Chapter Text
Summer meant many things to many people: the end of school, longer days, fireflies, and many other enjoyable things. Heat, however, was something even the famously gloomy-weathered Nockfell dealt with each summer. For most, this could be a welcome reprieve from the usual cold rain and dark skies but for Sal Fisher, it meant his prosthetic filling with sweat and having to choose between exposing his shrapnel scarred arms or overheating in long sleeves.
Sal found himself unable to muster the same excitement as his peers over the fact that this summer was their first after graduating. Todd was already set to begin college in the fall, gushing about how he and his boyfriend Neil were going to have many of the same classes. Ashley had just found out she had been accepted into the art school she so desperately wanted to attend and Larry was regularly blasting School’s Out by Alice Cooper with every chance he got.
As a suggestion by Larry, the entire friend group decided to celebrate the end of school at Wendigo Lake. The atmosphere was thick with excitement, the graduates eager for the newly realised freedom. Larry had brought a boom box which blasted all kinds of obscene music and had, despite his age, somehow procured a surprising volume of beer. Ashley was laughing uproariously at a story Maple was telling her and Chug, her joy undoubtedly enhanced by the beer turning her cheeks ruddy. Todd and Neil sat by the lake, almost seeming to be in their own separate world from the loud music around them. Sal, however, sat alone, feeling the moist grass against his palms as he looked out across the lake. There was an air of melancholy around him, mostly hidden by his mask. It was better that way. Sal hated feeling like he brought the mood down. For nearly as long as he could remember, he’d been fighting to not be a burden to his friends and family. So he had no intentions of voicing his pensive mood.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” Sal’s thoughts were interrupted by Larry’s concerned voice. Apparently, his attempt to not draw attention was unsuccessful.
Sal blinked, trying to whisk away his anxieties the same way one did with drowsiness, “Nothing,”
“Don’t lie to me,”, his voice was gentle, albeit stern, letting Sal know he had no intention of letting this go until he was open, “I know you too well,”
“Just… it feels kinda fucked up, right? School being over?” Sal tugged at his pigtail with one free hand, the other resting on the grass still.
“You usually love the end of school!” Larry pointed out.
“Yeah, I love taking breaks. Not… graduating?” he sighed, “I dunno, its weird,”
“Nah, I think I get it,” he assured him, “Where the fuck do we go from here?”
“Exactly,” Sal placed both hands over the eyeholes of his prosthetic, leaning back until he felt grass on the back of his neck.
“Like…I didn’t think I’d make it,” Larry admitted, his voice shockingly hollow for the man who had been drunkenly head banging only minutes before. Sal looked up at him through his fingers, seeing how distant his gaze was and elected not to pry on his meaning.
“I’m glad you did,” he offered instead, removing his hands from his eyes and tugging at the sleeve of Larry’s shirt. Larry let himself be pulled to lying in the grass as well, looking up into the darkening sky.
“Yeah. I’m glad we all did too,” Larry decided after a while, placing his hands behind his head, “dude… I wanna say something helpful but I’m a little fucked up right now,”
“Believe me, I saw,” Sal’s humour seeped into his tone, “You looked like you were one step away from knocking your head off,”
“Felt that way too,” Larry gave a soft laugh, some of his weariness melting away, “Okay. I’m gonna try to be inspirational, right?”
“I’m listening,” Sal encouraged him.
“We may be like… fucking adults now, right? But we’re still the kids we always were. Nothing is gonna make us grown ups overnight.”
Sal didn’t even have time to let the words sink in before he heard Maple call that she had an announcement. He sat up quickly, as did Larry who seemed to immediately regret it as his eyes nearly bulged from the unintended dizziness he’d forced upon himself.
“I wanted to wait until everyone was in one place to tell you guys.” Maple looked around at everyone, making sure that no one was still distracted. Todd switched off the boombox for her, much to Larry’s chagrin.
“Chug and I are expecting.” The announcement must have been difficult as she was sweating bullets. Chug looked almost as nervous but he had a proud smile across his face.
“Holy shit!” Ashley broke the silence after the surprising announcement, rushing in for a hug without thinking and sloshing her drink across Chug’s back when she pulled them both into a bear hug, “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thanks, Ash.” Maple laughed softly at the drunk girl’s excitement, patting her back awkwardly before pulling away.
Todd and Neil approached the three of them, offering congratulations and their own brand of subdued excitement.
“Uh… wow.” Sal managed, turning to look at Larry and seeing he looked as stunned and unsure as Sal felt.
“I… didn’t expect that,” he admitted.
“I don’t think any of us did.”
“Should we congratulate her?”
“....let’s wait until the others are done.” Sal decided, sinking back into his lounging position again. Larry followed his lead and laid back as well, squinting at the stars emerging overhead.
“I guess that kinda fucks up what I said about being kids still, huh?” Larry muttered, his tone wry.
“A little bit.” Sal admitted, offering his hand, “But... I still needed to hear it.”
Larry rested his hand atop Sal’s, the brothers taking some amount of solace in each other's company.
“Ever feel like we’re getting left behind?” Larry asked suddenly.
Sal sighed softly, feeling his breath reflected back onto what was left of his lips, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d say that's it.”
“I don’t feel like I’ve grown up like… at all.” Larry confessed, “I’m just some dumb fucking kid.”
“I feel like we just got our friend group together. Like, things were finally fitting and now… now it's changing again.” Sal lazily tore some grass from the hill, his blue eyes unfocused.
“Maybe not that much.”
“Not that much?” He almost scoffed but held his tongue, “Larry, Todd is moving out. Ash is leaving the state to attend art school, and Chug and Maple are going to be parents.”
“You don’t gotta snap.” he muttered, “You still got me, right? Just like old times. And you know I’ll never fucking leave you.”
Sal heaved a sigh once again, his gaze settling on the stars above, “Yeah. I know, Larry Face.”
“Sally Face.”
***
Todd had begun to pack his things, making the concept of him moving out seem all that more real. His room was a maze of boxes that Sal struggled to traverse with his short stature. Larry, on the other hand, was able to step over them without seeming to really notice. The only things that were still up was a minimal computer set-up and the bed Larry was currently reclining in. He reached behind his ear to reveal a small, hastily rolled joint which he placed between his lips and went for his lighter.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that in here.” Todd chided him, although he didn’t seem that bothered or surprised.
“C’mon, man.” was the only argument Larry seemed to be able to muster, his dark eyes pleading.
“Yeah, yeah, just open a window.” Todd waved him off with a flick of his hand before returning to his fast typing. Sal leaned against the wall, getting some sense of nostalgia over the silly bickering. Larry and Todd had a bit of an unspoken understanding that Larry could smoke in his room as long as Todd was allowed to complain to high heavens about it. Sal only imagined it was some form of catharsis that he could never achieve with his parents. Being straight edged as a rebellion… It was almost funny.
Larry lit the end, the brief flame from his lighter illuminating the scruff he was just beginning to grow.
“So, you had something to show us?” Sal prompted, eyeing the miscellaneous gadgets shoved into an open box.
“Yeah, something you’ll want to see.” Todd turned over his shoulder to talk to them. Unfortunately, ‘something you’ll want to see’ usually meant ‘something horrific that you don’t want to see but likely need to know’. Despite his misgivings, Sal maneuvered his way behind the folding chair that served as Todd’s current desk chair. Open was a newspaper reading memorializing their recently deceased teacher, Mrs. Packerton.
Larry cringed at the view, “They didn’t fucking mention the bodies, huh? Guess that wouldn’t make it sound as nice.”
“This isn’t new.” Sal muttered.
“But this is.” Todd swiveled his pointer around a section at the very bottom of the story.
“Written by Kenneth Phelps…” Larry read aloud, eyes squinted.
“That’s Travis’s dad.” Sal realised, placing a hand on his chin as he considered what the significance was.
“You don’t think it's odd that the Pastor of the biggest church around was friends with the woman dumping bones into a cult?” Todd said, adjusting his glasses as he spoke.
“I dunno, man, seems kinda like a coincidence.” Larry rubbed the back of his head, “Packerton was old as shit. She probably knew everyone. Plus: old people really like Jesus and church, right? Like they’re trying to get some credit before they die and go to hell.”
“Jeez, Larry.” Sal grimaced beneath his prosthetic, “Not pulling any punches?”
“Bro, she ate people.”
“...good point.” Sal shook his head, trying to organize his thoughts, “So, why are you showing us this?”
“Well, what if Phelps Ministry isn’t what it seems.” Todd suggested, skimming the article again, “I mean, he seems to know a lot about Packerton. They were close. Maybe he told her about the chute to the basement.”
“If he’s somehow related to cult shit, shouldn’t it have seemed more… inhabited?” Larry asked, “Like, it didn’t look like anyone had been down there in fucking ages.”
“I’m not sure on that part.” he leaned back in his chair, removing his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose as he thought.
“It seems like a reach.” Larry concluded.
“It doesn’t hurt to look into it.” Sal suggested, “Besides, if Travis is wrapped up in this…”
“Fuck Travis.” Larry cut him off, “That asshole should get what’s coming to him.”
“He’s a good kid under all his…asshole-y nature.” Sal argued, setting his jaw, “Just trust me on that. Besides, I don’t think he wants to be part of this if he is.”
Todd slipped back on his glasses, sighing softly, “This is the only lead we have right now. And… there’s no way Packerton’s the only one. If she was, there wouldn’t have been a cover up of the… things she was guilty of.”
“Even if the cult’s still around, why would Packerton dumping bones down there matter?” Larry asked and Sal felt his heart drop into his stomach when the answer clicked in his mind.
“What if… what if whatever they’re doing needs sacrifices? And without Packerton…” his mouth felt like cotton.
“...We should go down there.” Larry decided, obviously hesitant.
Sal nodded slightly, feeling the dread begin to set in before they had even left the room.
***
By the time the elevator reached the basement floor, Sal had managed to calm his nerves. Gripped in his hands was the modified Super Gear Boy and Larry stood at his side, his father’s hunting knife tucked into his waistband. The very real possibility of there being something corporeal led to the brothers deciding to arm themselves against more than just ghosts or demons. Larry wasn’t a small guy, nearly 6 ft and still growing, with his shoulders broad and his arms a bit toned. Sal only hoped that this would be enough to lend them an advantage in the event there was someone, or something, down there.
Larry stepped out of the elevator, Sal following close behind with the Super Gear Boy already out. Neither of them seemed terribly excited to be taking this step so it wasn’t surprising when Larry fumbled the keys, cursing under his breath when they clattered against the ground. Sal jumped at the sound, almost laughing at how tense he was over what may be a coincidence. When Larry finally unlocked the door, any hope of this being a red herring was lost. The apartment had clearly been disturbed recently, faint dirt footprints trailing from the bedroom door. Larry pulled his hunting knife out, feeling better with it in his fist even if he had no idea how to use it. At a snail’s pace, the two crept forward. Some part of Sal wanted to believe it was nothing. Maybe Lisa had tracked mud in here, going to check the plumbing. Maybe it was from one of Sal’s friends and they hadn’t noticed in their rush to close the threatening trapdoor and get the fuck out of there. Maybe… Sal couldn’t come up with any explanations that brought him any peace. And if there was one, it was completely shattered when Larry stilled in front of him, his entire form tense.
“Shit.” he hissed under his breath. Peering around his brother, Sal’s stomach dropped. The trapdoor to the sub basement was propped open, the mildew smell interlaced with something else that Larry hoped he was wrong about.
“Stay behind me.” he ordered Sal and, with his knife in hand, the two of them began to descend into the darkness.
The further down they went, the worse the distinct smell became. Sal, his sense of smell damaged since he was very young, was becoming aware of it as well. There was no mistaking what it was: the wretched scent of decay. The summer heat permeated even deep into the earth, causing whatever was down here to reek of decomposition worse than it normally would.
Larry gagged on the smell, slowing as he saw they were approaching the bottom steps. The stone floor in front of them was bathed in green necrolight, making the smears of russet between the bricks painfully noticeable.
“Blood.” Sal’s voice was deadpan, the full weight of the situation threatening to overwhelm him so instead he elected to shut down his emotions entirely.
“Do you want to turn back?” Larry asked tightly. Sal took a deep breath, “we have to keep going. The… the gear boy isn’t even lighting up.”
Larry nodded, though he looked like he wanted to object. It wasn’t like they had much of a choice anyway. Either they search it now or they ignore it and allow whatever horrors were happening to continue. Neither option was appealing but the brothers hadn’t turned back before and they had no intention to stop now.
Taking a shuddering deep breath, Larry continued deeper into the subterrestrial temple, Sal keeping close behind him. It didn’t take long before they had realised they were almost certainly alone. Their footsteps echoed as they walked down the cavernous halls and, unless the cultists feared them, it seemed unlikely they would be hiding. All the elaborate puzzles they had to deal with previously had been left finished in a move only describable as deliberately sloppy.
Sal was so focused on his Gear Boy that he didn’t notice Larry had stopped dead in his tracks, accidentally stumbling into him and earning a quiet curse.
“Sorry.” he whispered, straightening back up whilst Larry’s attention remained glued to the sight in front of them. The terrified look on Larry’s face stretched his tired eyes as wide as saucers, his mouth agape despite the powerful odor. Against his better judgement, Sal followed his gaze and, in the low light, saw a body splayed out on the ground. The details were hard to make out with how dim the entire area was but the corpse seemed to be stripped nude, hands placed over her head and intentionally smeared in blood. As best as Sal could tell, her throat had been slit. He took a single step forward and the Super Gear Boy burst to life in his hands, the green light just barely illuminating the room. For the first time in years, he felt nervous to press the button and speak to a ghost. But, once again, he felt there was no choice.
Sal pressed his thumb against the loose button, the world around him seeming to shift and sway as the fleshy figure began to emerge from the ground, reforming from a puddle of skin and innards. The ghost was vaguely familiar to Sal but he found it difficult to focus on her face with the angry red gash gaping when she moved at all. Her short green hair was clumped with her own blood and her shirt was so badly stained, he could barely tell it was originally grey.
“Who are you?” Sal asked abruptly, knowing he recognised her but not able to place who she was.
“You know me.” her voice was far more ragged than most ghosts he’d met. There were tears in her eyes, apparently not handling her recent death well. By the look of the body, she’d only died a few days ago.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I do.” Sal said softly. Larry looked like he was going to be sick but held himself up right regardless, glancing over his shoulder like he expected to be ambushed any moment.
“You and I… we didn’t speak but I knew you.” The ghost managed, “We were students together.”
That was enough for Sal to recognise why the ghost seemed eerily familiar to him: he didn’t know her, per se, but he’d gone to school with her. Something about this revelation twisted the pit of his stomach.
“Who did this to you?” He asked softly.
“You know already, don’t you?” the ghost whispered, her foggy eyes full of pain and regret. As usual, the ghost didn’t stay long enough to explain, melting back into the ground with the echoing sound of a scream.
Sal nearly dropped the gear boy in his frustration, gripping both his pigtails and tugging them the way he tended to when he was stressed.
“We should go.” Larry suggested softly, his eyes looking more sunken than usual in the low light.
“She was a classmate, dude. What if whoever did this goes after someone we know next?” he was yanking at his hair now, shaking despite himself.
“Sal.” Larry gripped his shoulders, forcing him to be still, “We can think that out later. But now, we have got to get the fuck out of here.”
“Without even finding out her name?” his voice quivered.
“Sally, I don’t want to argue about this but we’re no help if we get hack-and-slashed down here!” his exasperation was starting to show, “I don’t want to end up fucking lost like who ever else was killed down here. And I sure as hell don’t want you to either.”
Swallowing his pride, Sal nodded slightly. He decided, once again, to push his emotions down into the pit of his stomach. To be the positive one. To be the reliable and rational one. Despite the anger twisting his insides, Sal followed Larry out of the echoing halls, past all the carvings and designs, seemingly not noticing that there was something left there for them specifically. He wouldn’t realise until he was back upstairs, far from the rank stench of decay. Alone in his room, Sal realised the blood was not smeared; it was painted. Someone knew the murder was going to be seen. Someone had left them a note.