The Grue

I just want to say that I enjoyed everyones' stories. I am a fluff buff and like seeing all of the different views and interpretations people come up with.

As always,

The Grue

If you need help edonil I could make the post for you. Just trying to lend a helping hand, but if not i understand.

As always,

The Grue

Good read. Some of the sentences seemed to run together and or run a little long, which is something I noticed only because I have the same problem when I write. I half expected some monster at the end with the book disintegrating but it was refreshing for a different ending.

As always,

The Grue

Quality work as usual Hateful, I was curious if you would make it to this one. There isn't much to say, and if I had to say anything it would be that the "Honeyed words" part seems forced, but it is a phrase that is hard to work in without it sounding as such. All in all, a good read and a good perspective from a model we don't know too much about yet. (Unless something is written in "Crossroads" about her. I have not had a chance to read that yet.

As always,

The Grue

Thank you for your comment. I wanted to try something different and see if I could make it work. I think I came in like 400 words under the limit so I have room to add if need be.

As always,

The Grue

I know that it is later than usual but here is my submission. Let me know what you think.

The Holes

As Always,

The Grue

The Holes

Clink-Tink-Click………………Ruffle-Scruffle-Squick

“One two three, one two three”

The sound was the worst part, she thought to herself. Or was it waiting for the sound?

……

……

The screaming she could handle; well not at first, but itnever did last very long. The man with the pudgy face was gone now. He didn’t scream as much as the others, no, his was more of a wet whine, full of sobs and snuffles.

Clink-Tink-Click

His cheeks had flushed and wobbled, moist and streaked, as he was pulled down. His chain at his ankle, they all had a good long watch as he disappeared into the hole. She had closed her eyes for the first but not this time. Not for pudgy face with all his blubbering, she stared into his eyes, keeping his gaze until his greasy hair dipped below the rim and lowered from view.

Ruffle-Scruffle-Squick

……

……

She tugged at her earlobe and muttered to herself.

“One two three, one two three,
 no pot of crosses for me,
 Fi-diddle-fi-day-fi-diddle-fi-dee”

…..

…..

She was surprised that he had fit, large in the middle as he was. She hadn’t a cause to put thought to that before, the size of the holes. Those before him went down; her eyes had been shut firmly, her hands affixed to her head. They may have screamed or she may have screamed, she couldn’t remember and she didn’t care.

The holes were proportionate though, that much she could tell, and they each had one.

She looked around the room; the same four walls sat around her still. Four walls with the same number of holes in the floor; the only difference from when she had mustered a glance before Mr. Pudge went down was that there was now one less person in the room.

……

……

“Two left. Two left and me.” She breathed, though to no one in particular. It wasn’t like anyone was listening anyway.

The old lady in the corner across from her was still on her knees, her head bowed in prayer, or in defeat. She had seemed the calmest at first, like she was at peace with it all. That all changed when that mousey brat in the corner went down.

He couldn’t have been more than ten, or eleven, but it was hard to tell. Malifaux did that to children, grew them up or ground them up. Innocence was like a stick of dynamite in your mouth; you either got wise and spit it out or it blew up in your face.

He had been all guts and gusto at first thinking it was all some practical joke, but that act fell flat when his chain started moving.

Clink-Tink-Click…

He resisted at first, they all had, pulling at the chain, pulling at his arm trying to slip his wrist free. For a moment he looked desperate enough that she thought he might chew through his arm, but he just stared at his outstretched arm then the approaching hole and began his mewling.

It would have been pathetic if it hadn’t been so unnerving, and then the old bag had started her screeching and the two of them raised such hell together that she had to cover her ears. She didn’t think it was ever going to end; the brat had had his feet propped up against the edge of his hole and was pulling hard at his arm. His hand began to go purple and a moment passed where she thought he might finally do it and slip his wrist free but then his feet slipped and in he went.

Ruffle-Scruffle-Squick

……

……

She pulled at her earlobe and muttered.

“One two three, one two three,
No pot of crosses for me,
Fi-diddle-fi-day-fi-diddle-fi-dee,
He showed me saints going up,
Their reward was a crown”

She noticed the brat’s mewling and the old lady’s shrieking had stopped and she looked around the room.

“One left. One left, then me.” Somehow she knew; she knew in her gut that she would be the last. It was that sinking feeling sitting where her courage had once perched at the base of her spine. It sent a shiver up her back and goose bumps raced along her body.

……

……

She glanced around the room, trying to occupy her mind with anything but what lay literally before her. It wouldn’t be long now she figured. Sure, at first the going was slow, the time between the others going down was long and drawn out, giving everyone time to shout and beg and scream. She had tried not to scream, tried to disappear in her corner and covered her ears, closed her eyes and hoped it was all just a bad dream.

Hope. She almost laughed. Her hope had been drug, kicking and screaming out of her and down those holes with the others. How could she expect to have hope as she watched a dozen or more men, women and children slowly slide down out of sight?

At times they went slowly, clawing at the cold dirt covering the hard stone floor as they sank down inch by inch, until only an arm or hand remained flailing up out of their hole until nothing but their distant screams echoed out.

Other times it was quick. There would be the noise of a chain moving, a short yelp and you would barely have time to turn your head before they were gone.

Either way the worst part was the sounds that came out of the holes with their screams. The scratch of fingernails and cloth on rough stone; then the moist noises that always followed with terrible silence.

Clink-Tink-Click

She turned her head as she heard the old lady’s chain start to move. She was just quick enough to see the chain that was affixed around the old lady’s waist go taught and quickly disappear into the hole with the old lady in tow. The old lady had landed on her stomach on top of her hole and stopped only for a moment before there was a sickening crunch. It sounded like a thick branch being broken in two and the last thing she saw was the old lady’s heels slam into the back of her head before she vanished from sight.

Ruffle-Scruffle-Squick

……

……

“None left. None left but me” She said to the holes. She didn’t have long now she knew. How long had she waited? Days? Weeks? It was all a blur, she couldn’t tell.

Tears crested her cheeks and dripped from her chin, she crawled forward and propped herself up kneeling before her hole. She wrapped her hands around her chain and followed it up to where it was attached with a tight ring around her neck. She pulled at the ring weakly and without conviction. She knew it was no use but she needed something anything to distract her from what she knew was coming.

She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and softly sung to herself.

“One two three, one two three,
No pot of crosses for me,
fi-diddle-fi-day-fi-diddle-fi-dee
He showed me saints going up,
their reward was a crown,
All’s left for the sinners,
is a long trip straight down”
 

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a folded flier. Her tears fell onto the thick and yellowed paper. This was the cause of this, she thought. She should have listened to her mother. There was other work, but his offer was too good to pass up. What she could’ve done with it, how she could’ve helped her family; it would’ve been enough to pay fare for her, her mother and her daughter back to Earthside and out of this wretched place.

Her sobbing increased and she let the flier fall to the ground.

Her voice was low and soft, “I’m sorry Emma, Momma hopes you get out of this place.”

……

Clink-Tink-Click

The chain went taught and it pulled her headfirst into her hole; her world went dark. The darkness disoriented her as she felt herself slide down, pulled on by the chain as it threatened to choke the life from her. After what in her mind felt like an eternity she finally glimpsed a dim light ahead, or below her.

As she drew near she began to make out shapes and after a moment, or two, she was able to piece together what awaited her at the bottom.

She began to scream uncontrollably.

Ruffle-Scruffle-Squick

...

You may know me here as The Grue but on League of Legends I am known as By a Grue. I am asking for your help to try and get a skin that has currently been out of my reach. League of Legends is a MOBA style game that uses champions and these champions can get skins to wear into battle. League also has a "Refer-a-Friend" program, and if you use my link and get an account to at least level 10 I get rewards. Now, normally I would not ask for help in an endeavor such as this but unfortunately there is a skin that is unlocked when 50 friends you have referred reach level 10 and there is no other way to get this skin.

So if you wish to help me on my way to this skin, all you have to do is to use this link: http://signup.leagueoflegends.com/?ref=4f32f11078256259818685 which will let them know that I referred you and get the account to level 10. You do not have to play beyond that point, but if you do want to I am always willing and up for a game and will happily play with you.

If you do not wish to help I understand, and I thank you for your time.

As always,
The Grue

Thanks for the comment! I know that my sentences some times do run on a bit and I have worked to correct that. The dialogue between the professor and his daughter was sort of forced but also was my thoughts for why anyone would bring children into Malifaux, or have them there lol.

Also, sense it was not mentioned yet and the voting is happening I will decode the Aethervox message for everyone. It was the bit in the blue color in my story.

“Erom on si dnuos litnu ecnelis. Uoy ediug lliw regnessem eht. Wonk ot meht sehsiw eh hcihw taht tuo dnif ton tsum yeht. Meht nraw ton tsum eh. Ydob sih morf sterces eht pir. Laicifitra eht nwod reat. Ecneics fo nam eht dnif. Htrof og.”

 

(Written in reverse spelling and starting at the end and going to the front)

"Go forth. Find the man of Science. Tear down the artificial. Rip the secrets from his body. He must not warn them. They must not find out that which he wishes them to know. The messenger will guide you. Silence until sound is no more."

That you again for all of the comments so far, I do appreciate them. And when I have more time I will work on the Case Files of Captain Griswalde once more. I hope I am able to evoke the same feelings in that story as I have here.

As Always,

The Grue

I like it. I noticed in this sentence, "Local Pharmacy Burnt to Cinders. Ashen Corpses Appearing in Allies, No Suspect. Theft At Local Home, Safe Burned Through. " That you used the word "Allies" but I think you meant, "Alleys" as in the spaces between buildings and not helpful people, but other than that it was a good read.

As Always,

The Grue

Interesting story. I have always had a soft spot for the whole "Deal with the 'Devil' " type of stories, especially when it comes to the terms of contractual agreement. The flow of the story seemed solid and I never was lost on who was speaking. Beyond a few spelling errors there isn't much I would change.

As always,

The Grue

(On a side note if Vena and Bingles ever need a new home, Captain Griswalde could always use some antagonists.)

Chapter 3 is up on the Blog! The link will be in this topic's original post.

We pick up with Captain Vivian Griswalde as she prepares her recruits for their upcoming assignment when an urgent message comes through ushering them out the doors sooner than she expected. What emergency could be happening to pull her and her squad out on such short notice?

Let me know what you think and if anyone wants a character in an upcoming chapter. Brewmaster's Character was in this chapter.

As always,

The Grue

I agree, I like this draft better than the first. You still managed to retain the original idea but smooth it out and refine it. There are only two things that stick out in my mind. First, does the Chimera bolt off into the night? It seems like the men feel safe enough even though their automaton is disabled, that they do not worry about the Chimera circling round. Which brings me to my next point; What about the Guild Autopsies? MacMillan runs past them, converses briefly with them, but then after the Chimera (who may have ran off) is gone the group seems to not worry about the possibility of an impending run in with them. I suppose it could be that they are confident that could out run them but then they would not have the time to remove the Hekatonkheries, and they seem like the type to reuse what they have available to them and would not throw away such a promising rig.

These may just be my mind questioning things that do not need answers but I figure some criticism is better than no criticism.

As always,

The Grue

I like it. There were times when I lost sense of who was speaking, whether it was Pierre or Ernest but I thought it had a nice flow. Will definately read again as you work to complete this.

As Always,

The Grue

Good read. The only thing that drew my attention away from the story was that he went from addressing Pandora as "she" for all of the story to suddenly using her name once, then going back to addressing her as "she" I figured this must be to let others know which person he was dealing with and understand the use. It was the only thing that broke my immersion in the story while I was reading it. Perhaps saying it another way, like, "The woman they have been calling Pandora" or "I have heard them whisper/ say her name / call her Pandora"

Just my thoughts.

As Always,

The Grue

Here is my submission. Would've had it up sooner, but in my defense I was at work and was unable to write until I got home.

Do not Ask, Lest ye be Answered.

Let me know what you think.

P.S. I promise that Chapter 3 of The Case Files of Captain Griswalde will be up soon. Darn work stifling my writing time. Please let me know what you think of that as well.

As always,

The Grue

Word count: 1,740 (I may yet work this down)

Elements used: The Scorned Child (In phrase), Line (indirectly by self description), Item (The carriage, not the best I know, and I may work to fix this to be better)

They sat and waited; all eyes affixed on the small brass rectangle on the table before them, every breath held and released quietly in anticipation. It was not an overly ornate device, primarily a brass contraption, with tarnished edges that revealed the apparent age of the device. Every ear craning in the huddled mass waiting, listening, trying to make out any sound through the stream of the crackling static wheezing out of the small slits that served as the amplifier for the small blue crystal that lay beneath. The sound was soft and trickled as much as it oozed out across the table to slowly billow up and sweep through the crowded huddle of women encircled therein. They had all come from different walks of life, their meager dress attested to; tattered, torn, unkempt clothing sidling by fanciful gowns and decadent and exotic materials. Away from all of this they may not have even known one another, even less inclined to gather as one. For them it did not matter, not anymore, for they had been called, and each had answered in turn.

The small worn Aethervox that sat on the table before them had brought them together. It had called out through the night, over the weathered cobblestone, through the brick and mortar, behind the fading daylight, and ahead of the enveloping darkness. They did not know, at first, why they had been called, the alluring invitation, the siren’s call, had beckoned them. For those that did not know the way, it had made clear the path, for those that could not see the way, it had washed their eyes and revealed the truth. They knew that now, were guided to their destiny and shown the road to their salvation.

The quiet static broke and it would seem as if statues had taken their place, as still as they remained, waiting, listening. The silence edged on seeming to grow to a cacophonous roar of emptiness in the hollow of the night.

Waiting. Listening.

So soft was the noise, small at first, it sounded as if it would be drowned out by the swallowing silence of the emptiness of oblivion, but each could hear, could understand, and would obey.

“Erom on si dnuos litnu ecnelis. Uoy ediug lliw regnessem eht. Wonk ot meht sehsiw eh hcihw taht tuo dnif ton tsum yeht. Meht nraw ton tsum eh. Ydob sih morf sterces eht pir. Laicifitra eht nwod reat. Ecneics fo nam eht dnif. Htrof og.”

The sound ended softer than it began. They turned as one and looked to the doorway of the small room that was previously empty to the woman standing where emptiness had once resided. She was as plain as most in attendance but different. She nodded once, then turned and walked out of the room. They all filed out slowly but with purpose until the room was empty and the vacuum of silence rushed back in to take their place. The box sat on the table, still and cold, static wheezing out of it, no louder than a whisper.

---------------------------------------------------

The carriage rambled over the stones at a brisk pace, the rattling of its many wheels echoing off into the night. The carriage swayed and rocked over the broken roadway jostling the passengers as it passed through the narrow streets. Up to this point the motions and jostling had not bothered the passengers within, their stoic demeanor was proof of the burden of their mission. The old professor sat quietly, small clouds billowing from the end of his pipe as he stared out into the night. The young woman across from him began to fidget, the uncomfortable silence slowly eating away at her resolve. Her eyes darted back and forth between the Professor, the floor, and the two young Guildsman sitting beside them. They too sat in silence, exchanging worried glances, not even trying to hide them anymore, their leather gloves wringing shallow furrows in the stocks of their rifles.

The mood hung over them all, in the lack of words between them. They had come from the observatory on the hill, out on the edge of Malifaux where it overlooked the city. They had been tasked with studying Malifaux and all its mysteries and providing explanations and exploitations so that they may one day better understand what this place truly was. One area they had dabbled in was the Aethervoxes. Through their studies they had been able to repair many to their current functioning levels but with the constant failures and breaks in communication they had been tasked with delving further into that ancient and mystical technology. Things had begun to happen to those working in the observatory, strange things, awful things. Slowly at first then more and more frequently as their work progressed. A collective sense of dread began to overtake those on the project, an unease began to bite at them, like the realization that they were about to uncover something they were not yet ready to understand, much less control.

The abrupt stop of the carriage jolted the occupants from their thoughts as they lurched forward then sprang back. The professor regained his bearings and put his hand to the case at his feet between his legs. He inspected it for damage and breathed a sigh of relief when he found none.

“What could he be stopping for, in this part of the city, during this hour? Does he not know the vital importance of the findings we have with us? They must be delivered, everyone must be warned.” The professor’s could not pull the fear from his voice, and began to wipe at his brow with a handkerchief from his pocket.

The guard nearest the front banged on the wall of the carriage, shouting to the driver. “Get a move on, we must not stop.” He waited for a response from the driver and when he got none he exchanged a worried look to his partner. He looked to the Professor and the girl then spoke, “You two, stay inside, Bertrum and I will find out why we have stopped and get us going again.”

The two guardsmen exited the carriage and shut the door behind them, leaving the two to sit by themselves. They sat in silence for a moment or two waiting. Another moment passed and the professor began to fidget, pulling the case to his chest and wrapping his arms around it. “I am a man of science. Do they not understand the nature of what is in this case? What it has shown us? This is not a child’s game we play here, this is a matter of life and death, or worse if my calculations are right.” He glanced out into the night, then at the door the guardsmen left from, a worried expression creeping onto his face. “Where in the hells are those two?

The girl finally looked up, listening to the professor, before glancing out the window. “There is a light, there.” She pointed out the window at a solitary street lamp that shown in the darkness. “there is someone standing there.”

The professor looked out to where she was pointing. A lone woman stood underneath the street lamp, leaning on the pole.

The young girl across from him spoke up, leaning slightly out of the window to call at the stranger. “What are you doing out at this time of night, are you lost?”

The professor lashed out at the girl. “Are you daft girl? What have I told you about calling out to those that you do not know? Have you not heeded my warnings of this place, do you not understand what could be out there, lurking in the dark? If not before, do you not now, knowing what we know? Hearing what we heard this night?” his glance shifted down uncomfortably to the case pressed against his chest. “I never should have brought such a naïve girl to this place, I never should’ve listened to your mother, she was a fool to insist you come with me here to help with my research.”

His daughter was not paying attention to him, her gaze affixed solely on the woman under the street lamp. Her head was tilted as if she was trying to hear something soft. She spoke then, her voice rising to call out, “Yes. I’ll come right away.” With that she opened the door to the carriage and ran out into the night towards the woman standing under the lamp.

The professor lunged after her, but failed to grab onto her in time. He held the case close to him and leaned out of the door to the carriage to yell after her. The words formed in his throat then it hit him; the awful silence of the night around him. Where were the two guardsmen, they would not have had to go far to question the driver, and in that matter where was the driver? He turned and looked up to the driver’s seat. Absolute horror splashed across his face, for there, crouched atop the still form of the driver was a woman, not unlike the one standing out under the lamp. Her fingers tightly woven around the driver’s neck, a wide toothy smile across her face. He looked down and saw the two guardsmen laying on the street, women on top of them as well. The same smile, and more silence. He barely felt the carriage lurch as he heard the door behind him open and close. He looked out to his daughter, standing before the woman under the street lamp, a wide toothy smile splayed across her face. A single tear slid down his cheek as he felt steely fingers close about his neck.

-------------------------------------------

The group of women were all huddled around the table where the Aethervox sat. The woman stepped forward. She opened the case she held and grabbed something from inside. She let the case drop to the floor, spilling the files, paperwork, and research notes to the floor. Hastily drawn words were scribbled frantically over all of them, warning of a horror that had not yet been truly seen, a horror that had been glimpsed during the investigations concerning the other object in the case, the one the woman now placed on the table.

The women all stood huddled around the table, staring now at the two Aethervox sitting on the table.

Waiting. Listening.

I am finishing up Chapter 3 and have included Brewmaster's "Thaddeus 'Bill' Compton" and just wanted to check to see if there was anyone else wanting to insert characters/ antagonists/ allies/ into the story. Let me know here or through a pm and look forward to Chapter 3 soon.

As Always,

The Grue

We pick up with the Captain in Chapter 2 as she prepares to evaluate and break in her new crew. They are a fresh batch straight from the academy on their first tour in Malifaux. The Captain had requisitioned this squad to help with all of the strange on goings on that have been popping up lately, namely one case that she has yet to solve. Let me know what you think of the characters so far, and if there is anything I can change. As always feel free to submit characters to be included in the story. We have one player submitted character appearing in Chapter 3 so far, so stay tuned. Now, I hope you enjoy Chapter 2.

Also I added the new link to Chapter 2 in the original post.

As always,
The Grue

I will be writing stories based around the cases of  Captain Vivian Griswalde during her tour of Malifaux in the Guild's employ. Let me know what you think or her journey.

One of my plans is for a community type story where other forum members can help the story along. I want to do this a number of ways. Firstly, I think it will make for an interesting developing story if other members can submit characters to be introduced into the story, whether they are for against the Captain. They can be any faction and have any desires. I will try to incorporate them into the story to the best of my abilities. You can post them here or you can send me a pm with the details if you do not want them public until they show up. If you wish to do it this way all I would need is:

• Name:
• Gender:
• Faction:
• Race:
• Traits:
• Background:
• Desires/ Goals:

The other way we can do this and I am open for either way, is to have different forum members take turns writing chapters to this story. To not intrude upon another member's story ideas the chapter would be from their own character's point of view and would not interfere with or meet with other member's characters unless it is agreed upon by both members. Violence and conflict could also be done between member's characters if it is agreed upon as well. I like this option because if we have enough people involved we could co-write a full story of our own making for the great world of Malifaux and it can shape and grow as time goes on. Who knows, maybe even one day we could have a full novel on our hands, but that is a ways away haha.

So to start out I will put this chapter into place, let me know what you think and if there is anything I should clarify or change. I am open to all types of criticism. I will edit this and add a bit more as it comes to me, just wanted to get something up here so we can get this moving.

__________________________________________

To help make things a bit more organized and to utilize the brand new blog feature of the site I have decided to move all of the different chapters there, while maintaining this topic for easy browsing and reading. Each new chapter will get published as a new entry on the blog and a corresponding link will be linked here. Feel free to comment directly on each chapter on anything you liked, disliked, needed clarified, etc, and then post here to discuss the story as a whole or submit your characters or ideas. With your help this can become much more than a single person writing a single story, and turn into something we are all proud of and contributed to. With that said I give you Chapter 1.

Chapter 1: A Different Sort of Case   

Chapter 2: Hard Choices, Easy Answers  

Chapter 3: Not what she was Expecting 

 

I apologize for not doing anything with my story apart from submitting it. It appears my net was of the capped variety and we are able to escape that company but beyond at work I have been unable to get onto the internet. I know that my story is disqualified and that is fine, I appreciated the oppurtunity to write. Hopefully by the next Iron Quill I should have my net sorted out and should be able to write, edit and change my story in time of the next deadline.

As always,

The Grue

Throughout all of the time I have spent looking over masters, and henchmen I have never had the pull to try Pandora, as I saw her as too dimensional for my liking. After this story though, I may give her a try as I did not see her in such a way.

I am a fan of the Purple, it helps draw attention to what she is saying and puts emphasis on the fact that she is not human.

As said before, the quote system was a nice touch. A touch we all should consider as it helps distinguish from one scene/ setting to the next without confusing the reader.

The only thing I found that made me take pause was in the following line,

It was hardly an interrogation at all. She just walked in, sat across from me, and smiled in her weird upsetting way.

It may just be the way that I am reading this but it sounds almost like he knows her by the way he says it. The only change I would make, if it were me, would be to swap out the bolded "her" for "a":

It was hardly an interrogation at all. She just walked in, sat across from me, and smiled in a weird upsetting way.

This is just me, I sometimes have a habit of readin sentences a different way but I thought I should include my input however small.

As always,

The Grue

Throughout all of the time I have spent looking over masters, and henchmen I have never had the pull to try Pandora, as I saw her as too dimensional for my liking. After this story though, I may give her a try as I did not see her in such a way.

I am a fan of the Purple, it helps draw attention to what she is saying and puts emphasis on the fact that she is not human.

As said before, the quote system was a nice touch. A touch we all should consider as it helps distinguish from one scene/ setting to the next without confusing the reader.

The only thing I found that made me take pause was in the following line,

It was hardly an interrogation at all. She just walked in, sat across from me, and smiled in her weird upsetting way.

It may just be the way that I am reading this but it sounds almost like he knows her by the way he says it. The only change I would make, if it were me, would be to swap out the bolded "her" for "a":

It was hardly an interrogation at all. She just walked in, sat across from me, and smiled in a weird upsetting way.

This is just me, I sometimes have a habit of readin sentences a different way but I thought I should include my input however small.

As always,

The Grue

WIP

--------

Right now this is at 2141 not counting the title and since it is three in the morning I thought I would ask for your guys' help in editing it down to the limit. Any critique, good or bad, is requested and appreciated.

Also, since this is my first post, name is Adam though you may call me The Grue.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Ballad of Ladyface.

The blinding beam of the lamp cascaded over Annabeth, scalding her unprepared eyes, and wrinkling her features as she shied away from its magnitude. The darkness was so absolute mere moments before, that this sudden reprieve filled her with a mix of gratitude and abject despair. She despised the dark, but the light brought to life her worst fears and she almost wished for the soothing madness of the blackness. Annabeth narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard. She could feel the irons anchoring her arms behind her as they bit into her slender wrists. Mixed with the dull ache, the tingling sensation she felt racing up and down her arms helped indicate how long she had sat in the dark.

Her academy training took over and she took stock of her surroundings as best she could. They were in a small room, if you could even call it such; the walls and ceiling were made with sheets of corrugated metal, and the floor of warped planks covered in dirt and other unmentionable shadowy things that scurried and scuttle at the peripherals of the light. The furnishings were sparse and seemingly cobbled from various locations and sources. The lamp overhead swung slowly, illuminating a stately yet over worn desk sitting across from where she sat chained to the chair. A small lamp sitting upon the desk was switched on and while it was not as bright as the lamp circling overhead it was bright enough to lift the gloom that had enshrouded the other side of the desk and the room surrounding its small radiance.

“My dear, I am sorry for the theatrics, but I had wanted to make sure you were able to get some beauty sleep. A girl’s got to put in the work if she wants to look her best.”

Annabeth looked beyond the desk and into the face of the women who sat behind it. The woman’s voice was soft, like velvet wrapped around warm honey and it was all she could do not to feel a bit of reassurance at those words, as the woman folded her delicate fingers and continued.

“I hope you are feeling well? I apologize for the manner in which you were brought here, and I do hope that nasty bump on the back of your head isn’t causing you too much pain. May I ask how your trip was through the Breach?”

Annabeth’s mouth was parched, her tongue dry against her teeth, “Why are you doing this?”

The woman frowned, “such manners, not even the slightest of small talk with you Guardsmen, I expected more from you Anni-bell.”

Annabeth swallowed. No one called her that, at least no one on this side of the breach. The last person to call her that was her fiancé, when he left all those months ago to pursue his research Malside, to await her to join him when she finished the Academy and got her station orders when she reached Malifaux. “What have you done with Jonathan?”

The woman smirked to herself and pursed her lips, “I am afraid my dear, that he is no longer with us. Though I must admit he did attempt to keep up his correspondence with you,” she gestured to the piles of parchment lying on the desk, “it is too bad that he was unable to get them to you, perhaps if he did you might not be in the situation you are in, though we are very glad that you are.”

Annabeth shivered, what did she mean no longer with us? Was her dear Jonathan dead? She had thought it peculiar that she stopped receiving the weekly letter, though she knew how he could get caught up in his research and forget things. “What did you do to him?”

The woman smiled and picked up a small pile of letters from the desk, “Let me read some of this to you, though I may paraphrase, we have a schedule to keep.” She began reading softly, as if trying to convey the words as more than words.

“My dearest Annibell. The aspiring poets who have come and gone from this place were not mistaken, for this truly is a journey of immeasurable magnitude. The experience of passing through the Breach was as invigorating as it was terrifying. In passing I felt something stir within myself, though presently I cannot quantify what it is…” the women stopped for a moment and shuffled through the letters before beginning again, “..finally they have let me venture out on my own. When my research permits me a brief intermission I have found that I enjoy taking long walks throughout the city after nightfall. It is nice to get out of that stuffy lab and gaze at the stars instead of at the unhewn and rough Soulstones they have me studying. Some find the night time here unpleasant, and though I cannot blame them it feels different for me. Where some might take pause at journeying out after dark, it seems as if I feel almost a calling to go and walk alone. At times, during these jaunts, I seem to catch a fleeting glimpse of someone, walking just ahead of me, always just around the next corner. I follow, not knowing yet why but the things that they have led me to are marvelous. I wish I could describe the wonders of the cyclopean ruins I came across a fortnight ago, standing there, in the precipice of those ruins, in the hollowed out ruins of some forgotten building, I mean it is almost as if I was standing in the shadows of giants of some long lost age. I plan to return there and see what else I can find..” A quick shuffling brought a new page to the top of the pile, “…I feel strange. I have taken a leave from the laboratory. It seems that the presence of the soulstones is making me ill. The Guild doctors have said it is normal for those uninitiated in the ways of magick to sometimes react this way when in their close proximity, but I think it is something else.”

The woman skipped ahead as if looking for a certain passage, “…I must conduct more research in those ruins, I believe I am close to something, something old and forgotten.”

She put the pile down except for the last letter in the pile which she read slowly as she walked towards Annabeth, her voice much deeper now, less soft than it was before. She seemed to be skipping various words and sentences of her choosing, for her sentences did not seem to have a coherent nature.

“Annabeth, I hope this reaches you. I am not sure if I will be able to maintain control of myself for much longer….this place Annibell, this place….it does something to you..I am not sure how to tell you this but you must forget about me, forget this place….those ruins…..he found me, the one leading me from before….my god Annibell, I killed that woman, splashed her blood about the stones of that place. He laughed as I did it, the man, as the woman screamed. Those screams of all those women as I cut into them, they will never leave me…..I do not know what to think anymore, at first there was horror, yes, but now, and secretly I think maybe even before, but now there is only a happiness I have not felt since I last saw your face, it is indescribable….these woman, these vagrant women have shown me my gift, I have guided myself ever since that day through the Breach. I have found myself and tutored myself in the forgotten, the lost. I have become…myself.”

Annabeth was shaking, revulsion quivering through her body. What had become of her dear fiancé? What had he gone through that had changed him so? She must find him, try to make sense of all of this she thought.

She didn’t noticed the woman start to shake at first. Too busy in her own thoughts to notice the frail woman before her begin to grow taller. Her thoughts began to race on how she could garner Guild support to find him when she finally realized that the woman in front of her had disappeared.

Where once stood a slender woman, petite, with long raven hair and a kingdomed tan to her skin there now stood a gaunt and lanky man in the woman’s ruffled and silken evening dress. The realization hit her and as her mind screamed at her not to look, she lifted her gaze to the man’s face and as she opened her mouth to scream the man threw a handful of dust from a small pouch at his waist into her face and her world fell mercifully dark.

She blinked slowly, the light coming back to her eyes. Her fiance’s voice came from somewhere behind her, the tone was wrong though. Where once her fiance had a deep baritone of a voice, was now replaced with almost a high pitched tonal resonance.

“I am sorry Annibell, I had to make you sleep. I wasn’t ready before, and I am still trying to get this timing down to perfection. It must be perfect you see, these masks don’t last forever, and slipping into a fresh one takes time and the preparations can be tricky. Get it right and the guise lasts for a long time, don’t take your time and you can end up sloughing it off at the most inopportune time.”

Annabeth shook her head, trying to remove the cobwebs that lingered. She felt his hands brush her own as he undead the irons about her wrists. She brought a hand up to try and rub the sleep from her eye that was clouding her vision but something felt wrong. She couldn’t feel her hand against her face, she could see that it had made contact but couldn’t feel it. She pulled her hand away and her eyes widened as she saw that her hand was covered in a sticky red substance. Her voice quivered as she spoke, “Jonathan….what is happening? Jonathan?”

Her fiance’s called out from behind her, his voice dropped low as he spoke, “that is not my name…not my name….”

Annabeth began to call out again, “I don’t understand, Jonath-“

Her words were cut off as her fiance strode across the room from behind her and spun her chair around and got down into her face and bellowed at her at the top of his voice,

“That is not my NAME!!!”

It was strange, not the fact that he raised his voice to her, but for a moment she thought she was looking into a mirror. Her face was there, staring right back at her except the face she was looking into, her face, had her fiance’s eyes boring into her.

When she put it all together, the numbness, the red substance, the image of her face with her fiance’s eyes, she was silent for a moment. Then her mouth drew open and a shriek that seemed to come from the depths of her came pouring out. She clawed at her face in desperation, wishing it not to be true. She saw the flash of steel draw towards her. She put up her hand and barely felt the slice of the knife through her hand and across her throat, her thumb and for finger fell off into the darkness and her throat opened to silence her screaming a bubbling geyser of air and blood.

He looked down at her twitching form. Just like the others he thought, though the others did not have the means and access his Annabeth did. Top of her class at the Guild Academy, and brought to Malifaux to be in charge of record keeping. Her thrashing slowed and lessened. He looked down and spotted her thumb lying on the floor, her finger stolen by some scavenous thing looking for a meal. He reached down and picked up her thumb. He stood up as he felt the change, his figure shrinking, his features changing, his hair growing; his face was last as it always was. It was warm, layered underneath his fiance’s freshly cut face. He brought up the thumb and applied the stump to his lips, coating them in a thin layer of deep crimson red as he felt his face meld with his Annibells until it was a perfect match.

He looked down at her, his figure now a perfect match for her own, except for the cold emptiness of his eyes, and strode over her body to the change of clothes he had laid out.

With one final breath she gasped through the blood, “Jon..Jonath.an..”

He looked back at her, shook his head and spoke, “My name is Ladyface.”

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