"Bloody hell." Nullen curses, covering his nose. "It's as though the smell's gotten even worse." His boots thump against the wooden stairs as he descends, eyes falling on Carnage, who appears unbothered by it.
'Barefoot in a place like this? He must be asking to contract some disease; either way, I should keep my distance from him.' Nullen thinks.
"It wasn't this bad before?" Carnage inquires, surveying the walls.
"Nope, and it seems to be getting worse by the minute." He replies absentmindedly.
'How could I forget that look in his eyes?' The scene of Carnage forcing him to draw blood replays. 'Those words about helping me were all a lie; he only cared about himself and his survival. Anyone with a brain can see that, still, I do need him for my survival.'
"That shouldn't be, well…impossible?" Carnage's eyes trail along the growing mold, now passing the wall candles.
"Negative." Nullen adjusts his glasses. "For that, you'll need time, which this village lacks."
"I assumed as much." Carnage's feet step off the final stair onto the ground floor of the tavern. Instantly, he is seized by a chilling rush, the cold clinging to his skin like the grasp of dread itself. "It's…so eerie."
"In books, taverns are seen as a place of respite, not like this…" Nullen utters, disbelief underlying his voice.
'Respite?'
Carnage ponders, scanning the empty place.
'How could anyone come here?'
The old tavern harbors only three sets of dark wooden tables and chairs, the floors lifted and tainted by a multitude of liquids, one taking on the shade of dark red. The place remains barely lit, with a rusted medieval-style metal chandelier bearing five melted chandeliers, their flames neither growing nor falling.
'I'd hate to admit it, but this place makes me feel uncertain of what might come next.' Carnage steps forward despite his fear, towards the door, but feels a pair of eyes staring into his soul.
"Carnage." Nullen nudges his back. "Turn around…"
'A skinwalker?"
Carnage's mind spins with the many possibilities.
'We weren't even given the chance to adjust to our surroundings yet?'
Reaching for the shard of glass placed into the waistband of his pants, he turns, coming eye to eye with a man standing behind the bar counter.
'A huma—'
'No, a soul. Nobody's truly 'alive' here.'
"Hello, sir," Carnage says calmly, his hands clasping the shard tightly.
'Even though he looks human, that doesn't mean the possibilities of him being a skinwalker are any less.'
The innkeeper stays quiet, onyx eyes locked onto them, unmoving.
Dryly, he responds. "May I assist you?" His tone, mannerisms, and body language are all devoid of emotion.
'He's like a lifeless doll.'
"They become null, devoid of any emotion but longing." Nullen acknowledges. "Don't worry, this is how they are supposed to act, just like the person we saw outside."
Carnage relaxes. "So this is how they look up close."
"Exactly," Nullen affirms.
'I wonder if we can get any information from him.'
Carnage ponders.
"By any chance, do you know anything about this village?" Carnage query.
"No." The innkeeper replies sharply. "The history of this village should not be spoken or remembered; it is forbidden."
'Should not be spoken? Did something happen?'
He turns to Nullen for answers but notices his confused expression.
Thud!
"The history of this village should not be spoken or remembered; it is forbidden." He repeats, hands slapping onto the counters with a thud.
"Fuck!" Carnage extends his weapon at the man as he repeats the same phrase, his voice becoming louder by the second. "What's happening to him?"
"I don't know!" Nullen flinches. "But now that I think about it, this reminds me of something I've read before." He grumbles to himself as he surfs through his memories, finding nothing, only receiving a pounding headache.
"THE HISTORY OF THIS VILLAGE SHOULD NOT BE SPOKEN OR REMEMBERED. IT'S FORBIDDEN." Veins bulged on his forehead, yet his expression remained the same.
"We need to get out." Carnage urges.
"Maybe the guidebooks have it." Nullen's guidebook forms into his palms, and he opens it, ignoring the situation.
"Historians…" Carnage groans, snatching Nullen's arm, dragging him out the door in a hurry.
Empty streets greet them, alongside the shine of never-ending dusk, painting the skies.
'Shit, I'm shaking.'
Carnage lets go of Nullen and places his hand on top of the other.
"Nothing… There's nothing about it in here." Nullen's jaw locks as the guidebook disappears. "Why is this bothering me to such a degree?"
"You've studied these things for years, and suddenly you're forgetting; of course you'd be frustrated." Carnage begins to straighten up, only to freeze mid-motion as the faint sound of weeping drifts from within the tavern.
"Oh mia… why…why… I wish I could be with you…" He realizes it's the innkeeper.
'Regret and longing…'
"We shouldn't waste any more here." Nullen cuts in, turning from side to side, eyeing the two paths before him.
Snapping back, Carnage shakes his head. "Mhm."
'They're basically ghosts, living their punishment. It would be wise not to sympathize for them.'
"Which way should we head first? Left or right?"
"I think I'll be able to locate their exact location."
"What do you mean?"
"It's the way I found you." Nullen touches his glasses. "My magical artifact is the 'Glasses of discernment.' It allows me to see what's not obvious, and it showed me your location."
"I see." Carnage nods. "Then, since you said yours, I should also reveal mine. It's the key of awakening. I'm able to unlock any sealed artifact." He reveals the tattoo of the key.
"Gotcha." He nods. "There must be a reason why we are given these magical artifacts."
"Yeah, I got that feeling as well."
"Now." Nullen closes his eyes. "I just need to figure out how to activate it." He focuses, breath steady, and a faint glow begins to rim the edges of his glass.
'The guidebook only mentioned it briefly, but I reckon I've got the gist of it.'
"Left." His eyes snap open.
At once, he moves, leaving Carnage to hurry behind.
"How did you manage to activate it?" Carnage inquires.
"In the guidebook, it talks about how the energy seeped into the circles of hell." Nullen begins, and Carnage immediately calls upon the book, and it materializes.
Flipping through the pages, he finds it. 'The magics of hell.'
"Do you mean the magic they call 'Wune'?" He asks out loud.
"Yes! When I concentrated, it felt like I was drowning in that energy; all I had to do was absorb it and transfer it to my glasses." He answers as they rush down the streets, Nullen's glasses displaying a golden trail and showing how many houses are in between him and the other players.
'Wune, the force that powers the magical artifacts of the nine hells. Sune, the force that replenishes magic itself. And lastly, Aune, the primordial, that creator and stabilizer of hell, its creatures, places, and the other two forces.'
Carnage's eyes speedily read through the first paragraph of the page, highlighting all the stuff that seemed most important.
"So when activating my artifact, I'll see Wune, not the other." He whispers to himself before closing the book, and it disappears. "Noted."
Continuing down the path, Carnage catches only brief glimpses of wandering villagers, all moving slowly, faces pale, drained of life and emotions, their clothes old and withering, but they don't seem to care.
Soon, they arrive at a weathered cobblestone church, its heavy doors creaking open as one figure slips inside… then another.
Halting, Carnage and Nullen stare wide-eyed at the other two players, who hold the same expression.
'A girl and a boy. He has two swords sheathed at his back, and the girl a potion bottle.'
Carnage assesses them.
'The boy isn't reaching for his sword, so I guess we are not seen as a threat.'
"I'm the keybearer!" Carnage says first, loud enough for them to hear. "What are you guys? No need for names."
"I…I'm the physician!" The girl shouts back hesitantly.
"The historian." Nullen adds next, and they all turn to the green-eyed boy standing beside her.
He sighs. "The protector."
'Now we just have to find the rest if there's more.'
He directs his attention to Nullen, opening his mouth to ask, but a scream pierces the air behind them.
All their heads turn in the direction as a woman steps out onto the cobblestone streets, her face deadpan but her screams echoing in the air like bells.
'What the hell?'
Carnage steps back on instinct.
Her screams echo until they abruptly cease the moment she reaches the midpoint of the street. Everyone watches in frozen horror as the skin of her face peels back, dropping in clumps to the cobblestones.
Her hair sheds in tangled strands, and her limbs begin to swell, contort, and elongate grotesquely. Flesh sloughs off in sickening layers as her bones crack and twist, each snap rippling through the silence like thunder.
No one dares move a single inch.
'It's…'
Carnage's chest heaves.
'It's a skinwalker!'
「Demonic level: Tormented」
「Power level: 100」
"We need to go!" He spins, grabs Nullen's wrist, and bolts toward the others. The Protector snaps back to reality, unsheathing his sword from his back and dropping into a ready stance.
"Everyone get behind me!" The protector yells.
____________________
Hell's little secret: Folklore of skinwalkers
Skinwalkers were once humans who sympathized too deeply with the dead.
In trying to save the punished, they lost their identities and were absorbed by the dark matters of Aune. The more you pity them, the closer you are to becoming one.