattled off. "When will you grow up? Are you to be playing in furs your whole life?!"
"Maybe," I shrugged. "You did bring up cats yourself, though."
He shook his head, flicked his wrist at me, and walked off... towards the same circling winder he'd been walking this whole time. It was a measure The Jack and Ranger had taken to dissuade raiders and thieves. Only the rancher's friends knew of it, how it went on just long enough to look straight but actually formed one, large ring if looked at from above... by a falcon or a raven, at least. Hardly something a simple chicken could ever see with its own buggy eyes.
I spoke up, bored with his mistake. "Actually, you're going around, my chubby fellow. You'll want to be heading eastward, t'wards the moon." I pointed to it, a sliver in the darkened sky.
He smiled. "Nice try, but you'd never tell me the REAL way, so I'm going... WEST!" Then he stomped off, green cape twirling.
I rolled my eyes and tried not to laugh again. The ranch was north, actually, but westward was the swamp. East? Well, that was just the way back to town. But hey, I did offer him salvation. What happens after that is all on him. I climbed down from my tree, and followed him as silently as I felt like, from a distance. I didn't bother crouching low, or avoiding crunchy detritus... leaves fallen from last year's autumn, soon to be joined by the next round in only a matter of a few months. It had been so long since he arrived, This Fiend, we'd all forgotten what it was like to be ourselves without him. It was going to be a sweet day when we could finally remember. I stepped on some sticks, very intentionally, but kept my steps quiet otherwise – I was trying to spook him. The way his shoulders hiked when I did it, for just a split second? I think it was working. Towards the marshes, he started to see torches held by the townsfolk, who searched at trail's side to threaten him when they found him. He looked to them from a little afar, and kept his distance, seeing his avoidance and indetection as genius – but again, I was shaking my head. The search was all an act! We'd rehearsed it in the brief moments we had at the edge of the forest together. He really couldn't see them for what they were: the light-marked boundaries on his path to fate. When at last he arrived at the marsh, the swampy reed-pond with a few shacks and docks and fishing rods tied to the wooden poles in the water ground, he sighed. Torches here were already lit, but nobody was around... or so it seemed.
"Ahh, man, okay," he relented. "Maybe I can just... hang out here? Until everyone forgets what I did! Like it... all... never happened. Then they'll calm down, and we'll share a drink, and..." He put his hands to his hips, and reassured himself. "Yeah, okay! I can live here. It'll be a retreat, a vacation. I'll make moonshine, fry some fish, even though I don't really like fish-"
"You'll be retreating alright," I told him from behind, hand on his steel shoulder. "From this world, into the next."
He ignored me. "You're not even worth strangling. Unless you plan to sit on my lap and 'heal' me like your girlfriend did, I suggest you either catch me some fish or leave me the hell alone."
"I would, but..." I gestured to the trees, where torches and pitchforks were gathering all around him. Held by the hands of those he'd harmed, and sold harm to. "They might have other ideas."
"What, then?!" he cried, looking at the people all around them, likely sensing their hatred for him. "Are you going to PUNISH me?! Haven't I already been PUNISHED ENOUGH for a lifet-"
SHNK. I plunged my kitchen knife into a spot on his back, where between chestplate and mail, he had only soft, pink skin... and now, trickling blood, as I removed it.
He grunted as I did, surprised at me. "H-hey, OW! That wasn't very fair of you, Reaper! You're supposed to fight head-on, like a warrior! Or, I dunno, a HERO, maybe?!"
I shrugged. "Why should I? You don't fight fair."
He turned to face me. "Alright, maybe I don't, but if you truly intend to be a hero, then shouldn't you be leading these people by EXAMPLE?! Even I can recognize the folly in that... your wistless pleasure in my destruction, the sadistic... aren't you ASHAMED?"
I looked at him blankly. "You want me to lead by example?" Then I shifted my mask a little bit, just to feel some air behind it. My pants had finally dried off, and I fluffed my shirt around the collar to let some cool in, which stirred inside my hood as well. The bog's dew was damp, and musty, but smelled good compared to the man in front of us. It was like home, in some way.
He nodded, exasperated. "You know what? Yes! If I'm not your role model, here, or anyone else's, then at least you should be! Alright? Because for whatever reason, YOU seem to have control over yourself that I just... LACK!" He cried, letting tears surface to his eyes. His yellowed teeth shone inside of his pained grimace. "Whatever it is you can do that I can't, that stops you from being like me, I'm scared to see you without it! Alright? You should be PROUD of my challenge upon you, for I can SEE it's made you greater! But now? What is  this, Reaper? Are you going to become even worse than I am? Or are you going to show these people how it's DONE?" He gestured to the people all around us, who looked at us with held breath and all-too-confused stares. Was The Heathen... actually happier for us to be without him? He shook me by the shoulders. "If I'm not a good person, and I know I'm not, for I can't control it... then you SHOULD be, FOR me. For the BOTH of us, for ALL of us! Show them all what's right."
"I just did," I grinned, looking daring into his eyes from my father's own.
He was confused, and exasperated. "Wha-"
SHNK. Eyes wide, he looked behind him to see a stray pitchfork, poking out of his back. Not from within his armor, nor his mail, but sticking out of his own, unfeeling skin. Something had happened to him, I supposed, that made him more numb than normal – but he felt it all the same, for its intrusive presence within him. Much like others had felt his. And finally, something was able to pierce him back, something fierce. Even antagonize him in return. He looked at the meek person who'd jabbed him – it was only a simple farmer, afraid of him and already fleeing back into the treeline.
"THAT'S FOR MY FAMILY!" the man yelped, and went silent again.
The Heathen began to cry, "ALRIGHT, already, I've LEARNED my lesson! Can you PLEASE let me explain-"
SHNK, SHNK, SQUICH. More blades joined his meaty flesh, sinking into his layers of fat and lancing skewers into his bones.
"THIS IS FOR MY FAMILY, TOO!" screamed someone.
"AND MINE!" yelled another.
"YOUR JOKES ARE TERRIBLE!"
"I HOPE YOUR ROOSTER BURNS IN HELL!"
"I HOPE THE DEVIL BITES OFF YOUR COCK!"
"YOU RAPED MY DAUGHTER!"
"YOU SANK US WITH BOOZE!"
"YOU RAPED MY SON!"
"YOU TOOK MY WIFE IN HER SLEEP!"
All around him were the kin of Catalite, tired of his ways and reveling in his anguish. And as I watched him, struggling to move as they held him down and stripped off his armor to press more points into his flabby, hedonistic argument, my mind began to wander...