Chapter Text
I see you.
That’s what it said.
The thing that took Sasha.
I see you.
I couldn’t see anything anymore. Nothing real. Everything was wrong. My.. palms? had too many fingers, Or maybe.. too few? I couldn’t hear my own voice. Everything was covered in cobwebs. I think I was too. I hadn’t tried to move in a long time.
There was nothing to run to, anyway.
The splitting of wood cut through the thick, empty air.
Then I was out.
A room, with four walls, a floor and a roof. Objects piled around everywhere.
Someone standing in front of me.
“Sasha? SASHA!!! Oh my GOD we thought you were dead!!!” It hugs me, the stranger. Tightly. “Oh, I can’t believe it! Is-is it over? Is it gone?”
I just stare.
“Not even close,” said something else. Something swirling, stretching, bending. It hurt to look at.
“What do you want?”
“There’s no other way out of here, you know” There was a door. The swirling thing gestured to it with something that was too long to be a hand.
“What?” The stranger was still gripping onto me.
“You don’t have time to escape before they get here.”
“The… the… the “Not-Sasha”? No, but the table…”
“Was binding it quite effectively.”
“Oh. Oh no.”
“You know she won’t survive this time.”
The twisting thing looked at me with its too-many eyes.
“If she even made it out in the first place” It waved at me, giggled and grinned more than it should be able. I felt something acrid bubble up into my throat. I looked away and the feeling faded.
The Wrong sang to the stranger from outside.
“I know you have her, John. But she’s ours now.”
I could hear the smile in its voice.
The stranger hesitated, but took us through the door. The swirling mass smiled and laughed. It made my head hurt.
It was darker now. It was tighter now. It was dirt and old air. The stranger cursed.
They clicked a button. Static.
“The tunnels. That’s certainly not ideal. Let’s just hope we can find a way out before s- before the.. ‘Not-You’ finds us. I.. no, no you’re out, that’s good it’s just.. It’s fine. I was wrong but it’s fine.”
I tried to say something. My voice cracked and coughed.
“It’s alright, Sasha, you’ve been through a lot just… follow me and when we’re out of this we’ll get you sorted again. It’s all gonna be okay, alright?”
“Who’s ‘Sasha’?” my mouth said, raspy, barely a whisper, but the stranger heard me. Their face curdled with dread.
“Who’s- you’re Sasha. Oh. oh no-”
“Johhnnnnnnn~,” The Wrong sang again.
We ran. Twisting, turning through the dirt. My arm almost wrenched from my socket when I couldn’t keep up. There were stairs. The stranger found a piece of metal.
“It’s probably not much help, but it’s better than nothing.” They smiled at me, but their eyes were screaming.
I just stared.
“They um… we missed you. Well, regardless of- deep down, I mean. It just didn’t click. I.. I’m sorry, Sasha. We should’ve- I should’ve known. I should’ve realized.”
We heard the song again.
“Oh come now, John. Haven’t you ever heard the saying? Two Sasha’s are better than one! Well, close enough to them anyway.”
“I doubt she’s much of a “Sasha” now either.”
And then it laughed pure sadism, vicious hatred and vitriol. We ran.
“There’s no table to hide away in now, John. I’m going to kill you, I’m going to wear your skin. And there’s no web for you to trap yourself in to get away from me, you made sure of that. No one will even know. Just like you didn’t know what I did to Sasha.”
“SHUT UP!” the stranger screamed.
“There you are.”
The Wrong sprung forward with scuttling terror. The stranger ran, taking me with it and finally fully wrenching my arm from its socket. I screamed.
We reached the end. Dirt all around us. We crunched down and hid as best we could. And The Wrong was right there with us.
“I’m glad we got a chance to run, John. It makes it so much more satisfying.”
“Do you have any idea how long I watched you? You and your little… acolytes. I hated it.”
It smelt like dirt and blood. I don’t know whose.
“Let me tell you a story. You like stories; we can even call it a statement if you want.”
My head was pounding, and my arm wasn’t bending right.
“Once upon a time there was a monster, but no one realised. Sometimes someone did and then they were scared, so that was good. But one day a nasty man came along. A nasty man who tricked the monster and wrapped it all in webs and tied it to a table.”
The stranger had one hand around me and one on the metal.
“So the monster got its friends to carry the table all around, and it still got to take faces and scare people. Then one day it was sent to the house of its enemy, which had the biggest eyes you ever did see. The monster was sent there to steal all its secrets, but it was sad because it couldn’t scare anyone any more.”
Their eyes looked so tired.
“Then finally, after what seemed like forever, a stupid, arrogant, little man cut the webs and set the monster free. Free to kill and scare whoever it wanted.”
And scared. They were tired and scared.
“So thank you. I did leave what clues I could but I never dared hope you would actually release me.”
And then it laughed. A horrible, devastating, broken laugh. The stranger was trying to steady their breathing.
“I must confess, though, I almost enjoyed watching you scurry around. Desperately missing the point. At least I knew what I was looking for. You really aren’t even a shadow of your predecessor. You’re nothing. Even I would make a better Archivist than you.”
The stranger tried not to cry.
“Maybe I will.”
The walls were too dark to see. The floor was almost powdery with dirt. The stranger was staring into the passageway.
“You’ll miss the Unknowing, of course, but you wouldn’t understand it anyway.”
“I’m sorry. Sasha, Martin, Tim, I’m so sorry. I should have… I didn’t… I’m sorry," the stranger whispered.
Then they looked at me.
“God, I’m so sorry.”
It felt so hopelessly sad, like a great failure. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I looked into the passageway.
“I wonder, if I wear you, will I really become the Archivist?”
The Wrong was closer now.
“Rob the eye of its pupil? Probably not.”
I think I started to cry.
“Better to just kill you I think.Yes. I think that would be best.”
“Sasha, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
The stranger held me now. I think they were crying too. They held up the static. I looked back into the passageway. It was cold now.
“Anyone, if you’re still alive… if… if you hear this. Get as far away from the Magnus Institute –”
And it was here. And It was terrible. It sung our elegy with a malice only felt through family. I stared into the nothing and everything and the death of what was left of my identity.
“Found you.”
“No. Please…” The stranger begged the maw for mercy.
“Sorry John, but Sasha isn’t-”
And The Wrong screamed. It writhed and stumbled and hit the dirt. And then it was gone.
Someone stepped in from the passageway.
“Mr. Sims... and co?”
“..Yes?”
“I think it’s time we had a talk”