[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

All right, Jay decided. The most important thing here was the people. He was still pretty much a stranger, and had to rely on other people for information. So getting to meet Hannah today was important. He could look at the keys later tonight, and think about signs tomorrow—at least by doing this, it would mean he’d met all four of the people most closely associated with the four signs on the door, and meant he had access to as unbiased a view of all these things as possible, as a result. Anyway, his goal had been to be like Aunt Grace—to not associate himself with any one cult overly much, and he imagined not ignoring any of the four she clearly was involved with was part of that.

Besides, eldritch things aside, he’d always heard that small towns would notice if you’d snubbed someone. Even if most of the others had in some way come to him, if there were four main cults and he left someone out, it’d just be rude.

But he didn’t need to do it alone. Getting someone’s help would mean he could get things packed up, get down to the antique store, and still have time to socialize with someone—if only just the person he got to help him.

His thoughts immediately went to Louis. Louis was likely to still be home—given both the mysterious heir to a family fortune vibes he gave off and his mentioning that the work he did was from home; plus, he just plain didn’t seem like the sort of guy who got out a lot. Louis had already given him advice about what he could take down to be sold, and had offered to help with the house.

And given that he’d practically run out on the guy after the shocking news of cults, he could probably stand to make a second chance at a first impression. Weird to think that was just this morning.

Anyway, he’d already sent Camden, his other main option, away, and somehow he didn’t think he really wanted to ask Ashesh to help him carry stuff out to the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Ashesh again—something about that wild, overwhelming presence called to him—but in this circumstance, it definitely didn’t seem like a good idea.  

Thus decided—and somewhat feeling the pressure of how little time he had to waste—he headed back over to Louis’s house.

Louis answered after the first knock, which was a little weird, but maybe he’d seen Jay coming. “…You came back.”

“Yeah,” Jay said. He ducked his head, a little embarrassed as he thought back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Well. As you said, it wasn’t anything personal.” Louis folded his hands in front of himself. “You’ve done your thinking, then?”

“I’m still sort of doing it,” Jay admitted. “But I’d like to spend more time with you, and didn’t want you to think… you know. That you’d done anything wrong. Are… are you still up to helping me out with the house?”

Louis tilted his head, apparently curious. “Certainly. You’re still thinking of taking some things down to sell?”

“I have to. Otherwise I’m going to trip over something and die before I can deal with any of this anyway.” Jay said it a bit glibly, but it was, in all honesty, a very real possibility.

“…All right,” Louis said. He took down a peacoat from the coat rack next to the door and pulled it on, untucking his slightly overgrown blond hair from the back, all without disturbing his mask at all. “What do you need done?”

Jay gave him a smile as he lead the way back over to his house, which seemed to surprise Louis, who clutched his coat more tightly around himself. “I was thinking of packing up some of the extra junk. You said not to touch anything uncanny—can you tell?”

“…I can, yes.”

“Then help me find some of the bigger safe items so I can move it out. I can’t unpack any of my stuff until I’ve got rid of some of hers, you know?”

Louis nodded. “That did seem like it might be a problem. All right. We’ll assess vases and tables and all that.”

“And weird old appliances?” Jay joked.

“I don’t know that the antique store will take those,” Louis said. “But we can stop by the thrift store and donate anything they reject, if you like.” From the sound of his voice, he was smiling.

“We might have to,” Jay agreed. He held his door open and gestured with a nervous grandioseness. “Welcome to my home.”

Louis took a step in, looking around slowly: the mess in the hall, Aunt Grace’s shoe where Jay had thrown it, all the rest. “It really still feels like her. We’ll have to change that.”

Jay swallowed. “I guess so,” he admitted. “Let’s take a look at the living room first?”

They did a quick pass through the living room together, Louis declaring this clock, that statuette, this coffee table all unremarkable things, helping Jay pack the smaller items into the bin he’d taken his bedding from earlier, and move the bigger items out to the car.

They were far from done with the living room, but Jay directed him to the kitchen when the car was about half full—after all, he desperately needed counter space if he was going to be able to use the kitchen at all. Louis agreed that the grinder was probably a pasta maker, but it, like the toaster oven and a half-dozen other barely-used appliances, didn’t need to stay.

As Jay came back in from carrying the pasta maker out to the car, he saw Louis standing with a hand on the kitchen table, gazing down at the cover of the book there, not touching it. “My, uh, other immediate neighbor gave that to me,” Jay said. And then, probing a little, “Or rather, the guy who was there while my neighbor was out. I think he might be Nyar—the Crawling Chaos?” That last because he remembered Camden’s warning; he couldn’t really think that naming them would be such a big deal, but then, he wasn’t really sure he wanted to risk it if it were.

“Oh,” Louis said, with a remarkable lack of surprise. “That might be. As I said, I didn’t pry into your other neighbor’s business, but many cults in this world are to him in his myriad aspects. My god has no issue with him; that would also explain why Miss Bowen—who normally lives there—has never had issue with me.”

Just kind of staring at Louis, Jay prompted, “So it’s not weird to you that he came in person? You think that’s likely? That I really did just meet—something like that?”

“Mine cannot come so easily into this world. He? He always has. It’s never been unheard of to meet him.” Louis shrugged. “…I’m sorry, Jay, I’m really not easy to disturb about these things anymore. You’re a decade too late for that.”   

Jay wondered, abruptly, what Louis had been like a decade before. “Do you think I should keep talking to him?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it, personally,” Louis said, “but I don’t serve him, so why would I recommend it? He can be benevolent, if it serves his purposes, and he can be the cruellest thing imaginable. That’s what something having a thousand forms means; you don’t know what one you’ll get at any time.”

“And what about your god?” Jay asked him, quiet. “Is he benevolent or cruel?”

Louis seemed to consider that, the silence stretching too long. Then he just sort of sighed. “I don’t think you can consider him on that scale,” he said. “Entropy and atrophy just are. So is the King in Yellow. There’s a luxury to him that many enjoy, and a decay that many abhor. I don’t consider him evil, but he’s not good.”

“You don’t sound very devoted.”

“Oh, but I am,” Louis said, putting a hand over his heart. “Why would you love something that you lie to yourself about?”

That was fair enough, Jay supposed. He glanced over the cleared counter. “Well, come on,” he said. “That’s about all my car can hold. Let’s get this downtown.”

They finished packing the bin in the car, and Louis climbed into the passenger seat. Jay took a moment to contemplate the elegant curve of Louis’s ear where his hair, and the string from the mask, had tucked behind it, then got the car in gear.

The trip only took about twenty minutes—even coming from the edge of town, it wasn’t a long way, and Louis’s directions helped him get there quickly. He parked the car right outside the store. “Can you help me bring things in?”

For a moment, Louis hesitated. “I don’t know that I should—” But then he shrugged, as if his own reticence didn’t bother him any, and got out. “Sure.”

“It’s just that I’ll need to talk to, uh, Miss Dylan? About the goods, and—”

“And other things,” Louis said. “I’ll take them in and then go for a walk.”

“Thanks,” Jay said, grateful.

He helped Louis carry the bin in, then left Louis to help get the rest of the items wrangled out of the car and deposited as he looked around the shop.

It seemed surprisingly normal—he’d built himself up a little, imagining the type of antique stores you saw in horror movies, but it had the big open windows and clean counters he would have expected from one back home in Seattle. A variety of glass cases marked out browsing corridors, each filled with trinkets, dolls, and glassware; in a second room further back, he could see furniture and appliances.

“Miss Dylan?” he called out toward that room.

“You must be Jay Park.”

He jumped at the sound of her voice coming from right behind him, and turned to see a young woman grinning at him. She was around thirty, with short red hair, a face full of freckles, and visible fangs in her broad smile. She was wearing a flowery tunic dress over leggings, and was definitely cute, albeit in a way that reminded him absurdly of, of all people, Wolfsbane from the X-Men comics.

Kind of werewolfy.

“Hi,” he said. “Um… how did you know?”

“Not a huge number of Asian people here,” she said bluntly, which, to be fair, he’d noticed too. “Let alone any I haven’t met, let alone any who called ahead to say they were going to bring stuff over today or tomorrow. Let alone any as cute as their voice implied. Oh, I see you’ve got his lordship at your beck and call!”

Louis appeared to ignore the comment; Jay glanced between them. “He lives next door,” Jay said weakly. “He’s been very kind to me.”

“That’s a surprise!” she said. She offered a hand, tipped with, yes, definitely talons. “Anyway, call me Hannah. ‘Miss Dylan’ is my maiden aunt.”

“Uh—yeah,” Jay said. He took her hand and shook it. “Sorry, I thought you’d be older.”

“Because of the antique shop? Yeah, my aunt owns it, but these days she doesn’t do much. Took the wrong item in too carelessly. Now she doesn’t really show her face out and about anymore.” Hannah wrinkled her nose, like it was a great joke.

Jay desperately sought for something to say. “That sounds, uh—”

“I mean, hey, I get to own my own business at twenty-nine,” Hannah said. “So you know, looking on the bright side here. You want me to assess these things? Some of them are likely to be junk, but hey, you’re Grace’s boy, I’ll see what I can do.”

“If that’s okay,” Jay said. They both watched as Louis silently brought the last of Jay’s items in, inclined his head, and headed back out without another word. “And I also wanted to just… talk to you about some things?”

Hannah crouched, starting to dig through the bin Jay had brought. “Oh, yes, Mother said you might. What can I do you for?”

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.]

[Previous Day: Day 14. Next Day: Day 16]

 

[Ps: My novella Only Human is releasing tomorrow at 7 pm EST! It’s available for preorder at 15% off until that time.] 

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Jay turned his hand over under Camden’s, taking it and giving it a squeeze. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “You’re right, I think. I’m letting myself get kind of overwhelmed and that’s no good. I’ll try to remember to put some time in to relax and make things normal again.”

Camden flushed, glancing aside at him. “Okay. Good.”

“And I want to take you up on your offer,” Jay said, more gently. Camden seemed a little unused to compliments or affection, and he didn’t want to overwhelm the other man, or make him think Jay was coming onto him when he wasn’t. Finding a balance of appreciation without embarrassing him seemed tricky. He squeezed again, then pulled his hand back. “But I don’t even know enough to do that.”

Camden nodded slowly. “Like, you, uh. Don’t know what to ask for help with?”

“Right, exactly,” Jay said. He cracked his neck, stretching it. “I think what I really need to focus on right now, if you can help with this, is figuring out the main factions. I’m guessing there’s Nyarlathotep—” Maybe next door, he didn’t say. “—and Hastur, and if you and your sister count, the Deep Ones. What others? I met a woman in my dreams who… was probably Keziah, and she said she had an agent in town. Do you know who that might be?”

Making a face, Camden shifted uncomfortably on the loveseat. “I personally wouldn’t name them all so openly,” he muttered, “but I mean, I already got attention I don’t want. Ummm. You’ll probably want to talk to the most powerful person in the area for each cult rather than working your way through. People less involved are often more suspicious of outsiders because they’ve got less control, so I wouldn’t go blabbing about this to just everyone, if I were you. It could go… badly?”

Badly how, Jay didn’t ask. “Ugh. Noted.”

“For the Dream Witch,” Camden said hesitantly, “I think the person you want to talk to is probably Hannah Dylan? Hannah runs the antique shop in town. There are others as well, yeah, though I don’t know if they’re as…approachable. There’s a small but fervent group here dedicated to the Gate, The Key, and the Guardian; they run most of the town groceries. It’s their family business; the cult, um, he keeps it all in one family, mostly. I don’t think you want to get involved with them, but ask after old Wilbur Whateley if you do. Outside of town, most of the farmers give thanks to the Black Goat of the Woods for their fortune. I’m not sure who’s best to talk to there, I don’t… know anyone personally.”

This was way too many eldritch gods already. Jay wrinkled his nose. “I guess I’ll think about if it’s necessary,” he said. “Do you know anything about the dreamscape other than what you told me already? Anything to help me get around there?”

Shaking his head, Camden said, “Sorry. I, uh, don’t know much about that side of things. Everything for me has been really, um. Physical.”

“Right. That’s fair. It’s just that to get there, there’s four Signs—” he realized he might be about to say too much and got up, pacing. “I saw something about that, anyway. So I don’t know if I want to start talking to cults past those, at least not yet. And I think I’ve met someone from each of those except Keziah’s group, so maybe I should meet that Hannah next. Besides, I was planning on running down some of Aunt Grace’s stuff to the antique shop anyway.”

Camden glanced around at the mess that still filled every possible surface of the house, then offered Jay a somewhat sickly smile. “I can see why.”

“Right? Maybe later I’ll need help just moving this junk,” Jay said, and smiled back. “For now, though, honestly, I think I need the space to decide what to do most of all. I really appreciate the offer for help but I don’t want you to pull you into all this.”

Eyes widening, Camden nodded. “…That’s kind of you,” he said. “But, uh, I did mean it. Outsiders got to stick together.”

Does someone cursed by the Deep Ones really count as an outsider? Jay closed his mouth on the words unsaid. Camden had run away here to try to get away from all that; why had he come here, of all places, to do so? But still, Jay understood how he might feel like an outsider anyway. Not his city, not his gods, and he just wanted a better life for his sister, even if he couldn’t get one himself. Respectable, even if Jay felt like maybe there was more to it than Camden was saying.

“Thank you,” he said. “Seriously. If I need help with something, I’ll remember the offer and get in touch—though, uh, where do you live? I’ve checked in with the neighbors on either side, so I’m not exactly sure how close you are…?”

“Oh, jeez.” Camden flushed a mottled red. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m just down the street, at 1028. I’ll, uh, give you my number?”

Jay smiled at him encouragingly. “That’ll do,” he said. He dug his cell phone out and put it into his contacts as Camden said it aloud. “Sorry, I don’t mean to seem like I’m kicking you out after you came by to offer help and bring me the flowers and all.”

“No, of course,” Camden said, flushing harder, almost croaking. “I gotta pick Candace up from school anyhow. I’ll talk to you later? Remember to take care of yourself. And remember you’re not alone.”

“I’ll remember it, thanks,” Jay said. He rose, seeing Camden to the door. “…And seriously, I really do appreciate it. I could use a friend around here, so… I’m grateful.”

“I can be that,” Camden agreed, ducking his head. “Luck, Jay.”

“You too.”

Once Jay had the door locked behind Camden, he headed back to the kitchen and frowned down at the book that had occupied so much of his afternoon.

Talking to Camden had definitely been helpful—finding out who Keziah’s agent probably was could be super useful—but he realized that he had a limited amount of time to do things tonight. If he started right away, he could pack up a bunch of Aunt Grace’s stuff and use it as an excuse to start talking to Hannah Dylan, but if he did anything else first, he wouldn’t have time to get there before the antique shop closed for the afternoon. Going down without bringing anything might still be okay, of course, but would still take time and a trip into the city, and might put her more on her guard than if he had a legitimate reason to visit her business.

And then there were the keys. Ashesh had given them to him, so he was sure they’d be important, but if he tried to find where the new keys went right away, in case any of that would be of use or interest to Hannah, or for his own purposes, he would run out of time to see her today.

And there was the question of if he wanted to try to hunt down at least one Elder Sign tonight, before he slept again. That would also take time, and he wasn’t sure how much of it, or when to start—let alone where to start, though Louis might be a good choice to get his hands on the sign.

Among other things, he couldn’t help but think, and found himself flushing. Focus, he told himself, indignantly.

And if he didn’t go for a sign, he might want to see what he could find of Aunt Grace’s on dreaming, on seeing what could help with that, since he might need to be practicing his dream-walking without the protection of a sign or using the door. Which should still be possible, he reminded himself; he was just more aware of its dangers now, and the librarian—Keziah, maybe—wouldn’t let him take any information away from the library without a sign.

Then on top of those things, as Camden had pointed out, he might want to leave himself enough time to decompress. To not let this take over his mind and his health and leave nothing else left.

And all those things would be way too many things to do in one night. He had to decide what to do immediately, and at least make a rough plan of what he should do later tonight, and what to leave for another day.

Ugh.

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.]

[Previous Day: Day 13. Next Day: Day 15.]

[P.S. Enjoying this so far and interested in other halloweeny stories I’ve written? I have a post highlighting a couple of my stories; check it out over here! One of them, Only Human, releases in 2 days!]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Jay took a deep breath and felt himself relax a little. A wave of relief rushed over him as he reached out to take the vase. “Thanks, Camden,” he said, and heard his voice come out a little shaky. “This is really kind of you.”

It was a good reminder: no matter what was going on with cults and gods and signs and the end of the world, there were still good folks who wanted to help each other. It was easy to get caught up in all this, and in the paranoia of not knowing of who he could trust or what they wanted from him. But there was more than just that.

Camden licked his lips, tilting his head slightly. “You, uh, look stressed. You okay?”

Jay hesitated on what to say; on the one hand, of course he had the impulse to avoid talking about any of this to anyone. He’d sound absolutely nuts. On the other hand—Camden was also a relatively new arrival, according to Louis, only here for a few years, and was aware of the ‘factions’ while being in one of his own rather than anyone else’s. It was possible he’d have something of an outside perspective, and Jay also wasn’t sure he could get much insight on whatever was going on with Camden’s perspective without talking to him directly.

“I’m not okay,” Jay admitted. He looked down at the vase; it was an assortment of flowers that looked to have been arranged professionally, not plucked from a garden. “Can I talk to you about some stuff?”

“Uh.” Camden shifted on the step, but nodded, rubbing his hands together where he had them clasped. “Sure. I mean, you know, I came over to see if there was, uh, anything I can do for you, so… sure?”

“Thanks. Shut the door behind you?” Jay carried the vase in, though he turned back before he could entirely leave Camden’s line of sight. As much as he hoped to have a sympathetic ear in Camden, without knowing more, he didn’t want to leave anyone from this town alone in his house, with whatever strange supernatural things Aunt Grace might have owned.

Camden entered, shutting and locking the door, and looked around. “She really, uh, she was always real bad at cleaning up.”

“Way too much,” Jay agreed. “It’s worse than I remember as a kid, but she probably tidied for family visits and stuffed her junk in other rooms. Living room?”

He led the way out there, putting the vase beside the fireplace mantle, letting out a sigh as he sank down onto the couch. Camden followed him in, then perched on the edge of the chair there, hands on his knees, shoulders hunched.

“I’ve been hearing some strange things about the town,” Jay began. “About… well. Frankly, about cults.”

“Oh. Yeah,” Camden muttered. “I didn’t want to lead with that? You know, just say, cults? It’s weird as hell and super freaky and I thought maybe, they’d, um, leave you out of all that. You’re not your great-aunt. The worst thing would be if… if you were taking over her role just because… she wasn’t here?”

“What was my aunt’s role?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Camden said. He fidgeted, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the hardwood floor. “Being an outsider, maybe.”

Jay leaned back, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling. “I don’t know what you mean?”

“I don’t know if I do either,” Camden admitted. He sighed, slumping further in his chair. “She was good at giving advice without committing. Said she had her own interests to watch out for. I think she was a master of a dream realm.”

“Dreams again,” Jay said. “I don’t know what that is. A dream realm.” He tilted his head forward to watch Camden. “But I think it’s important?”

Camden dragged one broad finger against the arm of the chair he was sitting in. “I haven’t done it myself,” he protested. “But the… the gods people worship here, they’re from other worlds, originally. From… from somewhere far away. And some of them stay on this world and some stay on other worlds, but the dreamlands spread between all worlds so they’re, um, they’re… a way for even those gods and their creatures to get around, to spread their worship. And most people don’t go far enough into the dreamlands to leave their own… area? I guess. They just dream, their unconscious mind fiddles around with their memories and the things they have to work through and toys around with the stuff of dreams to let that happen. But some people can walk around the dreamlands. And some really advanced ‘waking-worlders’ can lay claim to a place in dreams. And some can make their own worlds. Everyone said that Miss Grace was a waking-worlder, and since she vanished, they all say that instead of dying, she chose create her own kingdom to live in.”

Jay couldn’t quite keep himself from grimacing. “Like ‘she went to live on a farm’?”

“Does sound like that kind of thing, huh,” Camden said. He, too, grimaced; it was a little more grotesque on him. “I don’t know if it’s real or not. I don’t know about much of this.”

“Who do you worship?” Jay asked, quiet. Not entirely sure he wanted to know.

“I don’t want to worship anyone,” Camden said. He ducked his head further. “My hometown, the community there, they worship these ocean gods, the progenitors of a race of undersea… things. But we’re cursed because of it.”

Cursed… Jay winced, sympathetic and out of his depth. “Louis said you had a… a condition.”

“Louis doesn’t know when to shut up,” Camden mumbled. He sighed, running fingers through his greasy hair. “They say our people have children with the deep ones. The things who live underwater, their blood runs through our veins. We start out looking normal and then slowly change to become more like them. We get drawn to the water, until eventually…”

“Eventually?” Jay asked, wide-eyed.

“I don’t know,” Camden said. “We go under. Maybe we drown down there. I thought maybe if we’re away from our community it won’t happen. Everyone else refused to go, so I took Candace and left.”

An uneasy feeling was swelling in Jay’s chest. “Your sister?”

“Yeah. She still looks human,” Camden said.

“So do you,” Jay said.

“Do I?” Camden made a face.

Jay made sure his voice was coming out firmly. “Dude, you absolutely do,” he said. “I imagine you probably have… changed so you see the ways you’ve changed most, but I wouldn’t have thought you weren’t human.”

“Just ugly, right?” Camden asked. He held up a hand. “Sorry, don’t—sorry. I know there’s no way you can answer that.”

“Sorry,” Jay said too. “It’s just… I don’t know what to say. Anyway, I’ve definitely seen worse. I bet you’d clean up well.”

Camden flushed. “Well, I basically avoid submerging myself in water, just in case, so that’s not really something I’m great about doing either.”

“Hydrophobic?”

“Want it too much.”

“Jeez,” Jay said. “Sorry. I know it’s personal.”

Camden shrugged a shoulder. “…I guess it’s better that you learn about it,” he said. “If these things are all piling up, you should know whatever you think you need to know to have it help. And…”

“And?”

“I don’t… nnn.” Camden sighed, then slapped his knees with his hands, straightening up more. “Listen, this stuff, all the things about it, cults and gods and dreams and curses, it’ll eat at you. It’s hard to keep yourself healthy with all of this battering around in your head. Believe me, I know. You should walk away from it.”

“I’m not sure I can,” Jay blurted out. “Someone told me the world was going to end.”

“—What?”  Camden stared at him, bulging eyes wide.

“I don’t know! All he said was our world was going to end, and I didn’t have much time, and I needed to… learn? Investigate?” Jay picked at a torn thread on the couch, desperate to have something to do with his fingers. “I don’t know what’s expected of me. I think it has something to do with the dream world and I need to find some sort of sign so I can go into the dream world without putting myself at risk, and maybe I’ll learn more when I do that. But I don’t want to ally myself with any particular cult, but also I don’t want to alienate anyone, and I can’t go too slowly or the world might end and I don’t know if Aunt Grace left this to me on purpose—”

Camden rose, then came over, joining Jay on the love-seat. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, okay.” He put a clammy hand over Jay’s, preventing him from picking. “You’re not alone.”

That cut off Jay’s rant, the building pressure in his chest draining. “What?”

“If you have to be involved with this stuff,” Camden said slowly, “Lean on people where you can. Don’t… trust everyone, obviously, but don’t take it all on yourself. Being alone in this is a good way to completely lose it. I’ll help if I can?”

Jay swallowed; the pressure in his chest had seemed, actually, to shift to his throat, and was a scratchy lump there. “I don’t know,” he said.

“It’s fine if you don’t want me to,” Camden said. “But then, like… stop sometimes. Even if you’re in a hurry, smell some flowers. Read something normal. Email your parents.” He gave Jay what was surely meant to be an encouraging smile. “Keep in touch with normal things. And if you do want me to help you investigate just… tell me what you want me to do. If you want me doing things with, or just being there, or not being there, whatever helps you out the most… I’ll see what I can manage.”

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.]

[Previous Day: Day 12. Next Day: Day 14.]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Jay stared at Ashesh’s closed door and tried to process what had just happened.

Okay, he thought distantly. So he met a guy with an unnaturally overpowering presence who mysteriously implied he’d been ‘invited’ here, magically made keys and books appear, and apparently was affiliated with a cult without being part of a cult. And claimed the world was about to end, that also was a thing.

Was it crazy for him to think that this guy might not be human? Normally, yes, it would be nuts. But under the circumstances…

Dazedly, Jay headed back to his house. He’d been planning on seeing who else was around a few houses down, or even go into the city, but everything felt really big, really overwhelming, and really just… too much. He needed time to deal with this and wasn’t sure he was up to starting something new.

Besides, it sounded like he had things to deal with at home.

As he opened the door, he compared the new set of keys to his old, lining them up. Two of the keys—the two longer ones—were the same as those he’d already had, which only raised more questions. If this guy was an eldritch god, why would he bother giving Jay keys he already had copies of? Had Grace actually had him housesit, and these keys were really spares she’d loaned him, and if so, what had she known about him? Or was it meant to put him at ease? Or the opposite, was it meant to freak him out? Imply that Ashesh had been inside the house whenever—even last night, when Jay was sleeping?

Fuck all of this.

His first impulse was to just go back to bed and take a nap, wake up when the world made sense again, but the idea was itself frightening. If he fell asleep in that house, would he end up in the library again? Without bearing a sign, and without opening the door, would he be safe? The woman in the library had implied not.

It was only midday; would he even be able to find ‘a sign’ before tonight? Did he want to? Should he sleep somewhere else? He could probably afford a hotel—he wanted to watch his finances, but they couldn’t be too expensive out here in Kingsport. Or—

He made a face at himself. Louis would probably let him stay over, but he wasn’t sure that was a great idea either.

Jay’s head felt too full, scratchy with anxiety, thoughts chasing each other around and around. Suddenly needing to vent it, he grabbed his pillow from one of his moving bins and screamed into it until he started to feel silly, then dropped it, taking a deep breath.

One thing at a time, he decided. He could shelve the issue of sleeping until he saw how the rest of the day went. The morning had already been wild, a scattered thing, and he needed to focus down on each next step.

First up, food. His breakfast had been fine, but it was almost noon now. He grabbed his cold pizza from the fridge—cheeseless pizza at least meant that it needed heating up less than most—and sat at the crowded kitchen table, pushing things away to make space.

And then he cracked open the book that Ashesh had given him.

As soon as he opened it, he understood why Ashesh had warned him that it might be hard to use without knowing at least a few names of things to have a place to start. Each entry was about some obscure monster, god, creature, or place, all of which sounded made up and fantastical. He flipped through aimlessly for a few moments; while the idea that all of these things might be real was terrifying, it was impossible to tell what was relevant to him.

Focus, he reminded himself. He had heard a few terms, and he could see if those were in there.

The Phantom of Truth — see the Pallid Mask. Already promising, if that was the word for something like this. But Louis had tied those two concepts together, and if this book did too, that had to mean something. He flipped through.

The Pallid Mask — paraphernalia worn by the messenger associated with Hastur, the King in Yellow. There is little consistency with the appearance or behavior of this messenger, save that they generally are ritualistically associated with the potential arrival of the King in Yellow. Research indicates that the Pallid Mask is originally meant to indicate the role of the Stranger in the play ‘The King in Yellow’, a performance that is said to endlessly be enacted on Carcosa, but was also published in English in a short print run in 1895.

That gave Jay more to look up, even if he felt pretty bad about all of it.

Hastur (The King in Yellow, The Feaster from Afar, the Shepherd God, The Unspeakable One, Him Who Is Not to be Named, Assatur, Xastur, H’aaztre, Kaiwan, or The King in Yellow) – An Old One who is sometimes described as a god, a place, or an object. A silent watcher who, as many of its kind, will drive to madness those who look directly upon him. Sometimes he is considered the god of the world of Carcosa, and sometimes another term for Carcosa itself. His presence is marked by the discovery of one of the Elder Signs, the Yellow Sign.

The pizza felt rubbery in his mouth. He forced himself to keep chewing as he flipped to a new section.

Elder Signs – Sigils or symbols of the Old Ones, Elder Beings, the Deep Ones, and other forgotten and chthonic deities. The below list is partial; some may be multiple forms of the same sign, or may be misrepresentations. Use this list with caution.

There followed a long list of symbols, many of which were rendered nearly incomprehensible with ink blots in the printing of them. Jay skimmed them, looking for the symbols that he had seen on the door. It took him some time, but he was able to find all four.

The twisted ‘triangle’ made from two question marks and another warped line was the Yellow Sign, the symbol of Hastur. The reverse ankh was a symbol of a god named Nyarlathotep, while the branch/seaweed was a mark of something called the Deep Ones. The warped star with the flaming eye in the middle was listed as an unknown Elder Sign, often used for protection against other gods, and for protections in dreams; as such, it was associated with a being called Keziah, the Witch of Dreams.

This only gave Jay more to look up, and he was feeling worse and worse about all he read, almost skimming at this point. Keziah’s entry described an ancient god who took on the form of an attractive young woman who had existed since the creation of the earth, a witch who haunted places she had been through dreams. The Deep Ones’ entry described an immortal race of undersea beings; Nyarlathotep’s entry described a shape-shifting, malign deity called the Crawling Chaos, an outer god who was unusual in that he preferred to walk among humans in disguise as one of them, and who stood outside the usual pantheon by acting as the messenger of the Outer Gods, enacting their will, possibly due to his role as the their prince, the child of the ruler of the Outer Gods, Azathoth.

Jay’s head was swimming, and that feeling of scratching was back, as if all his thoughts were clawing to get out, swarming over each other. He wanted to laugh and to cry. None of this was real; it couldn’t be. It was all a fantasy someone had cooked up and written about, not something he’d wandered into, not something he had to accept as part of his reality, not something he had to deal with.

A knock came at his door and for a moment he wanted to run and hide. He didn’t think he could face dealing with anyone else, anything else.

But it came again and he hauled himself out of the chair, desperate to tell whoever was there to go away. He knew his hair was messy—he’d been running his hands through it over and over as he read—and he had no idea what expression was on his face as he yanked the door open.

Camden gave him a nervous smile. “U-uh, hi,” he said. He held out a vase of flowers. “I, um, thought, I was thinking it, um, you were probably working hard and might be, um, feeling kind of alone in, um, in the house of someone you cared about w-who’s gone now, and wanted, uh, wanted to get you something to cheer you up. I also, uh, i also moved here from somewhere else, so I, uh, you know, I get it. I was wondering if, um, there was anything I could help you with?”

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.]

[Previous Day: Day 11. Next Day: Day 13.]

[P.S. Enjoying this so far and interested in other halloweeny stories I’ve written? I have a post highlighting a couple of my stories; check it out over here!]

[Please read the instructions before jumping in!]

Part of Jay tried to analyse this feeling of overwhelming presence. His impulse was, oddly, to trust it. The woman in the library had mentioned having an agent in town; perhaps this was that person. And if not, maybe it at least meant it was related to that dream in some way. He should, he decided, try to pay attention to that feeling when it happened.

The rest of him was finding that attentiveness, that attraction, to be really damn hot, and it was very quickly overruling the rest of him.

“Good, great,” Jay found himself saying. “Fantastic. Love the shirt.”

“Thanks!” Ashesh said. “Technophobes are my pet peeve. There’s no use in being trapped in the old ways if we don’t update them for the future.”

“I completely agree,” Jay said. “Programmer. I mean, I am a programmer.” He was making an idiot of himself, but was having a hard time not babbling. “Though right now I’m just, uh, trying to settle in here. So I’m, you know, going around, meeting the neighbors.”

Ashesh’s smile brightened, his eyes twinkling. “Well, nice to meet you,” he said. “I’m not actually one of your neighbors, but I hope you’re willing to meet me anyway.”

“Very willing.” Jay drew a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. “What do you mean? Just visiting?”

“Something like that. I was invited over,” Ashesh said with a shrug. “But the homeowner had to leave on a trip, so I’m staying here in the meantime.”

Jay nodded. “Housesitting, huh.”

“Sure, housesitting,” Ashesh said. He gestured. “You want to come in?”

There was no reason not to; he was here to get to know people. Even if Ashesh might not be his actual neighbor, he was still here for the time being, and he too might have some information if he was around often enough. “Sure, I’ll come wherever you want.”

Laughing, Ashesh said, “Is that so.”

His ears caught up with his mouth. “I, uh—I just meant, I’m happy to come in, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Is that what you meant… no, it’s no intrusion, come on in. Coffee?”

Jay wasn’t sure that more caffeine was a great idea at this rate, but it was a good excuse to sit and have a conversation. “Sure,” he said. “Sounds good.”

Ashesh led the way into the living room next to the entrance, the front window looking out over his—or, Jay supposed, the owner’s—lawn. “Take a seat,” Ashesh said, gesturing to the living room generally.

Unlike Louis’s place, the furniture here was more modernized. Not exactly minimalist, and there was a rich rug in the middle of the floor, but it didn’t have a feeling of old, ostentatious wealth about it. Jay took a seat in the armchair, because the other option was the couch, and if he took that, Ashesh might sit with him, and at this point Jay didn’t trust himself to not shuffle closer.

Ashesh headed into the kitchen, and the weight of his presence lifted. Jay took a few breaths, trying to get himself under control, antsy and nervous and, frankly, horny. It was like, on seeing Ashesh, all his panic and anxiety had converted straight into hormones.

Like being a teenager all over again, he thought at himself, wryly.

Shortly after that, just when Jay had been about to pull out his phone to occupy himself, Ashesh came back in carrying two cups and a small copper pot with a long handle. It took Jay a moment to place it. “Turkish coffee?”

“I prefer it. Is that all right?” Ashesh glanced over with his brows raised, hands halted right before pouring.

“No, it’s great. I haven’t had it before myself,” Jay said. “But I mean, today’s a day for new things.”

“Oh, then you do have to try it.” Ashesh poured for them both, handing Jay a cup and then perching on the edge of the sofa cushion. “So you’re meeting the neighbors?”

Jay took a sip, overwhelmed for a moment by the rich strength of the coffee and the unexpected undercurrent of cardamom. He licked the foam off his upper lip, and tried to decide exactly what to say.

But—and maybe it was this newfound recklessness speaking, he wasn’t sure—he didn’t feel like playing coy would get him far. He needed information, and maybe he would offend Ashesh, he wasn’t sure, but being straightforward had worked for him so far.

“I just got back from meeting Louis,” Jay said. “He seems nice, if a little odd. But, ah, he told me some strange things about this town.”

“Oh, yes, he would,” Ashesh agreed. He took a sip of his own coffee with visible pleasure; Jay watched his tongue swipe some foam away from his lips. “Yes, he’s nice enough. Not one of my boys, but nice enough. What did he say?”

“Well. Uh, that there were a bunch of cults in town to elder gods.”

“True,” Ashesh said. “I mean, it’s not something most people talk about, because they don’t have to, and I’m surprised he trusted an outsider that much that quickly. Then again, you are Grace’s boy.”

Jay let out a nervous laugh. “I guess so,” he said. “I’m sort of trying to figure some things out about that.”

“Have you explored Grace’s house yet?” Ashesh asked, lifting a brow.

There was a pointed edge to that comment that gave Jay pause. “I’ve started to,” he said, with a touch more caution. “But I sort of feel like I have to split my time. Grace was obviously an important figure in this community.”

“Right, for sure,” Ashesh said, his tone gone thoughtful. “She willed you the house and everything in it, though. You’ve been at least to all the rooms?”

“I… haven’t been to the attic yet,” Jay said. He leaned back in the chair, watching Ashesh with a thrill as he licked the rim of his cup, eyes fixed on Jay’s face. “Everywhere else I’ve at least been through.”

Ashesh nodded, lips curving against the rim. “I’ve housesat for her before, so I know what you’re dealing with. Messy place. Hard to figure out where to start.”

“You housesit for a lot of people?” Jay asked.

“It’s a hobby,” Ashesh said, grinning again. He put his cup down on the table, leaning toward Jay, his hands sliding down his thighs as if to smooth his trousers. “Here, maybe I can help you.”

“Help me—?”

Ashesh turned one of his hands over, and Jay saw that he was holding a set of keys. “Here,” he said lightly, tossing them.

Jay failed to catch them, and put the half-finished cup down as he bent to pick them up instead. “What’s this?”

“The keys she loaned me before she left,” Ashesh said. “I don’t know if your set is complete, but I doubt it. These should help get you into a few places that you might not otherwise be able to.”

Sure enough, there were four keys on the ring, not just the two he’d had. “Thanks,” he said, surprised. “I have had a bit of trouble with locks.”

Ashesh nodded, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over his knee. “As well as the duplicates to the ones I assume you already have, that should help you in the attic and the office,” he said. “Grace would want you to be able to get around there; it’s just that she wouldn’t have wanted to risk others getting into it before you.”

“She didn’t trust others, but she trusted you?” Jay asked. He flushed a little. “I don’t mean to say that she wouldn’t! If you housesat for her, obviously there’s that, just, I don’t really know what her relationship was with anyone here. Everyone’s said she didn’t play favorites or take sides, so—”

“I’m not offended,” Ashesh said lightly. “I don’t think she was stupid enough to trust me, but she knows I meant her no harm.” He rose, stretching, then took a couple of quick steps over to Jay.

Jay squirmed as Ashesh put his hands on the arms of the chair, blockading him in with his slim body. This close, he was overwhelming; he smelled of the coffee he’d been brewing, all strong grounds and sweet cardamom, and he blocked the overhead light, casting Jay in shadow. “I—what are you…?”

Ashesh’s lips brushed Jay’s forehead lightly, sending a rush of heat through his body. “You’re delightful,” Ashesh said.

And then he tapped Jay’s leg with a book he was, apparently, holding. Jay hadn’t seen him pick it up, but he took it obediently. “You might find this useful,” Ashesh said cheerily, and stood up again.

Jay tried to catch his breath, staring down at the book with his cheeks burning. The title was The Laws of the Dead, and its author someone named Abdul Alhazred, who Jay hadn’t heard of previously. “What’s this?”

“It’ll answer your questions. Not about the specific cults here, but in general, it’s a good collection of information, if not always accurate. Maybe too much information for your purposes,” Ashesh said. He stretched again, his t-shirt riding up to show a small stretch of stomach that Jay tried not to stare fixedly at. “It’s basically an encyclopedia. Once you’ve got something to go off of—a few names of cults, servants, gods, and all that—and you’ll be able to learn more without having to go around grilling literally everyone and getting yourself in trouble.”

“Where did—how did—” Jay’s voice cracked.

“Finish your coffee,” Ashesh said, tone mischievous.

Blushing hard, Jay picked up his cup again and downed it, sucking what beverage was left between his teeth and leaving the grounds behind, though his mouth came away gritty regardless. He swallowed, and put the cup on the table. “…Thank you,” he said.

“You’re most welcome. Go and explore more before talking to me again,” Ashesh said. It was still in that light, playful tone, but there was a bit of finality to it, and Jay realized he was being dismissed.

If he’d had any doubts about that, he’d have lost them a moment later when Ashesh rose, taking both cups and putting them on his tray, then offering his free hand to help Jay up.

Fumbling keys and book, Jay took it. “But I can talk to you again?”

“Sure. Whenever I’m around, so long as you’re keeping things fresh and interesting.” Ashesh slid his hand out of Jay’s, then put an arm around him, steering him back toward the door. “Which is why I’m not sure I’ll enjoy talking to you too much more just yet. Open some locks, find some signs, talk to some more people, look some things up—any one of those things might give us a bit more of a common basis to talk about things with. As things are, you’ve barely gotten started, have you? But we don’t have much time left.”

Jay let himself be steered to the front porch again, then turned before Ashesh could get a hand on the door. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, your world will end soon,” Ashesh said. “I’d rather that not happen, but there’s only so much I can do.”

He said it so lightly, with that little smile lingering around his lips and his eyes twinkling, that Jay could hardly take it seriously. Still…

Jay put a hand on the door, resisting it closing. “One last thing?”

“Is it my phone number~? Oh, darling, you have to earn that, but I’m willing to answer your calls,” Ashesh said, almost purring.

Jay flushed again. “No. What—what cult are you in? Whose?”

“Oh, sweet child,” Ashesh said, an edge of mocking to his tone. “I’m not in a cult.”

And he shut the door.

[Please suggest an action in the Comments.]

[Previous Day: Day 10. Next Day: Day 12.]