Day 15 (The Signs of Chaos, The Storm)

Alyssa was on edge during the drive. As Jacob scanned the road for - well, she didn't know what exactly he was doing - she sound herself looking around for the signs that Jacob had mentioned. Twice the intersection lights were mis-timed, though this didn't impede his driving at all. Once she saw an abandoned bulldozer at the side of the road, but the road itself was not under construction. They passed the police car which had carelessly driven by the evacuated restaurant earlier. Alyssa glanced over when she spotted it, and got a glimpse of its driver - a middle aged man with a look of severe concentration on his face. She couldn't discern more than that, and really, the concentration was probably her imagination anyway. Jacob had driven right by him and Alyssa thought that even if the officer was capable of perceiving their car, he wouldn't have pulled them over. He seemed far too distracted. She wondered briefly what his department was making of the chaos.

Jacob turned down another road and Alyssa turned her eyes forward. She reflexively pushed her foot to the floor where the brake pedal would have been if she had been driving, but Jacob kept right on going. Alyssa was too busy staring out the windows to ask him why: Several harpies were floating listlessly along the sidewalks.

"They're unattached." Jacob said, nearly startling her.

She watched them more closely. He was right, of course, even if it didn't make any sense. Harpies were attracted to strong emotion, and so were almost never seen away from the person they'd attached themselves to. In this case, though, they were simply wandering. They looked confused and disoriented, and though Alyssa could sympathize with the feelings she could not make herself pity them.

Jacob turned into the parking lot of a very run-down motel. "This is our stop. We've got about three hours to wait, I'd estimate. Not a thing we can do until then."

Alyssa opened up the glove box and stole a candy bar of a brand she didn't recognize. She'd need the energy if she was going to stay alert for that long.

(( CHAPTER 7: THE STORM ))

Jacob had the window. The curtains were mostly closed, as per his instructions, and he sat perched on a turned over milk crate near the inch he'd left himself to spy on the outside.

Alyssa was watching television. This had seemed almost absurd when Jacob had first suggested it, but she'd done it. Sitcoms, at first. Shows she recognized vaguely, but for some reason she didn't remember the specific episodes that were airing. She hardly ever watched nowadays. The reception wasn't that great to begin with, owing to the poor quality of the television set itself rather than the storm, though that changed quickly. A constant pattern of static had paraded itself on screen for as long as it had been operating, but this quickly changed in tenor. First, mild static, then a loss of the vertical hold for a few moments. A radar map appeared in the bottom-right of the screen after they'd been there an hour. Alyssa was sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the foot of the bed, and Jacob was at the curtain, a spot he hadn't budged from the moment he'd found his makeshift seat.

"Looks like it might storm." she said, grinning slightly at the big letters underneath the map which read "SEVERE STORM WARNING."

"I told you my hip was acting up." Jacob replied, as dryly as always.

Whatever station it was they were watching, it became rapidly obvious that it was operating from within the city they were in. The static would have been there regardless, but the 30-minute long string of commercials indicated that someone at the station wasn't thinking clearly, and that was certainly the hallmark of their locale. The show resumed, but was preempted by a news report only a few minutes afterward. "Stay inside" it warned. "Seek shelter". The weatherman was not in the least serious, instead the position was filled by someone who was apparently supposed to make people feel better about being stuck in the rain. He smiled the whole time, saying how the area needed the rain, joking how he'd be late home from work. The more Alyssa watched of it, the less she liked. It wasn't a Sign like the ones she'd been seeing all day, it was just off-putting.

The sitcom, far from being resumed already in progress, aired again from the beginning. It was about fifteen minutes off, and at no point was this remedied.

At the two hour point, static overtook the screen totally. The image snowed over slowly at first, occupying only a portion of the show in the background. Slowly it spread from that corner until it was covering the whole screen. The audio continued on undeterred, however, until the characters ceased speaking in a language that she understood.

"Alyssa, look at this." Jacob said, still unmoving.

She squinted further at the television. The static was unlike ordinary static, it seemed to pulse, to ebb and flow in time with the nonsense words that the recently invisible actors were speaking.

"Alyssa!" Jacob said sharply, and she looked in his direction. He was frowning, and had for the first time that evening pulled his gaze away from the window. "Be careful there. Ordinary people watching this aren't seeing what you see, they're seeing their show. At least, they think they are. They think they're hearing their show, and they're hearing the hymn instead.."

Alyssa shuddered. Jacob was right; it was a hymn. The cadence was right, but the tone was off. Whatever it was the voices claiming to be the Hollywood famous were worshiping, it was something she wanted no part of. She stood up, not without effort, and walked to Jacob. He gestured out the window, at the sky.

The clouds were literally churning, as though some foul mixture had been poured into them and then stirred furiously. Every so often, a ray of sickening light seemed to slip through the clouds briefly and then go into hiding.

"It's starting." Jacob barely spoke. "If we're lucky, they'll come out to call it before it hits. This is where it'll touch down, right outside of this run-down shack. If we stop it soon enough, we can prevent a great deal of the damage it'll cause." he sighed. "Go back to watching the TV. Just be careful; you have the sight, you see what's actually being shown there. It doesn't make you less vulnerable to it, though."

Reluctantly, Alyssa tore herself away from the increasingly turbulent skies and moved back to her TV viewing spot. The static pulsed with her footfalls, and she reached toward the knob to change the channel.

Static, everywhere. Each channel had its own variety, even channels which had not beforehand been broadcasting or even in existence. They were covering their bases, she thought moodily, whoever 'they' were. She finally put the TV back on the channel she'd started with, sat down in her previous position, and stared angrily toward it.

The static did not waver, though the voices on-screen did. They muttered their hymn, they cracked jokes. Voices of commercial salespeople asked customers to by Downy one moment, implored them to end their lives gruesomely the next.

The static vanished, replaced by the weatherman. The map in the lower-right of the screen was still there, covered in red. The poor reception of the set made the color look a great deal more like blood than severe weather. Letters underneath proclaimed "SEVERE TRIAGE STORM WARNING SEVEN", whatever that meant.

The weatherman's smile hadn't vanished, rather it had increased. He looked like a madman, Alyssa thought, and the horrible thought occurred to her that this was exactly the case. Not only for the man whose only wrong deed was to become employed in a city destined for chaos, but for everyone watching at home, waiting with faint hope for words of advice.

"Viewers." he said, then stopped. "Our viewers."

More silence, that nonsense smile stretched wide.

"Can't you realize he slept a lot last night?" the newsman asked, voice deadly serious and more than a little angry. "Don't you know how hard he works? He's been gone for weeks, maybe, months out of the year, so I think he's earned it, don't you? Lord knows you don't travel for your job that much."

The idiotic grin seemed to flash even wider, gleaming teeth nearly blinding. The man turned to another camera, which obligingly turned on to show him facing it.

"I work hard, too, it's just that I'm worried for him, you see." small bits of laughter were beginning to seep through his voice, though it remained utterly stoic otherwise. "Shouldn't he be with us? It doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense. IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE."

Alyssa stared at the screen, slack-jawed. Who were they arguing over? She shook her head to clear it - there was no they, the weatherman was obviously arguing with himself. There were no other anchors present, there was no map behind him, and the small radar hint in the corner had grown smaller. It was black now, and churning like the clouds outside.

The anchor's voice rose, and instead of laughter coming from him there were instead furious cries. He stood, and the camera followed him.

"DON'T YOU REALIZE WHAT'S HAPPENING? GODDAMN IT! YOU'RE SUCH A GODDAMN LAZY BASTARD, YOU DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT US! FUCK YOU!" His eyes rolled back in his head, and foam began to escape from his mouth. Alyssa found herself pushing further against the foot of the bed in an unconscious effort to keep away from him as he moved closer to the camera.

His eyes cleared, suddenly, his smile vanished, and for a horrible moment, she knew he was his real self again. He looked at the camera, and whispered. "Why aren't you helping us?"

He fell down.

Static covered the screen.

Seconds later, the television turned off altogether.

For the first time since they'd arrived, Jacob was standing. His gun was in his hand and he was moving toward the door. "Alyssa!" he yelled. "They're here!"

She was on her feet, then, not thinking about what she'd just witnessed on the television. The images didn't leave her, though. She tried to force them to the back of her mind, but she just kept thinking of the weatherman, a decent man, in the wrong city turned to madness, his eyes rolled up and his mouth foaming.

They left the room at a run, Jacob gesturing ahead. The rain poured down with an intensity unlike anything Alyssa had ever felt - each drop hit her hard, and they burned when they contacted her skin. The sickening yellowish light that the clouds had been mercifully blocking was seeping through very strongly, though apparently only over them. That was not their target, though. The Sightless were.

There were at least three of them, that she could see clearly. They stood in the middle of the road, mouths opened and heads thrown back. Sounds, horrible sounds, the songs which could not be heard to their deaf god, calling the chaos, echoed from them. The cracks in their skin oozed pus. The three she could see had somehow driven knives into their palms, and were standing in a circle.

It sounded like a train, she thought idiotically. It didn't make sense that in a city that all order had been robbed from, the trains would still be running on time. The truth sunk in a moment later, though, as she saw the clouds whirl with further vengeance, the sound a testament to their torture. The sickening light pulsed in time with the screaming of the Sightless, and it burst from the funnel cloud above them, a ray of sickening yellow and orange that made her ill to look upon.

She barely heard the gunshot, but one of the Sightless fell down instantly, dead. The others turned just as quickly and headed toward Jacob. Neither her nor Jacob had stopped running, but everything was happening so fast! It barely seemed like the Sightless touched the ground in their haste to get at their attacker, but she knew they did because she could hear the squishing of their footsteps.

Her claws were out, practically shining. The cold steel blue had never seemed as real as it did now, and she knew without knowing how that they were a spot of order in the unfolding chaos. Concentrate on that, she thought. It's all falling apart because they need your attention and can't handle a simple morning by just themselves, but as long as you keep everything in mind, everything will be fine.

She shook her head at the nonsense that was seemingly attacking it. The column of light was twisting and growing, and for every step she took toward it and the creatures that guarded it, it seemed to become even stronger. Its influence was reaching her, just by its proximity. If it caught her, everything would be gone.

Jacob fired again, but this time the Sightless were aware of him, and the one it was aimed at dodged out of the way easily. They would get there before she did, she saw. She couldn't get to them in time.

"Do not worry, child, I will come to you." the voice spoke and she'd turned and put her claw through its head. Everything was happening so quickly! "Do not worry, child, you will be among us again!" the Sightless which had been stalking her said, choking, as it died.

Another gunshot. Jacob had been moving quickly, too, and he'd wounded one of his pursuers. It was clear he was on the run now, though - no longer was he in his shooter's stance. The two after him were still coming. Alyssa's slaughter of the one behind her had not even slowed her movement, so quickly had it happened. She ran, yelling her defiance as she did so.

Jacob fired again the moment one of the Sightless chasing him turned to Alyssa. It dodged, and barely managed to escape Alyssa's gleaming claws. Order, she kept thinking. They're beings of chaos, and I'm order.

All she felt was rage, though. The doubt was gone, the horror she'd felt at her first encounter with the Sightless had burned away, evaporated by her hatred of them. What they'd done to the people of this town - not even directly! A side effect of their presence made people swallow their tongues and die foaming at the mouth, and they were uncaring. Chaos was their mission, and they delighted in it. Rage was her mission, and it was all she felt.

She sliced at the Sightless, now moving back as the other turned toward her. Jacob's gun fired again, and killed it in mid-turn.

Five. There were five Sightless there. Jacob had killed one, Alyssa had dispatched another, the third had been shot in its distraction, and the fourth was backing away from her as she watched. The fifth, it was behind Jacob. Its crooked hands and diseased fingernails were inches from his head. It knew she saw it, somehow, its ruined eye sockets useless but facing her, its cruel wound of a mouth wide in the same mad grin she'd been witnessing for what seemed like hours. At the same moment its hand clamped upon the back of Jacob's head, the retreating Sightless' arm clamped on hers.

Jacob screamed, a cry of pain she didn't even know a human could emit. Jacob was the strongest person she knew, and he'd been hurt in the past, but this was inhuman. He was on his knees, screaming at the top of his lungs.

The moment she felt that scaly grip on her arm, she reacted. Everything, fast before, moved even faster. Her other arm rose as she twisted and in a microsecond had severed the infected grasping limb from its host. It fell back as she completed the turn, running toward Jacob.

"Ask who you are, child, that you can do such things." the torturer spat as she ran toward him. Jacob's screaming had ended. "He is ours, as you should know, and he shall be among us. If you would stop it, ask yourself who you are."

She didn't reply. She had no reason left in her, only rage, only pain. She felt like all her life she'd been fighting these things, hating them, and they'd only pushed her down each time. No more, the thought.

"No more!" she screamed. The Sightless dodged her attack, but it had to let go of Jacob in the process. She moved fast, faster than she ever had before, but the horror stayed with her.

"Ask." it spat as it moved backwards, then to the side. "Who are you?" it inquired, its voice boring into her skull.

"WHO ARE YOU?" It demanded, suddenly, its hand pushing out and catching her in the chest. She flew backwards, breath pushed violently from her body, bones feeling as though they'd been struck by a car.

She hit the ground, hard, asphalt striking the back of her head so hard it made her eyes water and her vision grow blurry. She tumbled, and moved upright, moments before the other, the one who had sacrificed its limb in an attempt to grab her, could get hold of her again. It had been waiting, she could see, for its partner to push her into its grasp.

"I am Alyssa D'Eldess." she said, flinching back from its remaining hand and driving her claw into its stomach. She kicked it, then, freeing her claw and pushing it to the ground.

"No." The torturer whispered. "You are not." Its voice carried conviction but fear. Fear! She found herself suppressing a smile. It feared her. It was right to.

She launched herself forward again, and though she was yards away from it, she saw it push its hand forward again, as it had when it pushed her. Everything slowed, then, and she could see the wave of force approaching her, ripples in space itself that would throw her back, not toward the thing's wounded partner, but into the horrid maw of the Chaos Storm itself. She grit her teeth, thinking of her claws as she brought them up. Order. These are /order/.

She sliced the wave of force, and it was torn. It lost its coherence, spun back into the chaos which had created it, and the broke through. The torturer's expression had changed, she could see, it was losing its omnipresent smugness, its surety. Barely a tenth of a second had elapsed, not nearly enough time for this to happen, but she knew it anyway.

And in the last part of that tenth of a second, she closed the gap. In the next tenth, as the sockets which once held its eyes widened and it stumbled backwards, both her hands flew upward. One claw pierced the charcoal remains of its heart. The other slit its neck.

Time became normal again, almost instantly. The expression of shock still hadn't left the things face, but it was dead, and though it seemed to fall slowly in an effort to fight this fact, it was still a fact. Alyssa turned toward the ray of Chaos, the funnel which they'd called, and saw it weakening. The pulsating yellow light was retreating. A trail of ichor marred the pavement where the limbless one had crawled. She could see it, at the foot of what remained of the storm. She rushed toward it, but it slipped in and was gone.

Its callers gone, the light died. The wind stopped, the rain ceased. The funnel vanished as though it never had been. Alyssa turned to Jacob and sat down, hard, next to where he lie. Exhaustion found her, but the storm was over.

She heard the television in the room they'd left behind come to life as power was abruptly retored. The voice of a newsman, calm and collected, came over the air to her ears. Power had been lost to most the city, but utility companies were working to restore everything they could.

The worst, it assured her, had passed.

She shuddered, and knew it hadn't.

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