10/05: Misplace

After I’d docked my ship at Nevivon, I managed to crash at some run-down, abandoned sea shop, and went to bed behind the reception desk. The things in this place like being all up close and personal way too much, because, again, I was woken up by something making noise in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes to see some cat-masked woman straddling me with a toothy grin.

I lunge forward, trying to headbutt her and get her off me, but she’d read my moves too well and headbutted me first, sending me collapsing back onto the ground with a splitting headache. A smile grew on her face as I blocked her grab with my metal arm, straining up against her grip with the mettle I could muster before managing to give her hard enough shove to disorient her and land a blow across her face. Her mask flew off, skidding onto the wooden floorboard and I could finally see what she looked like.

Red-head, blue eyes, freckles ... it looked like Portie, Jules’ younger and spry sister. But she was only laughing at me, and Portie only laughed when I was being made a fool of. She would have been annoyed at me in this situation--actually, she’d probably be angry with me--and if she had me pinned she’d be giving me that icy glare I’ve seen her give Jules when he looks like he’s about to break into Az’s Magic Shop again. Her smile too, it didn’t seem like her either; it was just too eager and not human-like, just like everything in this world kept appearing as.

I grunted, managing to give her a strong shove off of myself and scrambling up to my feet, “You’re not Portie.”

“Is that what you want to tell yourself, Lucio?” she giggled, standing up like one of those string puppets and leaning against the dusty, wooden counter, “Do you need to be knocked off your high-horse that much to realize I am Portia?”

“No, you’re not,” I growled at her, trying to sit up again only to have a deadlock grip between her clammy hands and mine. “Ery wasn’t Ery, so you’re lying to me.”

The sound of the shop door creaking open echoed through the room, the heavy footsteps of boots pressing on the old, worn-out wooden floorboards as another masked figure takes to the fake Portie’s side--I recognized that stranger’s tacky plague doctor mask immediately, “It ‘wasn’t Ery’, huh Lucio?”

″...You’re not Jules either.” I snapped him, getting ready to draw my sword.

The hairs on my arms stand straight up as I heard the duo laugh in unison before the thing that impersonated Portie walked closer towards me, “You really ... aren’t going to face the reality of this? You haven’t changed at all, Lucio, even if...”

She is sizing me up, and I could see a drop of drool escape the corner of her lips before she licks it up with her rotting tongue, ”...Even if you’re definitely not the right one.”

I clutched onto the hilt even tighter, “I’m getting sick and tired of everyone here talking in riddles with me.”

“Jules” tilted his head at an angle I didn’t think was even possible before he adds, ”...You think He would make a mistake?”

I heard the bones in “Portie’s” neck snap as she turned towards her brother, her smile stretched so far that it looked like her jaw would unhinge at any moment, ”Ilya, He’s been so far gone that I think any Lucio would do for him.”

“The shortage of a meal, too,” the person claiming to be Jules slowly bobbed his head in agreement. “So, guess He did make a mistake after all.”

I’d finally had enough, “Can I please know what the hell is going on?! I’ve had to kill things that looked like my dogs, I’ve had something that looked like my boyfriend shove beetles inside of me and let me run away just because he wants to toy with me, and now I have you two talking weird! Who are you two, really?! And what have I done to end up in this place?”

They fell silent, just staring at me and then at each other for a painfully long moment before “Portie” grabbed my metal arm and yanked me with an inhuman force towards her, “Nothing dies here anymore, Lucio--not since the Red Plague infected everyone.”

“Wha-” I shook my head at her, “No, the Red Plague died out and I--er, Ery and I--stopped the Devil!”

“But it came back again,” fake Jules added, a hiss escaped him as he chuckled. “And who do you think was responsible for that?”

I couldn’t argue with them on that, ”...What about Az? Ery? I saw Az’s body down the street from his shop.”

“Eridæus and Asra don’t exist anymore,” a rage was laced in “Portie’s” voice, reminiscent of the Portie I knew of, as she slammed me against the wall, breaking down into a fit of laughter, “You betrayed them both--do you get it now? You betrayed Eridæus and saved yourself; you sacrificed them both to Him and they took it out on the world, trying to hunt you down.”

More of her face began peeling away, the pieces of skin sprinkling onto the floor, “It wasn’t The Devil, but a relative of him is what He calls himself. Using Eridæus and Asra’s rage to manipulate them both, Eridæus’ body became the vessel of all three of them; Eridæus, Asra, and Him. A new version of the Red Plague ravaged the world; we’re immortal but hungry.”

Before I could do anything, “Jules” cornered me as well, “Particularly, for the person who caused this mess to begin with.”

Slowly, he removed his mask, showing me how both of his eyes were that sickly bloodshot I’d seen in myself all those years ago, “But, you’re not the Lucio who ran away from us--clearly. You’re someone else, a misplacement. He’s snatched you up, and now you’re stuck here.”

He then wrapped his sticky, glove onto the nape of my neck and squeezed down hard, sending the biting pain further down my body, “And it seems He wants to convert you, too. That’s cute--guess He can’t help but be a savorer towards you.”

I hissed at him in pain, “Get your hand off me, imposter, before I cut it off!”

“Like you could,” the fake Portie hissed, “Relax, won’t you? Even though we’d much prefer to tear you to shreds, we’re at least appealing to His good side.”

She finally let go of me, tapping “Jules” on his shoulder to do the same, “He wants to toy with you, so he’ll listen to us keeping you around for a while.”

Another giggle escaped her, “But you better find a way out of here, just like you did last time, Lucio, and fast. It doesn’t matter if you’re the wrong one, He wants you.”

I watched “Jules” readjust his plague doctor mask back on along with Portie grabbing her cat mask off the floor. Everything was still a load of information I wasn’t even sure how to process, ”...Where are you two going?”

“To find more food,” bloody-eyed Jules answered, taking to Portie’s side as she left the abandoned shop. “You remember where our old cabin is--go there if you need shelter. But don’t make yourself too obvious, Lucio.”

The familiar hiss escaped from him and I tensed up as a long, snake-like tongue peeked out under his mask, “You’re lucky Pasha and I still have something left to hold onto. Everyone else? Heh, I guess you were right about Muriel being a ‘brute’ after all.”

I managed to find the old place, just taking some old, smelly, blood-stained cloak off of a skeleton nearby and draping it over myself as I quietly headed to Portie and Jules’--at least since they claim so much they are the same Portie and Jules I know--old cabin. I finally found the place, looking just as disheveled and desolate as every other part of this town did, and managed to head upstairs and take a seat on the dusty, flesh-riddened bed and write more stuff down in this notebook again.

I’m not kidding about the flesh-riddened--that’s what’s wrong with this place--everywhere I go it’s stained a gross, saturated crimson; that smell I kept smelling from myself, the fake Ery, the fake poochies--or maybe they weren’t fake--it’s the smell of decay. There are people but they look like a collection of meatbags with legs, and their eyes... they remind me of the rabid boars we’d see back at home, the Scourgelands. Manic, insane, and wanting to hunt -- is that what they meant by “hungry?”

I don’t know what “I” did here, and what they mean by “I was misplaced,” that I’m “not the Lucio they’re looking for.” Despite the rot that’s now spread to the back of my ear thanks to Jules squeezing it, I can tell I’m nothing like the things here; I stick out like a sore thumb. I need to channel that sense of survival I learned from Ery when we were on the run from The Devil, and when I spent time with him in his hometown once.

Shit, the pain is worse now--it’s pulsating, oozing inside of me and the pinpricks of beetle pincers tearing through me keep increasing in intensity. The smell on myself is getting stronger, and now my skin is beginning to show a bit of peeling; not down to my flesh, but still.

I don’t know why I write in here, maybe it’s to pretend I have someone here, someone with me as I face being dropped in a world that’s not my own all by myself. In the past, I never had anyone and just focused on running; I then had Ery all by my side when I finally fixed my mistakes. But now? I’m all alone and faced with a mistake that I didn’t do ... at least I don’t think I did it.

No, I didn’t do it.

It must be that thing messing with my head, now that it’s put its magic or whatever inside of me ... maybe it’s going to try to make me think I am the Lucio it’s looking for.

But I’m not.

I’d never do that to Ery, I’d never betray Ery and my friends like that a second time.

I’d never do that.

The sun’s setting and I’m sure if I stay awake, someone could find me. I’m gonna barricade the door and sleep with my sword nearby--getting real sick of things watching me sleep around here.