“-and so I just sort of….flew here after that. Your directions were spot-on. Thank you for that.”
Chrysalis leaned back, sinking into the mound of silk cushions that had been heaped against a far wall and taking in the scents of those who had rested there before her.
She had closed her eyes, delving into the memories and finding herself honestly surprised by how much the events had blended together, leaving only a few choice images to stand out like stones in a river.
The grimy-tasting air of the slums that she’d entered, the cobweb-covered concessions booth in the old movie theater, the look of sheer, animal terror on the woman’s face as her killer entered the theater; the gleaming button eyes on said killer’s mask.
Now she opened her eyes and saw that she had an audience besides Narcisse.
Sitting on Narcisse’s left was a fat man with paper-white skin, dark gray circles under his eyes and yellowed teeth; his clothing was opulent and covered with jewels and bits of bone, and Chrysalis caught a quick movement of something under his shirt, something slimy and black.
To Narcisse’s right sat a lean man with blue skin, eyes which her nearly the same shade as her own, sharp teeth and two curling horns which protruded from a smooth, hairless brow. This man was sitting cross-legged, tapping curved talons on the stone floor as he watched her with interest.
Chrysalis sat up and looked at each of them, her eyes narrowed, “Who are you?”
The pale, fat man blinked owlishly, “Huh?”
The blue, horned man elbowed him sharply, “Are you serious?!”
“Sorry, I was caught off guard.” said the pale man, raising his hands defensively, “I was listening and then...I kinda slipped away.” He turned to Chrysalis, “ What did you ask?”
“She asked you your name, dumbass.” said the blue man.
“Oh, my name is Leroy Gomm.” said the man, smiling at Chrysalis.
“And I’m-” the blue man started.
“Oh, and he’s Lude.” said Leroy, cutting him off.
Lude growled and slapped at Leroy’s shoulder as the former guffawed.
“You keep doing that! Why?!” He snarled.
“Because you always react the same way!” laughed Leroy.
“How long have you been listening?” asked Chrysalis.
“Since a few minutes after you started,” said Lude, “Me and Leroy, we can enter and leave a place as silently as we wish. One of the perks of being us, I suppose.”
“Well that’s certainly an interesting story.” said Narcisse, looking intently at a nearby statue, “Can you describe anything else about the masked man?”
Chrysalis shook her head, “I told you all I saw. He was a tall man in a suit and he wore a white mask with button eyes.”
Narcisse narrowed his eyes and clenched his hand into a fist before turning around and saying, “I need a minute.”
He turned on the heels of his cowboy boots and left brusquely.
Leroy and Lude both shrugged and turned back to Chrysalis, their intent to ask further questions evident. But the sickly-sweet smell of worry drifted to her and she got up, leaving them before they could ask anything more.
She caught up to Narcisse fairly quickly.
“Alright,” she said, “what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing.” said Narcisse, shaking his head.
“No it’s not.” said Chrysalis.
“Listen-” began the former-human, turning around to face her, but one look at her stern glare made him stop short.
He fidgeted under her gaze for a few minutes, worrying his lip as a hand went to his flayed scalp.
Finally, he sighed and sagged against a pillar.
“That man you were talking about, the one with the mask, I’ve met him before.”
“What?”
“After I….modified myself, as I lay dying, ready to join my true family, someone came into my room. He had such a calm voice and I wondered how he could be so nonchalant when looking at a man who's just cut his face off.”
Narcisse swallowed thickly.
“I couldn’t see him. I was a bit preoccupied anyway. I felt myself fading fast and then...and then I felt a needle in my arm. He injected me with something and then...and then….”
Chrysalis felt his emotions rise: anger, horror, humiliation.
“It felt like every organ in my body had restarted. He told me that he had injected me with epinephrine, the stuff that forces your adrenaline to start going into overtime. He said that it would give him time to see a few questions answered.”
Narcisse released a shuddering sigh and slumped against a wall.
“The last thing that I saw was that fucking face of his and his voice never once rose, even when I was screaming. He just sounded so...so damned calm!”
He drew a hand across his eyes and looked away.
“Did you see his face, his real face?” asked Chrysalis.
Narcisse shook his head, “No. I only saw that mask, but that voice sounded so familiar.”
She was about to question him further, but a sudden, unnatural cold behind her made her turn.
The shadows behind her disgorged a tall, bearded man with steel-gray hair, pink skin, red eyes and two sets of wet slits, three on each cheek.
“You are Chrysalis?” he asked, his voice raspy, but commanding.
She nodded, “I am she.”
“My name is Dirk Lylesberg. I am the second-in-command in Midian, I speak for Baphomet when he cannot and I personally deal with any issues which arise down here.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lylesberg.” said Chrysalis, inclining her head slightly.
He nodded and gestured to the wall behind him, where the shadows widened and opened like a flower in bloom.
“Baphomet wishes to speak with you.”
The chamber which Chrysalis found herself in was massive and utterly beautiful.
The outer rim of the massive cavern dropped off into nothingness, with raised lips of stone keeping the deep waters that surrounded the center floor from falling away.
Above her a thousand gems glowed in the vaulted ceiling, their light shimmering on the still waters.
Before her, surrounded by members of the ‘Breed robed in gold silk, was Baphomet itself.
Chrysalis felt her heart skip a beat.
Despite the massive wounds that tore through his heavily-muscled torso.
Despite the fact that his legs and one of his arms were hanging by a few scant threads of meat.
Despite the luminous, ragged clusters of white viscera that showed through the rents in his skin.
Despite the robed ‘Breed collecting his dripping blood in bowls and feeding to him to keep him alive.
Despite all of this, Baphomet the Baptizer emanated a power that matched that of Celestia and Luna combined.
His eyes, pupil-less, green and blue and as bright as the stars, gazed at her curiously.
His lips parted and he spoke, and his voice echoed and boomed like a storm.
“Welcome to Midian, Queen Chrysalis.”