Hunting Midnight • Ep 6 • Part 9: Help 🦞
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Part 6-9: Help
Every fiber in me wanted to draw out my rapier and go ham on the splayed figure. Yet, that single kernel of wise, wise sobriety knew that this wasn’t a fight.
That damn kernel had saved me before—albeit in less intense circumstances—so I saved myself some flailing embarrassment and chose instead to be standoffish, folding my arms and keeping my distance.
Fergus and The Minder trooped onward, arriving at the bottom of the stairs and waiting for Eden to make notice of us.
It took awhile. Like we were visiting an infirm aunt in the hospital, the murdering demon stirred, raised its head, huffed, then fell back to rest.
“They’re here,” said The Minder.
Silence, for a good while: enough time for me to twist around a few times and absorb my surroundings. Walls here were darker grey, it seemed. It felt church-like, but with all the pews removed. The windows were slits. Not stained glass, but more like strips of dull, glow in the dark tape. Painted and filled in—a lazy MS Paint job. But they’d colour matched well enough: Eden blue, through and through.
Finally, it spoke.
“Interesting, times.”
“You overheard the predicament, I surmise?” said The Minder.
The ghost waved a hand, best it could. “I hear, all. They must, choose. Who, to trust.”
“I trust fuck all, besides my friends,” I clarified. “But I’ll admit I need some options, because once we leave this lovely resort, we’ll be at the mercy of these suits, and it seems like they’re armed with all they need to crush us both. I’ve some tricks, but once they ice my body, game over.”
“She is, of so much, energy,” said Eden.
I bit back a slur, concerned that it might confirm the diagnosis. Fergus did not help by snickering and kicking at the floor. It also did not help that I enjoyed his reaction.
“I suggest we move forward with the lesson?” suggested The Minder. He sidestepped away from us, bowing as he did so. “Though I’d be thrilled to continue as your tutor, I do think my colleague may be best suited for the time being.”
“In time,” said Eden. “First, talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” I spat, before I remembered that this was probably a diplomatic affair.
“Alena please, the lesson,” said The Minder.
“Fine. What’s on your mind Eden? Have some tips on how to topple a government? Maybe torture a kitten?”
“It is about, our worlds outside.” Its head tilted towards the windows.
“Our worlds?”
“I was, not made here.”
“That occurred to me. Where’s home sweet home then?”
Eden was silent once more. Fergus watched us, mirth replaced with a rare look of concern. I glanced at The Minder, who was studying the floor. Did he seem a touch concerned as well?
“Need help,” Eden said at last. “For knowing… home. Where is it? Beyond. The veil, perhaps. This is a phrase in your world, close, but not… the right phrase.”
“It’s religious,” offered Fergus. “Beyond the veil.”
“Rituals,” said Eden.
“Yeah, anyway,” I said, fighting down my own sense of growing unease. “You’re saying you’re not from here, but like, not from Earth either—I could be down with y’all being aliens, one hundo p.”
“Help, to escape, so we can get help, to find home.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m sure once you’re out you’re gonna make just like ET and buzz the mothership, hm? How do we know you won’t just kill us all?”
“Tired, of hurting, Alena. Tired of, hunting.”
“Was but not the other day when you seemed to get your rocks off by eating some poor federal agent alive.”
“The methodology is crass,” interjected The Minder. “We’ve acknowledged that. You see, the only way to extract the locks and keys is with an elevated level of sensory excitement, in the, ahem, final moments.”
“Yeah, no chill deaths—got it. Who designed this fucking puzzle of yours anyway?”
“You know who,” said Eden.
It took me a moment to remember: The King and Queen had apparently been the architects of The Prince’s prison world. Tried to keep him sleeping while slowly driving him insane. At least that’s what the Minder and Jailer seemed to agree about.
“Right, the royals and such,” I said. “Why did they—shit, that’s what you want to know too isn’t it.”
“Now you, are understanding.”
“Maybe we can make a deal?” said Fergus.
I felt a headache coming on. This was important, and I had an idea, but what if it was too hasty? Hesitation was death though, so I let the words out before second guessing could establish a foothold.
“Right. A deal,” I began. “Sir Silly Hat here has been on and on about earning trust. So what about this: Outside, we’re in a jam. Just this damn once, work with us to get out of it, and get these agents off our back long enough that we can do the damn lessons. Prove to me you’re not a mindless killing machine and then after we can maybe try to work out a way to get your locks open without torturous, agonizing death?”
The Minder seemed to perk up at this. Again, Eden took its time in responding.
“There is, always death, Alena,” it eventually said. “But yes, other ways to bring locks, ways, without the pain. Was done, before. Would try again.”
“Seems they always have to kill someone...” said Fergus.
I’d clocked that tidbit as well. “If I’ve learned anything in this whole everchristing fiasco, it’s that ‘impossible’ is no longer part of my vocabulary. Eden, Minder... Keeper if you’re listening... help us get out of this jam and I’ll do your lessons, you’ll release my friend, and we can talk about opening those last two locks in a different way. I’ll help. I will.”
I wanted to mean it. It sure sounded good, and fair at that. What if they really were wrongly imprisoned aliens, only wanting to get back home, trapped for timeless eons, resorting to desperate, deadly measures to get out? Who was I to judge what an infinite existence of entrapment might do to someone or something?
The problem: I’d have to be convinced beyond a doubt that a midnight chime from that clock wasn’t actually the world’s two minute warning before total apocalyptic demise. I wasn’t sure that was possible.
“You will help,” said Eden, sitting up a fraction of an inch. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah. If you help me.”
It slouched down again. “For once, all may be well, for… once.”
“If we have an accord...” ventured The Minder “Might we equip her with the knowledge for the next layer?”
“School me, weirdos. I’m ready.”
“It is, a power of true intimacy,” said Eden. “You will become, another. First, practice. Then, mastery. Be closer, and I shall initiate, the form of thought.”
Under Fergus’ strained gaze and The Minder’s expectant one, I willingly approached Eden for the first time.
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I still don't trust Eden and the Minder. But for now she needs to go along with them, and believe it too!
Please post the next part soon 🙏
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Hmmm. So it was not his true intention to cause harm? He was just trying to get out of a prison but in the wrong way?
Let's have some more.
Eden talks like these big slow Spanish Mafia boss who didn't learn English completely.
At least that's how I imagine his voice😭
Haha well it certainly isn't great at English! Although it does improve over time (at least I've tried to build that in!)
Can't wait 😀