Chapter Text
Shadows loomed all around in that alleyway. A broken man in a red cape, condemned to hell’s dark army, crumbled to the ground, groaning and crying out in existential dread. Out cold in an attempt to gather his thoughts with a former agent of heaven watching over him at his side amidst the gruesome scene he left behind, waiting for him to come around.
Two homeless vagrants suddenly appeared, looks like there were more witnesses, looking as equally concerned as I was.
Or at least the older one holding a bottle of liquor in one hand was.
I made sure to read them to see if they were a threat. The older one, whom I learned was named Gareb, seemed good natured so I didn’t shoo them away.
“Hey miss,” he said, “is your friend there doin’ okay?”
“He’s not my friend,” I answered, “But he’s been like this for the past ten minutes, I couldn’t just leave him.”
Suddenly Al began to stir. The two vagrants and I watched as he slowly stood back up, muttering someone’s name. “Wanda…”
“Jesus Christ on a crutch what the hell is that!” Gasped the younger homeless, Bobbie, clearly intimidated by Al’s imposing presence as well as the immense display of corpses all around.
“Don’t worry I’m sure he means well,” I stated, “I hope.”
“Whadda ya mean he means ‘well?’” said Bobbie, “You saw what he did to those poor bastards!”
I waved him off, turning my attention back to Al. ‘Wanda’ was that the name of the woman I saw in his thoughts? I wondered.
Gareb approached Al, “Hey mister are you okay?” he asked, “You’ve been screamin’ and moanin’ for ten minutes.”
Al glared at him threateningly as he straightened up, making Gareb and I jump slightly.
“…Wanda…” Al uttered again. “…She’ll know who I am.”
“Easy now,” I said, doubting his words. “You’ve clearly been through a lot in life.”
“Yeah, maybe you should lay down or somethin’ y’know?” agreed Gareb, “Sleep it off. I know how I get, too much thunderbird not dancing naked in time square.”
I couldn’t help but give him a solemn look, Bobbie too. This wasn’t some drunkard looking for a fix, it was a confused and disheartened soul desperately looking for answers. We watched as Al roamed over to the distance deep in thought.
“She’s…my wife.” he spoke, “Wanda.”
Bobbie was busy reprimanding Gareb for trying to offer aid to a potential killer while I went up to Al, reading into his thoughts. Sure enough this woman, Wanda Blake, was his wife at one point but after that not much else. I wanted to say something, that even if he did show himself to her, what were the chances that she’ll be able to recognize him as her late husband? Especially with his face looking the way it did without the mask. But no, not while we were among mortals.
Gareb then walked over to us, offering Al his bottle of liquor, “Maybe what you need is a little hair of the dog to-“ he was cut off when Al aggressively swiped the bottle out of his hand, breaking it against the pavement.
“Get away from me.” He threatened, grabbing Gareb by the collar of his shirt as if about to throttle the poor guy.
“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” I cried, trying to stop Al.
“I’m just tryin’ to help okay?” Choked Gareb.
“Put him down! He means no harm!”
Al scowled at me before snarling in Gareb’s face. “I don’t want your help.” Before tossing the old man aside into Bobbie. He then turned to me, “I don’t know what you want, but you better stay out of my way.” With a swish of his cape he turned and walked away.
I wasn’t going to take that sitting down so I quietly followed from behind.
“What you want and need aren’t the same.” Called another voice from the shadows. A wizened man with a long gray beard appeared before us. I gritted my teeth in anger but said nothing, what the hell was he doing here?!
“This place is a refuge from the maelstrom,” he continued.
“Get outta my way old man.” Growled Al.
“You don’t remember,” said the man, “it doesn’t matter. It’s what you learn now that’s important.”
Who died and made you shaman? I thought to myself as he went on.
There was a pause before Al spoke, “I just wanna go home.” He glared scornfully at the elderly man, “Now move or be moved.”
The old man’s expression became stern, “Listen, we all want to go home my friend. But it’s war getting there.”
With a scowl, Al walked away, vanishing into the shadows, leaving me alone with the old bastard.
“Azara,” he greeted.
“Cog.” I said contemptibly. “And what are you doing here? Come to ruin my life again? Well you’re 80 years late for that old man.”
“This isn’t about you.”
“Then why are you here?”
He turned to the direction Al went, “You’re not the only one whose taken interest in the affairs of the newest hellspawn. There’s a war going about and if we play our cards right, he may prove to be an asset to us.”
I clicked my tongue. “Do I seem like I care about the war? I only do whatever benefits me.”
“What could you possibly have in store for him?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know. Now as much as I’d love to just stand around and listen to some old coot’s lecture, I have a soul to absolve and I’m not about to let you get in my way!”
He said nothing as I turned on my heel after Al.
Cog nodded disappointedly.