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Gerry’s day had gone from bad to horrifying almost too quickly to track. He’d been looking into the Cult of the Lightless Flame, as he’d had it on good authority they had a Leitner in their possession, a nasty one that would burn you alive if you read it cover to cover. Gerry hadn’t hesitated to take the job, it was just like countless others he’d done over the years as he rebelled against his mother. Luckily the old hag wasn’t going to be able to reappear for at least three more days.
The whole thing went by in a blur. He’d set up a meeting with Diego Molina, dressing up and meeting him at a nicer club around midnight. They’d moved to Saint Mary’s churchyard, which Gerry soon realized was a trick so the bastard could burn him to a crisp and not so they could negotiate a price. Molina had grabbed him and started reading aloud from the book, apparently unaware that it’s primary function would burn him , and that burning Gerry would just be a side effect. Gerry struggled, trying to break the grip around his wrist, then everything was fire and pain and smoke.
Gerry almost gained consciousness a couple times on the ambulance ride, but it hurt and there were people buzzing around and he didn’t know where Molina or the book went and he couldn’t focus long enough to figure it out.
He didn’t come to until much later ( 2 hours the Eye so helpfully informed him). He took stock of his body: It fucking hurt. Second degree burns covered everything up to his neck, where his pendant had been. It was missing now. Lost or destroyed, who’s to say. His tattoos had survived, though the same could not be said for his coat. Damn, he liked that one.
He wasn’t sure exactly what had woken him until he, very painfully, flopped over and took in his room mate. Molina was starting to chant. And that did not bode well for Gerry or anyone else in the A&E. A nurse came in, obviously hearing Molina as his volume increased. She looked uneasy, and moved to do something truly foolish.
With strength he didn’t really have, he shot out of the hospital bed and grabbed her wrist with a bandaged hand. So much for not helping strays , he thought a little bitterly to himself, though in his heart he knew what he’d said to that woman in Genoa had never really been true. He was too tenderhearted for his line of work.
The nurse screamed, and Gerry immediately dropped her hand like she’d been the one to burn him. He often forgot his own strength, and the painkillers that didn’t seem to be doing their job were making his head spin.
“Sorry,” He grit out through the pain, trying for a sheepish grin but probably ended up with a grimace. “I was only trying to protect you.”
The nurse held her hand to her chest protectively, eyes narrowed. “From what?”
Gerry gestured towards Molina, who was staring at the ceiling and still chanting, though he hadn’t moved. Realizing that wasn’t exactly an answer, he glanced down at his own mummified form. “Touching him would be…a bad idea.” Now that the woman was out of danger, his body screamed at him to lie back down.
He expected questions, just like many of the others he’d tried to help over the years, but she didn’t respond. Smart lady. The silence stretched, until Gerry awkwardly cleared his throat.
“So…did the paramedics bring anything in with us? A small book, bound in red leather? Or a brass pendant?” Gerry had a hunch that the Leitner had fucked off to wreak havoc elsewhere, and as he asked he Knew that his pendant had served it’s purpose (saving his miserable ass) before disintegrating under the full wrath of the Desolation. Pity.
The nurse confirmed that neither item had been brought in. Gerry stewed for a moment, mourning briefly his pendant and his coat, as well as the opportunity to destroy that book. He had to come up with a plan, before Molina killed everyone here. Every nerve ending was on fire, and Gerry could tell he was making the nurse uneasy. To be fair, he felt like shit and probably looked worse. He shoved the pain as far down as he could. He just had to kill Molina, then he could pass out again. He could do that.
With a nod he limped past the nurse and into the corridor. There had to be a supply cupboard fairly close by, one with a scalpel or something else sharp enough to do the job. The book had probably weakened the guy so it shouldn’t be hard to get rid of him.
The lady followed him, asking what he thought he was doing. So much for being smart , Gerry internally snarked, but he could almost smell the Eye’s hooks in this woman, her curiosity outweighing her fear, at least for now. She was going to be fully Marked by at least one of the entities by the end of this encounter.
Gerry ignored her, punching the 4 digit code in without thinking as Beholding fed him the numbers. He scanned the shelves, finding a sterile scalpel wrapped in paper in plastic without too much difficulty.
In the doorway stood the nurse, blocking his exit. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to do something to her, especially when she wasn’t even involved. He took a few shaky steps forward, the pain sending jolts through his system, and was in front of her in a second. The room was small, and he could see her mind whirring behind her eyes as she tried to decide if Molina was worth it. The dry heat was all encompassing, setting the fluids in the bottles that lined the shelves to boil. He didn’t have much time before the whole building caught fire.
She stepped aside. Gerry nodded, letting out a small breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Yes. For you, better Beholding than the Lightless Flame.” Man he must be on more painkillers than he thought, if he was talking openly with her about her choices. At least she chose the Eye, it was probably the safer of the two options. Maybe he was a little biased.
Gerry limped back into the room, where Molina was almost shouting. “Shut up you waxy bastard,” he muttered, and plunger the blade into the center of his throat. A sizzling sound filled the room, accompanied by the smell of his rotten flesh barbecuing. His neck blackened and cracked, the bandages curling and disintegrating. He went up quickly, though the flames were not visible. It took maybe 20 seconds before Gerry was standing over a pile of ash where Diego Molina had been.
Almost done , Gerry thought as he grabbed the empty bedpan from under Molina’s bed. He gently swept the ashes into it and passed it to the nurse to get rid of. She did, and when she was gone Gerry dropped his facade of wellbeing. Tears welled at the corner of his green eyes, the only thing stopping him from just collapsing into his hospital bed was the Knowledge of how bad it would hurt if he did so. So he carefully tucked himself back under the sheet, and let the darkness that had been dancing at the corners of his vision for a while pull him under.
Gerry spent four more days in the hospital, doped up on painkillers and barely aware of who was around him. When his mother came to pick him up, he mourned the loss of his freedom until the next time she faded out of existence. She was in a terrible mood, and at first Gerry thought it might be because he didn’t get the book and give it to her, or that he was hunting Leitners behind her back again. But then he remembered how pissy she got whenever he got hurt on his “excursions”, especially when an avatar was the one who messed him up. For all the hurt she’d caused him and still caused him, she always was weird about other people hurting him. Maybe it was the barest hint of a motherly instinct. Gerry doubted it.