The flames wavered, dancing wicked shadows on the wet jungle floor. The smoke lifted into the sky but it was flavorless. The air was too quiet, too heavy, and it felt like it had sucked a fullness in like a swallowed breath.
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Dorian gripped his cutlass even more, the thick gritty handle of it channeling him. His pulse was slow and heavy but inside him there was a musing twisting, an internal whisper of wrong wrong writhing.
The Stranger was still chuckling.
Cullen was still here.
And the worst part?
It had some regressive feel to it.
Firelight picked up the faint image of a smile in Cullen's easy grin and the comforting curve of his head, beneath the firelight. He should have just gone with something. I had to touch reality, had to prove he wasn't right about that.
So he asked.
"Cullen. . .weird delicate, as ever. "Can you remember how we met?"
Cullen scrunched his face, then let out a little bark of laughter. "Fuck. No, of course I do."
Dorian did not budge. He patiently waited.
Cullen was all elbows on his knees, downward pointing. Blackport… "Remember? You know, the tavern whose sign had fallen off and so was cracked and the storm blew in… aye, they almost came to blows taht night.
You needed a crew.
I wanted a job.
Blackport.
Cracked sign.
Storm.
He bit into his skull with a stabbing hardness.
It was alive.
Rain running down his coat.
He could smell the ocean salt.
Sniffs out, Cullen laughs, chair scrapes on tavern floor, the way he sat…
No.
That wasn't right.
Dorian had never met Cullen in Blackport, not until that phone call from Tempest's. He met him in the game Tempest's Call. Finished raiding that slaver ship, saved him from the mess in the hold. That was real.
So why—
How does Blackport make even the slightest bit of sense to you?
Pounding against his ribcage.
He glanced at Elias.
The man had ashen skin and his jaw was so sore from clenching that it hurt his teeth. His hands fisted in the earth. White-knuckled
Elias wasn't breathing.
Because he knew.
He remembered most.
And it was wrong.
Cullens grin wavered. "What?" They stared at each other. "Eyeing me like that."
He made himself breathe. Forced the agony in his head down.
"More memory."
Cullen blinked.
"What?"
The voice of Dorian grew softer. "Oh, calm …" A trap.
"Another memory–Pre-wreckage."
Cullen snorted, rolling his eyes. "Bruce, this is a test? Okay. You tell me, the time we took the governor's map in Eldermire? You got it? Mm-hm.
A grin. Easy. Familiar. Wrong.
Drunk to the stick, almost had us t-boned—the Party-
Eldermire.
Dorian's stomach twisted.
Governor Map
That had happened.
He felt the parchment in his grip. Witness the wick tick out as it dances across the ink. The rum on his tongue.
He had never taken from the map in Eldermire.
He had never been to Eldermire…
Dorian gasped, his breath shuddered.
The crew had gone mute.
Because they were reminded too
Memories of what never was.
And yet….
And yet, they trembled as tangible as the soil all around.
A chill crawled up his spine.
This was more than he expected.
The Smiling Stranger's angle had changed.
And now it wasn't even. Not quite.
It was watching.
It was waiting, like it.
Cullen's smile fell. "What is with you people?" He sounded on edge, his voice bordering on cutting. "You're gawking at me like some dead body."
No one spoke.
Then…..
Elias let out a creaky breath , asphyxiating.
And he said:
"You are."
Fire flares
Cullen stilled.
The jungle clawed in
No wind.
No sound.
Only the eyes of the Stranger watching.
And the creeping horror slowly gathering up to ensue its slow march
And Then…. There Will Be No Turning Back
Cullen laughed.
It wasn't because of nerves. He was not fake, he was light. Almost joking.
He was funny.
He shook his head. "Hahahah, Elias."
Elias didn't move.
Dorian didn't either
He frowned, the fire flickering in his eyes. "You're serious."
Take a step back.
No one was laughing.
The grin faltered.
Then, his face morphed.
Like a mask falling off.
The floor is breaking down.
He was not lost.
He wasn't shocked.
She was afraid.
He just figured it out himself.
His breath hitched. He looked at the boots, at his stirrups fighting with dirt. It was like he was reaching for them. He wanted to be real.
"Captain," he said very slowly. ".... "
He stopped.
Heave face slack
So then there would be…
Ahhh. Where was I before this?
Breath hitched on Dorian.
No one spoke.
Cullen paused and looked to Elias whose voice was shaky. BEFORE THIS?
He flinched.
He knew.
Because he remembered the one thing Cullen didn't.
And Cullen saw it
His hands shook.
He lowered his voice to a mumble.
"I can't remember."
His pulse slammed out against his rib cage
Cullen took a step back.
"I can't….. "
Another step.
Breath stiffened, amazed. His hands were shaking too much to brace.
"Good ,' where were you before "
No one said anything.
Cullen spun… out into the jungle, up into the trees, like he was looking for something.
It was of course what suggested you saw something in shadows.
Heaving his chest.
He grooved into his scalp with the digits of his fingers.
And then…..
Then, the Stranger said
"Gone."
A whisper.
A verdict.
Cullen jerked to a halt.
The Stranger grinned. Grinned.
And Cullen screamed.
It was the right sound; of something giving way.
A man who had just realized…