Chapter 10: And time yet for a hundred indecisions

December 15th, 1997. Around 3 p.m.

Following Mr. Liahan’s surprise visit at my place and his asking me to come with him, we were walking through the city square which had been closed off from the general public after the incident earlier in the morning.

I looked around the uncharacteristically empty nerve center of the city, still full of life with many people in uniform running around. There were military officers, regular police, PRECIPICE agents. It was a mess. Mr. Liahan had handed me a temporarily issued ID for myself to wear around, given that only authorised personnel were allowed to access this area at the time.

We stood at the scene, and he pointed at the inscribed messages that the terrorists had left behind for us. Mr. Liahan asked me, “Will, can you read ancient Bespian?”

I looked at the inscribed letters 𑀢𑁆𑀬𑀼𑀁𑀫𑀳𑀸𑀤𑁆𑀯𑀸𑀭𑀫𑁆, as I said, “It reads Great Gate of Death right?”

“Intriguing. You added the great yourself… The official translation is Death’s Gate. But you picked on the nuance, and understandably added the great to it yourself. You are very fluent in a dead language.”

“Umm, well. I have to… I had to reference old documents for work. So I know it somewhat.”

“Mm… If you say so,” he said.

I don’t know what he wants from me. I feel like he suspects me of something. Of what…?

Don’t tell me!

“Mr. Liahan, could it be that you suspect I’m the one behind this…?”

He looked at me with a surprised look on his face. He then hesitated for a brief moment, before he said, “I don’t. But management does…”

That’s… Why is he being so honest with me? Something doesn’t feel right. No way he would just up and say that to me. He’s definitely being monitored by the agency, same as I am. Why would he risk saying this to me? It makes no sense.

I knew I had been coerced into joining PRECIPICE so they could monitor me better. At first I had assumed it was to prevent me from snooping around and figuring out their secrets. That they wished to keep me in close scrutiny so they could have me offed if I ever became a problem to them. But, why would they suspect I, why would they think I could do such a thing. How could I pull something like that off?

I lacked supernatural qualities like Mr. Liahan and the others. And I certainly wasn’t anything other than human—

“You monster!!” rang a voice inside my head.“You killed them all, it’s your fault. You’re the one who should’ve died instead!”

I shook my head, trying to ward off those thoughts, trying to prevent the emotions I had repressed from surfacing.

Crap… I haven’t visited Doc in weeks… I need the meds. I need to…

“William? William!”

“Huh? Oh, Mr. Liahan… Sorry, I uhh spaced out for a moment there… You were saying?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, before he said, “I can see that you’re worried. Understandably so. But, I believe you. Trust me, I do. You are not capable of doing something like this. You’re just human after all.”

“Human. That’s right… I’m just human. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Liahan. I, uhh… I needed to hear that. I think. I don’t know. I don't know what I’m saying, actually. Did I say something weird?”

He didn’t say another word. He simply nodded his head in negation, and turned his attention back to the site of the attack.

“Are you investigating the scene for clues…?” I asked.

“I believe I am…” he said, absent mindedly as he zeroed in on something of particular interest to him. He walked forward towards one of the inscriptions left behind by the terrorists, and brought out some weird tool from the inner pocket of his jacket as he began scraping the wall with it.

Silence followed as I saw the man noting something down in a writing pad he pulled out from the breast pocket of his shirt.

“Mr. Liahan… Mind if I ask a question?” I said.

“No, it wasn’t them,” he replied.

“I- I didn’t even ask…”

“You were about to ask about those monsters from the other day, yeah?”

“Yeah”

“Figured. And there you go. No’s your answer. This thing reeks of human.”

“Okay… But still. What were those things?”

I needed answers. His casual attitude towards all the supernatural happenings really threw me off. I get that dealing with this stuff is his job. But how could anyone be so nonchalant about literal monsters rampaging around the city?!

“So you remember seeing them?”

“It wasn’t just that time… Before too… On multiple occasions…” I said, before I paused.

That time when I tried to save the girl. That time when I was with Maria and she…

When I was with my brother… Dad… Jim…

“...Why is it that my memories seem so different than they were before? I… My recollection of them… It’s different now… It’s all different… I see those monsters there… They killed my father. They killed my dog… They killed Maria…”

Tears began to stream down my cheeks as my voice quivered. Mr. Liahan stayed quiet.

My breaths were heavy and ragged as I struggled to speak, my throat felt like it was choking.

“Why?” I managed to let out finally, barely above a whisper, “What are they? Why them? Why me?”

“They’re just as you are…” Mr. Liahan answered, “Human. They… were human, or at the very least living beings. What they are now is a fate worse than we can imagine that follows death. It is a secret of the world, kept extremely well for centuries now. Once a living creature dies, its body decomposes. It turns back to dust. But what of the energy that had sustained its life force until death? Science still doesn’t have a conclusive answer. But we do. The energy within a living creature can broadly be classified into two strict categories — life energy and death energy. Life energy is the one that sustains you and heals your body. That’s what we call Nourishment Vitalis. The death energy is what ages your body and kills you over time. That’s what we call Corrosive Vitalis. Now, at birth your Vitalis is 100% Nourishing and 0% Corrosive. This, however, shifts over time and your CV begins to dominate over the NV, and by the time you die, it’s 0 N and 100 C. This deathly 100% corrosive energy that resides in the corpse slowly dissipates back into the environment around it. Shamanistic religions have called this passing on. However, the truth is that oftentimes this deathly energy transforms itself into a creature of death. It sounds paradoxical, but it’s essentially a reanimation of the soul. Most of the time, the body itself stays dead. But the soul finds itself reborn as this dead being that we call Corroded. Now, we unfortunately don’t know much about these guys. A lot of our knowledge is entirely speculative but from what I know, these guys should spawn in the realm of Corrosion and experience a life (or lack of) in there, until their Nourishment Vitalis overtakes their Corrosive vitalis and they may be reborn as a living creature again. From what you can see, that very much isn’t the case… A lot of Corroded have been wreaking havoc in the living world for ages now. And that’s why we’re needed. They have also been constantly evolving, and some studies show that they might be learning to manipulate Vitalis themselves. Which is beyond concerning, if true… Oh I’m really sorry, that must be a lot of information to process right? I- I’m bad at this mentorship thing… This is my first time doing it… Sorry!”

“No, it’s uhh… Fine. Thank you for telling me about… Everything,” I said. My brain was still trying to process everything I heard Mr. Liahan say. It was merely words to me at the time, but slowly it registered in my head. The more of this information I digested, the more confused I ended up becoming.

“So…” I began, “Corroded… Right… How come there’s been nothing about this ever published?”

Mr. Liahan chuckled, “You’re fucking welcome for that. What do ya think would happen if the idea that we’re living through a monster apocalypse, and have been for centuries, gets out? You already got a taste of it with the incident earlier today. It’s gon’ be that but a million times worse. I cannot imagine the sheer Pandora’s box of chaos that would unleash. We keep it under wraps. That’s our main goal. We uphold the world’s peace, by killing monsters, news leaks, and in unfortunate cases our fellow men… It’s a small sacrifice for the greater good.”

I think he perhaps heard me gulp or noticed my eyes slightly widen as reality began to set in for me, because he smiled and said, “Relax. I’m not gonna kill you. Yet.”

“Yet…?” I echoed.

“If you can promise that you’ll be a good boy for me, I will consider letting you stay alive.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that.

And so, I didn’t.

“I’m starting to feel a bit light headed. Can we meet again tomorrow, Mr. Liahan?” I asked.

“Sure, why not,” he said.

“Alright then. Have a good day Mr. Liahan.”

“You too, Will.”

—

December 15th, 1997. Around 8 p.m.

I was meeting an old friend named Hank Packer, a colleague from my time at Crater Daily. Of course the incident today was massive. There was no way PRECIPICE could keep this one on the DL even if they wanted to. And I knew any journalist in their right mind would kill for a scoop tonight. So, I contacted the reporter I knew I could trust the most and ensure my anonymity, and I was ready to spill the beans.

My goal from the start, and ergo my reason to maintain this journal has all been for the sake of getting the truth out before the world and its people.

I couldn’t care any less if the agency would hunt me down, or if mass unrest would break loose as a result. It was my duty, and everyone’s right — for the truth to be out there.

“So you’re telling me,” Hank said, “that there’s been a zombie apocalypse going on for centuries? And nobody except the government knows… And, that some other third, possibly supernatural, party is pulling the strings right now? Will, even for you this all sounds a little…”

“Do you think I’m crazy, Hank?”

“What? No! I never said that!”

“Do you not trust me?”

“How can I? This whole story just sounds ludicrous. And so much stuff just… doesn’t add up here!”

“Even the agency doesn’t know everything about those guys.”

“Doesn’t matter if they did. Especially if it’s on the Ravens’ watch. You know how it is, don’chu?”

“There’s no possible way an incident like this could be hushed up!” I said.

“If I had to guess, they’ve already sent the official version of the events to all the major news firms to publish. That’s how it always is. That’s probably how they’ve kept all of this stuff a secret for so long. Look, Will… I believe you. I know you’re an earnest guy. But there’s so many things that you need to consider before you should act.”

He patted my shoulder before he turned around, said good night to me, and left.

I felt like a failure.

Again.

It was a feeling I was accustomed to by now. But that didn’t make it feel any less frustrating.

I had to do something. Throughout my life I had failed in every possible way. I had failed as a brother, as a son, as a lover, as a friend… But I was not ready to fail as a journalist. I couldn’t.

This was my last chance to prove myself.

“I trust you Liam… You can do anything if you put your mind to it. I know you can…”

Why am I remembering this now…? Hah… Maria…

I stood there silently. I remember I just stood there for a long time. There, in the dark alleyway on the very outskirts of the Entertainment District, bordering the Metropolitan Area. My only companions were the sounds of the lively night district floating into my ears from the nearby distance, until I felt a presence approaching from behind.

I turned around sharply to find a figure obscured in the shadow, my heart beating out of my chest in panic. But all the rushing adrenaline fell to silent ease at once when I heard his soothing familiar voice. It was Doc Faust.

“Good evening William,” he said as the faint light from the streetlamp in the corner illuminated his face. His eyes were piercing as ever, like they could look into your soul, and his smile was warm and full of kindness like always, as he greeted me with his usual firm handshake.

“Hello Doctor. It’s been a while.”

“How have you been doing, Will?”

“Good…”

He shook his head with a soft laugh. “You always say that. Okay, let me do one better. How have you been feeling, Will?”

“...Conflicted,” I replied after a slight pause.

Wait. Wait… What is he doing here? I mean, I guess this place isn’t too far off from his clinic… No but he walked up to me with purpose. Like he knew I would be here. He came here looking for me. How?

…Why?

“I can see you have questions for me, Will. Follow me back to my place. I’ll answer them all… Also, it’s time for you to get your shot, remember?”

“The pills also ran out a week ago Doc…”

“You’ve been a very bad boy, Will. We can’t allow that, can we? Come on now, to the clinic.”

Everything’s been a mess today… I need to take my mind off everything… I just can’t think anymore… Thinking is exhausting… Breathing is exhausting… Existing is exhausting…

I want to rest.

—

A few days following the big incident. While the rest of Crater City was still reeling from the shock, and struck with a booster dose of panic, the Entertainment District was fine. Everything was going on just like usual. It was some time around eight in the evening, when I stood waiting on the pavement opposite the bar that my insufferable partner frequented. It was one of the more niche establishments in the district, but it had a very loyal clientele comprising a certain, particular demographic of men.

I didn’t need to wait long before that good for nothing pathetic excuse for a man walked out the doors, fumbling back the buttons on his overcoat, and fixing his tie back in place. He looked at me with his signature snark that I oh so wished to punch right off. But I knew he was working just as hard as every other agent in our organisation and then some. He could use whatever recreation he needed right now, and I would allow it.

“I felt some ominous aura in the air around me… Though I was expecting the fury of a woman possessed by Leviathan himself… Guess it’s just you.”

“Expecting your girl here, were you? To scowl at you, and call you all the names that a perverted whore of a man like you deserves to be called?”

“Pfft, alright bud. Choose your next words with care. You ain’t no saint yourself. But fuck all that. What brings you here James? Must be something important if it couldn’t wait till tomorrow…”

“One, fuck you. Two, do not call me that. Three, we won’t be meeting tomorrow.”

“Why…? Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah. It’s just a funeral I have to attend”

“A funeral?” he asked, with a sharp look of surprise on his face, “Who died?”

“The woman I was seeing,” I replied with a shrug.

Liahan stopped for a second, before he burst out laughing. He then stopped himself, as he said, “I’m- I’m sorry about that. I just… Bwahahh… Sorry!”

“No, no. It’s fine. Don’t be,” I chuckled, joining in his laughter.

“You say the woman, like there was only one. Now save me all the bs. Which of them was it?”

“The widow Price. She was… 62 I think? Yeah she died on the 14th.”

“Oh sweet old Mrs. Price. Saved herself from the tragedy she would’ve had to witness had she lived another day. So…? How much did she leave in your name?”

I smiled as I looked at him. “All of it.”

“SON OF A–!” he exclaimed.

I laughed, as I said, “Alright, alright. Now back to business–”

“No, no. Hell no. Don’t just change the subject. So you inherited all of granma’s fortune”

“Basically yeah,” I answered.

“Fuckin hell… Lucky bastard… Fine, let’s get to business for now. What’s up?”

“So, I found some information that might interest you,” I said, my tone now serious.

“I’m assuming it pertains to Will?”

“It does.”

“‘Kay, I’m listenin’ go on”

“He’s been meeting Faust in secret the last few days”

“Say on God”

“On God, on God”

“Well… So that’s what it was. Shit, I should’ve known… He was feelin’ smarter too, until he wasn’t.”

“I also have another piece of info”

“You investigated the pager logs he been sending, like I told you to?”

“Did. And, here’s what I found...”

—

“Have you been selling us out, Will?” I asked the guy as he stood in front of me.

He looked at me with a surprised look on his face. He was too easy to read. His face betrayed his heart way too easily.

“Wha… What do you mean, Mr. Liahan?” he stammered.

“Do you take the agency to be fools, William? You paged several reporters from Crater Daily. What were you thinking?”

“I… umm… That’s a breach of privacy!”

“We kill people who we deem a threat to the city’s peace. You think the agency gives a rat’s ass about your privacy?”

He stayed silent, his head hung low in shame. He was like a kid who just got scolded by his favourite teacher at school. You couldn’t help feeling pity for the guy. He was like a lamb.

Innocent, meek, harmless… The perfect sacrifice for slaughter.

“Only 1 of the 6 reporters responded. You met with him in secret that evening, din’cha? Hank Packer?”

He was terrified.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “your friend is safe. I hope you’ve taken your lesson. There’s nothing you can do to change the world, William. No article, journal, or book will have the effect you hope for. The agency oversees everything. Your enthusiasm for your little cause is admirable, but you’d best redirect it elsewhere if you don’t wish to retire to an early grave. If the agency decides you’re a threat, I wouldn’t hesitate pulling the trigger on you.”

Yeah right. As if. Nobody in their right mind would order a kill on him. If he’s a problem, we might throw him in a jail. But killing him, never. Regardless, I need to intimidate him for now to keep him in check. I think it is working.

He stayed quiet for a bit before he spoke.

“So you pinned the blame for the incident on some innocent civilians for the sake of your so-called peace and order?”

“They weren’t innocents. They were convicted ex-agents of PRECIPICE who had abused their abilities. They were scum of the earth who were given more redemption than they deserved through their death. Yes, we made them our scapegoats. It’s a far more humane solution than the truth.”

“Humane?! Lying to everyone is humane for you?”

“Yes. You’re nothing but a naive child if you think otherwise. I’m disappointed in you, William. You’re a failure as a journalist if you don’t take the welfare of the masses into account. I hate to say it. But I’m right. And you know it too, don’t you?”

“Stop… Just stop. Stop speaking…”

And as William cowered onto the ground before me, his hands clutching at his ears desperately trying to cover them, I could feel an unease in the air around him.

Yeah, this guy’s a legit problem. I need to do something.

His Vitalis levels seem the same as before. If Jay’s report is correct and William did meet with Faust, something isn’t right here… If Faust didn’t give him suppressants or inflate his V levels, then what did he do?

It was then that I noticed something even stranger. Will suddenly fell silent abruptly in the middle of his confounded fit. He then got up slowly and looked at me with a blank, confused expression on his face.

“Will…?”

“Yes, Mr. Liahan?”

“No… It’s nothing. How’d your appointment with Dr. Faust go?”

“Dr. Faust…?” he asked, “I’m sorry but, who is that?”

What?

One look at his face, and I know he isn’t lying. William Korspole is a terrible liar.

He really doesn’t remember?

Did that motherfucker wipe his memories or something?

Just what is going on?!

> To be continued

Author's Note:
I binged all of NBC's Hannibal recently. I think it shows lmao.