Chereads / Space Age: Echoes of Eternity / Chapter 47 - Vargas XXII: Demons

Chapter 47 - Vargas XXII: Demons

The two stepped out into the bustling streets, the city's glow casting long shadows over the sidewalks. Vargas had opted against taking a taxi—too many prying eyes, especially if the conspiracy went as deep as he suspected. Walking would keep them discreet and off the radar. The decision, however, had an unintended consequence: Giolio.

Using the shapechanger device, Giolio had assumed the guise of a strikingly handsome man with chiseled features, flawless skin, and an easy, charming smile. As they strolled down the street, heads turned. Women—and even a few men—gave him lingering looks, and Giolio didn't hesitate to flash dazzling smiles in return.

"Oh, hey there," he winked at a passing woman, who giggled and blushed before quickly walking away.

Vargas rolled his eyes, already regretting his decision to let Giolio use the shapechanger. "Do you have to make a scene everywhere you go?"

Giolio turned to him with a sly grin. "What can I say? Handsome me is hard to resist. It's almost mating season anyway so I need the practice."

"Again, you don't have the compatible genitals to mate with humans", Vargas growled.

"You're right…speaking of. How do you humans mate with the same appendage you use to expel waste, such a disgusting thing that encroaches on the idea of mating."

Vargas sighed ignoring his insults. To the Rantil the process of consummating a relationship was seen as a beautiful and sacred thing. To open yourself up to another Rantil and expose your most vulnerable state was the ultimate form of love and bonding and was something that should not be taken lightly. 

"Same way we find it disgusting that you mate with your antennas on your head", Vargas slyly remaked. "Now shut up and focus up".

Giolio raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin never faltering. "Relax, boss. I'm just trying to make this gloomy walk a little more fun."

They turned a corner, moving into a quieter part of the city. The vibrant lights and chatter of the main streets gave way to dimly lit alleys and the occasional passerby. Vargas kept his eyes scanning their surroundings, his instincts on high alert.

"Do you really think we're gonna find anything?" Giolio asked, his voice dropping slightly. The playful tone was gone, replaced by something more uncertain.

"We don't have a choice," Vargas replied curtly. "This is the only lead we've got."

Giolio nodded, adjusting his pace to keep up with Vargas. Despite his earlier bravado, he could sense the weight of the situation. The thought of being dragged into something far bigger than himself wasn't exactly appealing.

"Okay, but hypothetically," Giolio began, his tone more serious, "what if this is a dead end? What's your plan then?"

Vargas didn't answer immediately. His mind was already racing with contingencies, but he didn't feel like sharing them with Giolio. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The faint hum of a streetlamp buzzed overhead as they approached the address Giolio had given during his ritual. The old building loomed ahead, its worn exterior standing in stark contrast to the sleeker structures around it. A faint sense of unease prickled at Vargas's mind as they stopped in front of the entrance.

Giolio glanced up at the building, his bravado faltering. "Well, here we are. Boss can I stop here, I don't even have offsprings I can't die here".

"Appearances can be deceiving," Vargas muttered, stepping forward to push the door open. "Stay close, and try not to draw attention to yourself."

Giolio shook his head and followed along with Vargas into the building.

The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit hallway that smelled faintly of mildew and age. Vargas stepped inside, his senses on high alert. 

Inside, they knocked on a few doors and flashing the picture of the elderly woman. Most tenants either didn't answer or gave vague, unhelpful answers. However, after a few tries, a middle-aged man with graying hair cracked open his door just enough to peer out.

"Yeah, that's Maria Eitancantos," he said, squinting at the photo. "She's lived here for a while now. Used to be some big shot in the government, if I'm remembering right. Retired years ago."

Vargas frowned. "And the girl? Emilie? Do you know her?"

The man scratched his head, thinking. "Yeah, I've seen her a few times. Young girl, worked around the city doing odd jobs, I think. Maria used to take care of her sometimes, like a guardian or something. Haven't seen her in a while, though. She was a little strange, never trusted her."

Vargas nodded, his mind racing. "Thanks. Do you know what floor Maria lives on?"

The man pointed upstairs. "Top floor, but I haven't seen her for a few months. Good luck."

Vargas and Giolio continued toward the stairwell. Giolio glanced around at the peeling wallpaper and flickering lights. "This place is a dump. If she's a retired official, why's she living in a building like this? You'd think she'd have some fancy villa on a nice planet somewhere."

"That's exactly what I'm wondering," Vargas muttered, his suspicion deepening. "Retired officials don't just end up in places like this. Not unless they're hiding, or someone wants them out of the way."

Giolio smirked. "Maybe she's one of those eccentric types, y'know? Prefers to live 'among the people' or something."

"Doubtful," Vargas replied sharply. "If she's tied to Emilie and all this talk of null pylons and secret robots, there's more to her story. Keep your head on straight."

As they climbed the stairs, Vargas's boots echoed loudly, a sharp contrast to Giolio's quieter steps. The building seemed eerily quiet, the hum of the city muffled by the thick walls. The further they ascended, the more the air felt heavy, as if something unseen was pressing down on them.

"Top floor, huh?" Giolio whispered, clearly unnerved by the atmosphere. "You think she's dangerous?"

Vargas glanced at him, his expression unreadable. "Let's find out."

As Vargas and Giolio reached the final flight of stairs, they were stopped by a tenant coming down from the upper floors—a middle-aged woman carrying a laundry basket. She gave them a cautious look, hesitating for a moment before speaking.

"You two aren't tenants here," she said. "What're you doing on this floor?"

Vargas pulled out the picture of Maria and held it up. "We're looking for her. Maria Eitancantos."

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she shifted the basket uncomfortably. "What do you want with her?"

"It's important," Vargas said, his voice firm but not threatening. "We just need to talk to her."

The woman sighed and glanced up the staircase. "Maria owns the entire top floor. No one goes up there except for that girl, Emilie. Maria's made it clear over the years—it's off-limits to everyone else."

Giolio raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. "She owns the whole floor? Why?"

"Because she can," the woman replied bluntly. "She's got the money, and she's not exactly friendly. People around here steer clear of her. I mean, it's not like she's dangerous or anything, but she's... odd. Quiet. Doesn't mingle. And she's got this way about her, like she's always watching, even when she's not."

Vargas exchanged a glance with Giolio, who mouthed the word suspicious. Vargas ignored him and nodded to the tenant. "Thanks. We'll keep that in mind."

The woman hesitated, lowering her voice. "If you're going up there, be careful. Maria might not seem like much, but there's something... off about her. And that Emilie girl? She's nice, but she's tied up in whatever Maria's doing. Don't expect them to roll out the welcome mat."

Vargas thanked her and continued up the stairs with Giolio in tow. As they reached the door leading to the top floor, Giolio spoke up.

"Well, this just keeps getting better and better. So, not only is she a retired government official hiding in a dump, but she's also got a whole floor to herself that nobody's allowed to visit? Real normal stuff, Vargas."

Vargas gave him a sidelong glance. "You're one to talk about normal."

Giolio smirked, but the unease in his eyes was apparent. "Fair. So, what's the plan? Knock politely, or do we go full investigator mode?"

"'I' will start polite," Vargas replied. "You will stand behind and not speak a word.You are still a criminal."

"O-okay", Giolio nervously raised his arms, indicating he only meant peace.

As Vargas and Giolio stepped onto the top floor, the atmosphere shifted. The air seemed thicker, pressing down on them like an unseen weight. The dim lighting in the hallway flickered sporadically, casting long, jittery shadows across the peeling wallpaper. A strange chill crept through the air, though there was no draft to explain it.

Giolio, visibly shaken, pulled his jacket tighter around himself. His normally smug demeanor had all but evaporated. "Vargas," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don't like this. Something's... wrong here."

"Keep moving," Vargas replied sharply, though he, too, felt the oppressive unease crawling up his spine. His hand hovered near his holster, fingers brushing the grip of his pistol. "We've come this far."

Their footsteps echoed unnaturally in the silence, each step seeming louder than it should have been. The hallway stretched on longer than it appeared at first glance, like the architecture itself was subtly shifting. Every so often, Vargas thought he heard faint whispers, just on the edge of perception. He turned his head quickly, scanning the shadows, but saw nothing.

Giolio paused mid-step, his eyes darting around wildly. "Did you hear that?" he hissed.

"Hear what?" Vargas asked, his tone steady, though his muscles tensed.

"It—it sounded like... breathing. Right behind us." Giolio swallowed hard, his face pale. "I think we should turn back."

Vargas grabbed his arm, steadying him. "There's nothing behind us. Keep walking."

Reluctantly, Giolio obeyed, but his steps were hesitant, his gaze flicking over his shoulder every few seconds. As they neared Unit 17, the oppressive feeling intensified. The faint scent of old wood and dust mingled with something metallic, like iron or rust. Vargas stopped abruptly, holding out a hand to halt Giolio.

The door to Unit 17 loomed at the end of the corridor, taller than the others they had passed, its dark wood warped and cracked. The number 17 was barely visible, scratched and faded as though it had been gouged out repeatedly. A faint, rhythmic creaking came from somewhere beyond the door, like a rocking chair swaying in the dark.

Giolio clutched Vargas's sleeve. "This is insane. We're walking into some kind of horror show. I mean, look at that door! It's practically screaming, 'Don't come in!'"

Vargas ignored him and took a step forward. The floor beneath him groaned loudly, the sound reverberating down the hallway. He placed his hand on the door, feeling an unnatural chill seep through the wood.

"You feel that, right?" Giolio whispered. "This isn't just in my head. It's... it's like the whole place is alive."

"It's fine," Vargas said, though his voice lacked conviction. He turned to Giolio, his gaze firm. "Stay close. Whatever's in there, we'll face it together."

Giolio hesitated, his fear etched clearly on his face. But after a moment, he nodded, stepping closer to Vargas. Together, they stood before the door to Unit 17, the silence around them broken only by the faint creak of the unseen rocking chair.

Vargas pounded on the door firmly, the echoes reverberating unnaturally down the eerily quiet hallway. "Mrs. Eitencantos," he called, his voice cutting through the silence. "It's Investigator Vargas. Are you home?"

No response. The faint rocking sound from within stopped abruptly, plunging the floor into an almost suffocating silence. Behind him, Giolio shuffled nervously, casting wary glances back down the hallway as if expecting something to creep out of the shadows.

"Maybe she's not here," Giolio suggested, his voice quaking. "We should just leave. This whole place—it's not right."

Ignoring him, Vargas knocked again, harder this time. "Mrs. Eitencantos. We're coming in if you don't answer." His words hung in the air, swallowed by the oppressive stillness.

Nothing.

Vargas frowned, his unease growing. "I'm opening the door," he announced, his tone firm but low, as if speaking louder might disturb whatever malign force seemed to hang in the air.

He stepped forward, placing his hand on the handle. The metal was icy cold, and the faint scent of iron grew stronger. "Stay behind me," he ordered Giolio, who nodded, trembling.

With a sharp burst of magically-enhanced strength, Vargas broke the lock. The snapping of metal echoed loudly, startling even him. Slowly, he pushed the door open, its hinges creaking loudly, the sound almost like a groan of protest.

Inside was a nightmare.

The stench of death and decay hit him like a physical blow. It was thick, cloying, and oppressive, choking the air with the sharp tang of iron and the gut-wrenching reek of rotted flesh. Vargas instinctively recoiled, his hand flying to his mouth and nose. Behind him, Giolio took one look inside, gagged violently, and staggered back into the hallway, vomiting loudly.

Vargas grabbed a face mask he kept in his company, it would help filter out the smell and allow him to properly investigate. He put on the mask adjusting its settings to high and filter out as much smell as possible, but still some of the odor lingered on in his nostrils.

Blood smeared the floor in viscous, dark pools, its sticky consistency gluing Vargas's boots to the ground with every step.

Bodies—or what remained of them—were scattered around the room, their forms warped and grotesque. Limbs twisted at unnatural angles, faces frozen in expressions of agony, and torsos split open as if some unseen force had erupted from within. The flesh was pallid and bloated, crawling with maggots that writhed in the dim light. Flies swarmed the room in a deafening drone, their frenzied movements adding to the overwhelming sense of decay.

Symbols covered the walls, drawn in thick, congealed blood that had dripped and streaked down to the floor. They were jagged and erratic, yet disturbingly deliberate.

The arrangement of the corpses made Vargas's stomach churn—this was no random slaughter. The bodies had been placed with horrifying precision, their misshapen forms forming the outline of some kind of unholy ritual circle.

At the far end of the room, seated upright in a chair, was a corpse unlike the others. It was decayed almost to the point of being skeletal, its tattered clothing hanging limply off its wasted frame. 

The eye sockets were hollow, and what remained of its jaw was twisted into a grotesque semblance of a grin. The figure loomed over the scene as if presiding over the carnage, its bony fingers still clutching a bloodstained staff or cane.

Giolio peeked through the doorframe, his face pale and glistening with sweat. "Nope. Nope. Nope," he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky. "I'm out—I'm done—I can't... I can't—" He doubled over, dry-heaving, unable to even look inside.

"Pull yourself together," Vargas snapped, though his voice lacked its usual authority. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the macabre tableau. His heart pounded in his chest as a strange sense of foreboding gnawed at him, deeper than simple revulsion.

Vargas examined the corpse on the chair. "Mrs. Eitencantos", he mumbled to himself brushing off the stale gray hair from the corpse's face. 

Indeed the corpse had the same bone structure as the picture of Maria Eitencantos. It looked like the corpse had been here for months on end, slowly decaying with no one to find them. Yet, she was the last person Emilie had spoken to. 

If Giolio's divination was correct then Eitencantos should have been alive a few days ago, or else Vargas would have been the last person she had spoken to.

He examined the room around him studying the symbols and arrangement of the corpses, which all pointed to one conclusion.

"This is a demonic summoning", Vargas announced startling Giolio.

Giolio stumbled backward, his face going even paler. "Demonic summoning?" His voice trembled, and he pressed his back against the doorframe as if trying to physically distance himself from Vargas's words. "You're not serious... right?"

Vargas shot him a sharp glance, his expression grim. "Dead serious. This isn't some random massacre. Look at the way the corpses are arranged, it is obviously a ritual. The symbols are in Divine tongue, so it was either a demonification or demon summoning."

"D-demonification?", Giolio stuttered, not understanding Vargas' words.

"Demonification is the process of a mortal shedding their flesh and becoming a demon. Seeing as how our Mrs.Eitencantos is seated high and mighty above the rest of the corpses, she was probably attempting a demonification ritual."

"Uh-huh. Did it succeed?"Giolio questioned, staring at the corpse of the matron.

"No, her body wouldn't be here if it did. In order to successfully become a demon, one must gain favor from the gods through years and years of worship before even attempting the ritual. Even then it is not a given."

"So she tried to become a demon, but failed and ended up summoning a demon into the mortal realm?", Giolio questioned if his conclusion was correct, which Vargas nodded his head to.

"Yep, the demon must have been summoned through the sacrifices and then killed her. Seeing as how Emilie apparently spoke to her only a few days ago, the demon must have been a changeling".

Giolio's face paled further, his trembling hand clutching the charm around his neck as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. "A... a changeling demon? You mean it's out there somewhere, walking around, pretending to be her?"

Vargas nodded grimly, holstering his pistol but keeping his hand near it. "That's the most likely scenario. Changelings are cunning—they don't need brute force to wreak havoc. They thrive on deceit, manipulation, and fear. If it's been posing as Maria, it could have been orchestrating something far bigger than this ritual." He gestured around the blood-soaked room, his voice lowering. "This might have just been the first step."

Giolio's eyes darted to the doorway as though expecting the demon to burst in at any moment. "So... what do we do? Do we burn the place down? Call in an exorcist? What?"

"Neither," Vargas replied, his tone sharp. "We need to track it down. If it's a changeling, it's already left a trail—subtle, but there. We start with the tenants. Someone must have seen or interacted with it recently. The changeling's disguise isn't perfect, and it's likely slipped up at least once."

Giolio's knees buckled slightly as he leaned against the wall for support. "You mean we're going after it? Us? Just the two of us?" He gestured wildly between himself and Vargas. "In case you missed it, I'm not a demon hunter! I don't do this kind of thing!"

" I am an Investigator that deals with extraterrestrial threats, not demons. Yet, it is my sworn duty to humanity to take care of any threats no matter what,and as my prisoner you will follow along", Vargas sternly replied, scaring Giolio into compliance.