A long road

The dead city couldn't have been any creepier.

The smell of old, rotten buildings was in the air, and the ground was covered in shattered glass and debris. Whatever had happened was long enough in the past that blood and bodies weren't in evidence, but gloom and doom hung heavy like rain clouds. Vanessa felt sure they were being watched, although whoever it was kept a low profile; the only sounds not from ruin were her and her sister's footsteps and the drag of her dress's hem on the rough paved road.

The two had talked at first, but conversation had slowed and stopped as they journeyed deeper into the ruined cityscape. Now she kept her proud bearing straight ahead, while Colbie kept looking around, keeping her eyes on as much as she could. Something creaked inside one of the taller buildings, and her hand flashed a knife at her waist before she shrugged it off.

The two finally stopped in front of a sewer grate marked and daubed with blue paint, like a whirlpool or an eye.

"...Always a knack for making a point." Vanessa sniffed, looking down at it. "We could have just as well done this somewhere more pleasant."

"And miss all this?" Colbie asked, waving her hand around them. Somewhere deeper in, a trash can fell to the ground. "Is he even here?"

"Of course, likely just waiting for the right moment-"

"It doesn't work if you spoil it like that." Said the thing that floated from the suddenly smoking blue manhole. Not from the sewers themselves- the merchant they'd come to see walked much darker roads. He looked at them reproachfully before his face settled into it's normal leer.

"My two favorite customers..." Vulgrim hissed, kneading his fingers together. Vanessa bowed her head, while Colbie smirked. "I'll bet you say that to everyone." She returned.

"Only the big spenders, but they ARE all my..." Vulgrim, the Demon Merchant paused and beetled his brow, staring at Vanessa over his claws.

"...What are you wearing?"

"Clothes. What are you wearing?" She asked coldly, while Colbie snorted behind her fist.

"The finest Stygian silk, of course, but... What happened to the sensible slacks and blouse? You look like the cover of a bad gothic romance novel."

"I said a bat, myself, but that's a good one!"

"If we could return to the matter at hand-" Vanessa started.

"Did you get dressed in the dark?... Though with all that black, you wouldn't be able to find your outfit at all. It's a little much, is all." Said the jewel adorned, horned eater of souls matter-of-factly. Colbie chortled while Vanessa's cheeks turned red. She took a sack from the pockets of her long train and dropped it on the ground in front of them.

"Do you wish this deal or not?" She snapped. "Dryad hearts and a live kitten... What do you even wish with such things?"

"The hearts because they are tasty, and I wished to see if you were as good as your word. The kitten because they amuse me. I like watching them fall on their backs and paw the air. Can I not have a hobby?" Vulgrim asked, blinking in innocence before darting forward and snatching the wriggling sack, holding it close before peering at it.

"My word is my bond, surprise, surprise. Now tell me what I wish to know." Vanessa said, crossing her arms and staring daggers at Vulgrim. Colbie put her hands in her hips and watched him too, a ghost of a smile on her face. Her relaxed demeanor hid how ready she was to spill his blood if he turned treacherous or reneged his own promises.

"Very well... Have you ever wondered why the forces of Good always have the best toys? Their wishes are simple to grant and easy to manage, but our lot have to be satisfied with Ape paws and lying Djinn. Seems unfair, don't you think?" He asked, taking a still-beating wooden heart from the bag and crunching it between his fangs.

"Very unfair. More and more every day." Vanessa said tiredly.

"Self pity does you no favors. What you seek is on an island of Earth. Kuwahawi, to be exact. The Unholy Grail is there and waiting to be claimed. All you need do is drink blood from it's cup and an unstringed wish is yours. Simplicity itself."

"The Unholy Grail?"

"Ew, blood?"

"Yes to both of you. It waits for a hand to claim it, as it belongs to itself. If you are strong enough, and true enough to your desire, you may even win through the others who seek it. It is your only hope now. Do you regret signing those contracts, I wonder?"

"No. Never." Vanessa said, not unaware of her sister's sidelong glance.

"I expected as much. I will let you travel through my Serpent Holes to reach the islands, but then our bargain will have run it's curse... Unless you would care to make another deal."

"Oh, certainly. They've all worked out so perfectly." Vanessa said icily, finally relaxing a little. Her rainment jingled with it's silver chains and charms as she considered him. "Are you setting up shop on the islands, then? Or only ferrying us?"

"I may tarry for a spell. There are always bargains to be had amongst mortals, especially at that Bar of theirs... Besides, I can't just wave goodbye to my two favorite customers."

His mocking laughter rang throughout the silent city before they all three went into the blue hole in the ground; once they were gone, so was it, as though it had never been.

The dead zone.

The start; in the dark. Walls are dimly visible. The view pans around, but with only flashlights, it's hard to see anything. It's a tunnel and the walls are made of stone; there's white paint on the walls, something about a WARNING.

"-hah, holy shit, dude-"

"-the beer?"

"You know it!"

"-place is creepy. You guys smell that?"

Five minutes in; a glass door opens. It's like the waiting room of a hospital, but dirty and wrecked. Chairs tipped over, dust on everything, lights burnt and busted out. The view flips around to the face of some teenager, before he takes a drink of Natty light.

"Okay, so, check it. We're in the old facility, it's supposed to be haunted. Sounds like bullshit, though, there's nothing here."

"Bro, give me the camera."

An old, old computer; it looks like an Apple 2, a grey plastic box. Someone scratched a smiley face into the glass screen.

"...weird, man."

Ten minutes in, and more of the same. Corridors with no lights, no sound. Probably underground. The rooms are locked and there's wreckage throughout. Rusty stretchers, clipboards with paper splayed like birds with broken wings. Trash-cans of soda, old bags of chips, a torn condom wrapper.

"You guys hear that?"

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"No, seriously! I heard something..."

Twenty minutes in. An amphitheater, like a lecture hall. Except lecture halls don't usually have tables covered in straps, generators that sit still and silent, or surgical tools scattered around the tile. Or what probably isn't old blood on the walls. Probably.

"Let's go. For real, guys, let's get the fuck out of here."

"Come on, man, quit being a pussy."

"There it is again! You hear it?"

Off camera, it sounds like machinery. A washing machine that's rocking very hard, maybe, or an engine rattling and trying to start. There's no more beers being opened; just silence as they listened hard in the gloom.

The camera shuts off at this point.

Forty minutes in; running. Hard breathing. Someone muttering "Fuck, man, fuck." Again and again. It sounds frightened.

"What the fuck was that, man?"

"Shut up, dude! We're getting out of here, right now. Fuck this. There's, uh..." The camera does another dizzying turn, looking at a frightened face. "There's something in here with us. Something big and pissed. This was a bad idea."

An hour in, back in the hospital waiting room. The camera is on the floor; someone must have dropped it. The silence stretches on until the footsteps come, and there's no mistaking them. They sound heavy and labored, like a refrigerator learned to walk. There's another sound, too, like a carpet of worms in the hollow of a stump, or Mercury being slowly sprayed through a blanket.

The camera goes up, and up, and up, until a new face appears.

It's a girl; her mouth is a blender stuffed with nails, the maw of a metal shark, but her eyes are timid and frightened. Her cheeks are dirty and her hair looks like it hasn't been washed in years.

"...He-hello." Her voice is a speak-and-spell stomped through by a boot, a text to speech program being read through cheap speakers. She sounds like this place looks.

"I hope they're gone. Those boys were scary. And they littttered. They yelled a lot when they saw me. I just wanted to be fr-I ends." She said. "...If you see this, please come back. You left your soda..."

Whoever found the camera at the entrance to this place would hopefully know to leave well enough alone in the future.

Filler dreams.

Wren and Ino opened the door silently, the airless Martian landscape making the hinges silent before they both stepped through. Wren took off the glass helmet of her old-timey spacesuit and turned around to raise a hand in farewell.

"Goodbye, Midori! We'll visit you again in another few nights." She called, smiling as Ino shut the door. The two of them were dream-walking, and in the silence of the imaginary Las Vegas bathroom, their gear slowly disappeared until they were back in their usual outfits. Fighting evil Martians had been fun, although Ino had wished she could've torn them apart and eaten their little green bodies instead of using blasters to shoot up red dust and craters. There hadn't been any blood or gore, but the two were exhilarated all the same.

Wren very much liked the girl who once had been a hand; Ino was a fan as well. Her cheer and good nature had made the both of them happy, especially after the dreams they'd been a part of. Some hadn't been as nice, but they were all welcome diversions.

"Who next?" Ino asked, looking around at the mirrors that didn't reflect them.

"Hmmm... Do you suppose Jack would mind if we popped in?"

"Oh. Well... Yes. I think she'd take that rather badly." Ino said frankly. The one time she'd offered to join Jack in a dream, the deaf blacksmith had looked horrified before silently whipping her head side to side. Ino didn't blame her. She understood. It took time to stop dwelling on trauma, and Jack had seemingly never had a period of recovery other than her prison time.

"Ah well. What about your friend, H'astra?"

"I think she and Rahat are busy."

"Hmm." Wren thought about it, quirking her head. "Well, I suppose Etch wouldn't mind some company."

"Oh, I remember her! Yes, that sounds fun. I wonder if she dreams in black and white..." Ino said, hurrying over and opening the door again before they both stepped through into another dreamscape.

Etch's store was dark, but Wren could see fine through her eye wraps; she lit a lamp and looked around at the stock on the shelves and the countertop. The fireplace was dim and glowering; they both turned their heads as a refrigerator opened in the back.

The two walked over to the imaginary kitchen and opened the door, to see Ko wearing a black robe, her arms loaded down with food and plates. She turned around and blinked from behind the small picnic she was carrying, before her brow furrowed.

"What the hack are you two doing here?" She asked, sounding confused and a little guilty.

"Oh, just out for a little sight-seeing. Is this your dream, then? How have you been-"

"Ko? Come back to bed~" someone called from upstairs.

"One second, Caur- er, uh-" her face flushed as her gaze snapped back to the two of them, who were suddenly both on tenterhooks. "...I'm kind of busy right now. Call ahead or something next time, alright?" She grumbled at them. Ino blinked, confused, before Wren put a hand on her shoulder and started to drag her out.

"Yes, of course, so sorry- it was good to see you again- we'll, er, look for you on the Islands-" Wren stammered, before backing out of the kitchen and the store both, back to the bathroom that stood in as their hub. Ko watched them leave before she sighed and morosely bit into a chicken leg.

"...Maybe we should stick to our house for now." Ino suggested, subdued. Wren slowly nodded before the door opened again and Inshabel poked her head in.

"Would either of you happen to know where I put the syrup? It seems to have vanished, and I'd much prefer to have it for the pancakes I'll be making for breakfast."

"I think we used it all, Inshabel. I'm very sorry. Shall we pick some up?" Ino asked.

"Oh, no, dear. Don't trouble yourselves. I'll have it by the morning. Do have fun!" She said pleasantly, closing the door behind her. Wren gathered herself before looking down at Ino, who looked back up at her.

"...Why don't we call it a night?" Wren suggested. Ino unhappily nodded before they left, going back to the house they shared and falling into their own sleep once more.