Chapter Text
The leaves are chrisp on the ground, the air is bitter. All around him is the smell of ash and smoke.
Gerry lies on the ground of the cold atumnal forest trying to figure out what the hell happend mind clouded by the finite cough of death. He never knew what pledging himself to an entity would feel like but as the claws of termnius grip at his head ,inflicting a wretched headache upon him he concludes he understands now. It doesnt take a genuis to know it'll take more then some ibuprofen to alleviate this sort of headache but his bones feel to weak and frail to move just yet. How did this happen? He remembered meeting the new archivist- john. He remembered the hunters and the awful book. Gertrude leaving him, the fractureing pain and fear of death, how he wanted to scream for the idea of a mother who wasnt alive nor loved him but even so dazed and drugged up wouldnt let himself. Gerrys thoughts spiral as he tries to think his way through all of this which was difficult as he could barely think at all. This goes on till its dark and he'd given up on his bones feeling stable.
Begrudgingly he stands, legs only faltering a little bit but mind pounding now. His body must still be weak from the tumour? Is the tumour still there or was part of hid brain removed? Did he have a permanent TBI now? The thought makes him dizzy with fear and the knowledge of the exsistance of his blood and organs. The nausea and dizziness send him tumbleing to his knees, catching himself with a tree and taking deep shakey breaths. He'd always been horrible with hospitals, side effects of mary keays A+ parenting. He grunts to himself, being this weak is just embarrsing, but at least he's alone.
By the time gerry has somehow navigated himself out of that big fucking forest in the countryside of scottland of all places, he had ragained enough compusure to confidently walk through the town ,trying to remember how to be a person. "Ok think gerry, think. You serve the end, how to you get rid of this headache and remember your....and remember uhm shit!-and think clearly. Jesus I'm worse then mum when she began to fade." He whispers to himself all too aware of how carzy he looked, but right now thinking just wasnt working. Gerry knew what he had to do ,his mind wasnt so foggy that he forgot what an avatar not feeding its-their? Its patron could look like. He just really didnt want to have to kill someone. If he waited he could find a some *thing* to kill but what is he couldnt wait that long, what if he'd end up worse off for waiting.
"Ok the end isnt all straight up murder it can uhm also be the uhm the fear! Or the feeling of death coming for you...god why am i serving the entity i always ignored! Terminous is usually pretty complicit in the whole, horror and torture of the world. Apart from mum" he shivers at the thought of becoming her and decides he has to figure this out before he does. He feels his feet walk him somewhere, ge wasnt sure if it was the web the end or any possible connection he still had with the eye? But soon enough he ended up in a graveyard cold and dark and very very spooky.
His ears twitch when he hears the sounds of 2 people, gerry quickly hides in the treeline and as they walk by he catches a glimpse. Two girls ,they looked around 17 or 16. One was blonde and tall she seemed rather brave if not cocky and was talking about how spooky this place apparently was, she might have been goth if being goth wasnt about beliefs attitude or music. The other was shorter, she had mousey brown hair and freckles that danced on her cheaks. She seemed very nervous and was anxiously looking around as they walked. "Jessie i think this is a bad idea" she said as she twiddled a pentagram necklace between her fingers. She dressed like someone who liked crystals and tarot cards but not much more in the witch circle. Neither girl seemed to have any obvious marksbut gerry wasnt sure if that little skill had been a gift of the eye or just observation from a life lived in this world.
Gerry wasnt about to kill two teenagers so he needed to figure something else out, how was he to feed the end with out compromising his morals when its so much of what he is now. Gerry goes through the tree line to a more populated part of the graveyard. "Just think" he whispers to himself. He hears footstwps approach and doesnt see anywhere he can head so, time to become a stereotype of a creepy death alligned goth, he guessed. He sits on a gravestone desperately trying to print out a script of why on earth he was doing such a thing when the two rounded the corner. "Chill izzy, we're gonna be fine. Its just a graveyar- oh uhm who are you?" Jessie said tone changeing to one of disturb masked with faux normalicy. "Uhm" gerry stutters out hands holding onto the gravestone. Before he can say more, the moment his hands skim the gravestone the air grows sharp and somehow colder. Gerry doesnt know what he's looking at but he knows its not good by the blood curdleing scream one of the girls lets out, izzy? Maybe? Lord he cqnt think at all.
The girls run as fast as the can from the graveyard but once their gone his headache starts easing off enough to make sense of what hes seeing. From the gravestone gerrys sat on leads a thin trail of mist and bullets and chains into the air in front of the gravestone. The densest part and where the trail stops is filled with whisps and what looked to be a what could only be described as language of death, a convaluted message of someones end, barely legable but gerry knew if he wanted to he could read it. He's imdiantly reminded of the obituary's in the catologue in their description and structure of a summon. His eyes widen with what could generously be described as realisation but more accurately disguest and horror. He takes a small staggering step back followed by a gasp. All of these gravestones where insites, summorys for whole lives. What happens if he reads one? Does it summon them like with the catalogue, that would make sense after all he was in the catalogue. Realisation pin pricks his eyes.
John had burned his page! Thats what the smell of ash and smoke was about! Did that mean his mum was alive though? Surely not, she'd never of let him be free if she was. Maybe Gertrude had found another way to get rid of Mary and he just didnt know it.
The headache by now was almost fully gone allowing gerry to think clear and properly with minimal pain for the first time in half a decade. His bones still felt weak but they always had so he'd probably survive, in some form? Who fucking knows its the end. Gerry walks back into town now with enough wise to check his pockets, he fishes out his wallet and his barely working burner that ironically flickered to life in his hand. The thing had a black line with dotted colour through out running down the cracked screen but a phones a phone and this phone still works so hes hardly going to throw it out, he clicks the contacts button "lets see whos number I still have."
G Gertrude Robbinson
A Adelard Dekker
M Mike Crew
M Micheal Shelley
"Ok well, Gertrudes dead. Micheals.....not a can of worms I want to open right now. so its dekker or mike? Gerry presses dekkers contact but thinks better of it. What would he even say "hey bro not dead but I may very well be death" no that would'nt go over well. He taps mikes contact and waits. He didnt know what he was gonna say but he just needed to talk to someone that wasnt those hunters, apart from John, they where the only people he'd talked to since 2014. Theres no answer from Mike so Gerry gives in and calls Dekker, he'd always been nice anyway so hopefully it would go ok. No response, shit ok maybe it just a bad time or bad cell service or some shit like that. He didnt know what time it was but guessed it was too early to get a call from Gerard "supposed to be dead" Keay.
No bother, he'll just make his way back to london where he knew his way around and could get back to doing anything but being a monster manual. Gerry gets a ticket for a train to london, expensive and not ideal but whatever, and waits. Maybe he could stop in and see if John managed to save the world. Gerry thinks about anyone he'd know in london; some book sellers, mike, his tattoo artist shit is it sacrilege to have his eyes or a helpful ward? Who fucking knows. The train slowly turns up and people file in, as gerry sits in the uncomfortable seat and listens to the sound of the train screaching against the tracks his mind cant help but wander to the realisation of how poorly he'd lived his life. Could he count this as a second chance or a selfish extension on his Inconsequential life?
And so gerard keay was back with more of a flicker then a bang