Ghost Town Part 2

For a split second, I saw through the illusion that Sam had apparently been projecting to their ashy grey skin, blackened fingers and black sclera. Then, as quick as it dropped, the illusion came back. They tilted their head. "Ah yes. I remember. First time I had been out of the Castle since my death, and I was still very out of sorts." They smirked "Holding that against me seems a little rude. Coming back from the dead isn't nearly as easy a process as certain TV shows make it appear, my dear. The only thing I succeeded with on that day was making sure Luke failed in his goals. Which is also something that you support, yes? Stopping him from butchering your puppeteer before you can? Also, as an aside, I burned if you do recall. Not exactly painful, but I very bizarre sensation that I didn't particularly like. I don't class it as a good day." They shifted their gaze to the waves and shrugged. "Leon did not have to be in danger. Even then, I'd made the offer to your ex-master. All she had to do was come quietly, and I would have taken back everything I'd influenced. He could have walked away without even a stuffy nose. But that's not her style, is it?"

I was pissed at their attitude, like I was supposed to be happy that they stopped that goopy fucker when they only did it because they wanted to take the Wolf themself. That last question forced me back to what the Wolf did to me and the community though. I looked at the nearby houses, and then to the ground. “No.” I growled, quietly. “I guess it’s not…” I closed my eye against the pain for a moment. “Bitch has never been good at letting go.” I muttered, before looking at Sam again.

"...The slaughter of this town isn't your fault, my dear." They looked back to me as it let one leg drop down while bending the other up so they could rest their arm across the knee. "This... Temper tantrum is just the desperate thrashing of a narcissist trying to make their dog come to heel again. But you..." they smiled at me and looked me up and down. "You've done so well. She had destroyed you, Kristy. She reduced you to nothing and put you back together how she wanted. To react how she wanted. Her perfect little puppet. Perfect little ragdoll. And all you had to do from then on was... Play your part. You had every reason to. But you couldn't, could you...?" Their expression slipped, showing a hint of disgust. "Did you know that Spencer used to tell me he loved me as he tore me apart? There was this... I don't even know what to call it. Bickering. That we did at the beginning of working together. Bantering. It was more or less my typical behaviour, but with him it somehow morphed into... More. Perhaps it was because no one ever challenged him, and I had a bad habit of opening my big mouth. I... Caught and kept his attention. I remember... Once we were at a park. He was on one of his typical egotistical mastermind ramblings and he had a toddler on his knee. Only Satan would know where he got it, but I can still distinctly remember taking the toddler from him while making one of my typical partly-mocking remarks. I don't even remember what the comment was, but he got mad this time. Got in my face. The child started crying and what the hell was the first snarky thing that came from my mouth? 'This is why we could never have one of our own.' Makes me sick just to think about now, but I honestly believed at the time that such comments would keep him off balance. Instead, he just leaned into it. Turned my own game against me.

He'd torture me for what would feel like years at a time, and then he'd stroke my hair and call me his. His own. And the worst part was that I began to desperately crave those single moments. Where the world stopped tearing apart and he'd be my anchor for a few seconds. I'd cling to his shirt and... Sometimes I'd beg him to just kill me... Other times I'd tell him I'd do anything he wanted... But, regardless, he'd just press his hand over my eyes, and it would start all over again. I don't even recognize myself in those memories. It feels like... I'm on the outside. Watching it happen. Watching it repeat and repeat and repeat..." They let out a very long breath, looking extremely fucking uncomfortable before continuing. "Sound familiar...? Spencer and that bitch of yours... They're peas in a pod. They don't love. They own. That's why she said... she'd keep you if she won your showdown, Kristy. That's why she couldn't take the deal to protect Leon... But I am hoping that you might be willing to."

“I did play the part though,” I responded. “For eight fucking years. I loved and defended her and justified everything she did. She only did what she had to, right?” I raked a hand through my hair in agitation. “If she didn’t break me, we’d both probably be dead, so she was really saving me when she drugged me, sent a serial killer after my sister, carved symbols into me, tore my fingernails out, beat me, stuck me full of needles and forced me to write shit for her fucking readers to comment on!” My voice was full of rage and pain as the words spilled out. I couldn’t stop myself and I hated it. I hated breaking down in front of Sam, not just because of how fucking vulnerable it made me, but because if what they were saying was true, what they had lived through was way fucking worse than what I did. “The only reason I stopped is because that bandaged ball sucker tried to mindfuck me and made me relive all that shit. If that hadn’t happened, I’d still be with her right now!” I shuddered at that thought as well as the idea of being forced back into that role if the Wolf won. “So, it’s not like I snapped out of it on my own.” 

"It's called Stockholm Syndrome, my dear." Their expression was... almost soft. "An uneven power dynamic. Abuse. Isolation. It's a tale as old as time, and as damaging as it ever was. It's as close to brainwashing as you can get without sticking a toe in Pseudoscience. Even beyond that... It is not your responsibility to feel guilt on behalf of those incapable of it. You look around at these buildings, and that's all you can think about, isn't it? Knowing who is guilty of the act isn't enough. You think these people deserve to have someone feel guilty for their obliteration. So you take that on. You..." They trailed off. Frowning, they moved as though to stand, but seemed to think better of it and shifted on the rock instead. Both feet were on the ground now, with their elbows resting on their knees and the saxophone loosely gripped in their hands. "You need to stop protecting her, Kristy. You need to look at the blood splatter in these forgotten rooms and see it for the lie it is. She didn't do this because you hurt her feelings, and this is some bizarre mental break. She did this because she knew it would hurt you, and that's how she had always controlled you before. It's that simple."

Sam wasn’t the first to tell me that what the Wolf did wasn’t my fault, but this was the first time I actually believed it. I guess hearing it from someone who had also been broken helped me to finally accept it. If the Wolf really cared, she wouldn’t have threatened to keep me. That shit proved that she was more concerned with control than anything else. The Wolf had said that what happened to this community was her responsibility alone, but now it seemed more likely that that was bullshit and she had really done this as another control tactic. That realization made me feel angrier than ever, but also… better. It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. But as grateful as I was for that, I couldn’t let it cloud my judgement when it came to Hart.

“Back to what you said about protecting Hart… Isn’t the disease bird after his ass too, now that he’s… like the Wolf?” I asked.

"The Doctor only needs one, especially if we do it my way. If everything goes according to plan... Your ex-master will give us all the data we need. You don't need to 'drink the Kool-Aid' with our particular band, and Leon can walk away. I admit, the oathbreakers are fond of having multiple specimens, but they know better than to cross me. It won't be a problem. The Doctor himself won't care so long as we get results. It's not like these two are the first mutants we've seen that affect his Slenderness. David was one, of course. Certain revenants before that. It's rare, I admit, but not unheard of. Therefore, there's no need for both. Leon can continue destroying himself all he wants and attract what that may. Perhaps he'll even get a visit from the Rake one day, but he won't have to be concerned about disease. Least... No disease from us. I am not chasing his ass around curing every cancer spawned by modern day life."

I thought it over for bit.  “Look,” I said finally, “I’m thankful for the advice and the healed sores, and it’s been nice talking to you, Sam, but if the oathbreakers and your boss get their hands on the Wolf, they’ll probably get access to her dimension too. Even with your promises, I don’t like the idea of handing the keys to Hart’s fucking home to the Plague Doctor and his whole squad. I can’t trust that he won’t eventually decide to stick his beak in, or that one of the oathbreakers won’t decide to risk it for their own interests. If you get enough people together, there will usually be at least one overreaching shitstain in the group, so I think I’m going to have to say no.” At that, I started backing away.

"Hn…So be it." They said before standing up. The illusion fell away with the motion. Again, I saw the ashy skin and their black sclera. Their fingers stretched out to become a steel gauntlet on their left arm. Each finger was bladed and dripping with some sour shit that came from the cracks in the armor. A black trench coat fell into place around them, over top a black shirt, black pants, and black boots, laced tight. They were still holding the saxophone which was the only normal thing about them at that point. They smiled while a cry came from the roof of a nearby building. Two fucking ravens swooped in and landed on their shoulders. The birds didn’t look right, like they were… ghosts or some shit. "Just remember, darling, that I gave you the choice." Sam gave a showy bow, and the ravens flapped their wings. "From one survivor to another, I wish you all the best in your efforts to butcher your ex-master. As a servant of the Doctor, however... Well, you might want to get on that sooner rather than later. Lest we get to them first and you lose your shot, my dear. I assure you, the last thing you want to do is get in my way. Unlike when I was alive... My strength is no longer just limited to my sheer stubbornness.”

“Right…” I muttered as I backed up a few more steps before daring to turn away- heading to my car while looking over my shoulder to make sure they weren’t following.

"You take care now, Kristy.” They called out “And don't worry about the advice. We'll just call it a solid 'you owe me' for down the line, shall we? Happy hunting." And then they were gone. The ravens were left behind, but soon flew off.

I got my ass back to my car as quick as I could and drove the fuck out of there. 

Gotta say, I wasn't expecting a fucking pep talk from Outbreak of all people, but it helped. I have no doubts anymore. I know I'm ready to face the Wolf. 

Now there's only one thing left to do before I call her.