Between the Veils: Mirium

Who is Mirium anyway? We see her at all times of day, she plays with the cats and never says anything that can be dubbed a polite utterance. She might become a character. It’s hard to tell with such shallow show, does she limp? A little, sometimes, though never when there’s shopping bags in her hands or draped on her arms-never with food in them- so perhaps she’s one of them. A fraud. Once there was an old cane resting on the bench, abandoned, the grip still good, and she just walked past without a look. If she needed it she would have taken it. Wouldn’t she? Unless...she likes the embarrassment, the pain. Or is a fraud. One of them. She is probably on benefits. Her clothes are never clean but her skin always is. Too clean. Pallourous. I get the feeling she’d be brown otherwise. Does she do it on purpose? I stayed up. Late. She was out, goes out at night. A lot. Mostly actually. She’s not gothed up though- a coat like that, sure, black, but too bulky, meant for a man, certainly not a fashion choice, a subcultural identifier. She’s not into that vampire stuff. (Pity). Does she ever fucking do anything else? Looks forward, shuffles the leaves, polite utterances, no-one knows her-but they know her name somehow. They told me. I’m going to follow her.

I’m not avoiding the issue, you are. As you’ve always done. People are looking at me oddly. Harshly. I can always see the gelatinous whites around their beady little pupils, disgusting, moist, bulging, those pupils grow so wide I can't tell what colour their irises are. Really. Soggy whites. Dilated depths. Are there thoughts lurking there? Don’t think so. Merely reaction. Instinct. Fuck knows what that’s driving towards. It aint drugs. You can tell. Yeah, yeah mate, you can't really- everyone is on something from pills for fun to pharma-poppin' hypochondriacs, the natural stuff between, and them fucking crazy chems from Europe better suited to farms than brains, hey; but you can tell. It int drugs, habits and forms and respectable times of day, or at least sneaky locales-nah. Always, lately. And they look at me. Fuck me, mate, I’m walking to the shop and now I’m thinking even the squirrels are doing it. Them cats always have, of course, that’s expected, int it? Well, yeah, you caught me, I smoke da reefa lol. But is that really what you’re after? Look, for once, listen. Something int right. Look, look at ‘em- nah I int paranoid. You see, you see that? They was looking. I gotta go. I gotta get out of here. What? Yeah. Here’s my details-

Oh, me. Well. Very simple, dear. This is my bench. I come here at 4 o’clock sharp, every day. That’s a good time, you see. Most of the flux of kids from the school have gone, you only see the stragglers and those who play down there in the field, I’m grateful for the lack of din and the parents usually give me a nod or say hello. Best time of the day, I think, the birds restful after naps, the light good, the other animals scamper about. Really quite nice, you know. Peaceful. You see the name on the plaque? That’s my husband. Firefighter. You see the school down there, that corner of the roof with the red paint? He died there. No kids died though, or anyone else. Just him. So I sit here and know peace. Some of the parents were pupils then, actually. Funny that. I like to say hello. I suppose you don’t want to know about that. But you should. That’s why the bench is here, wunt none before. I admit I bloody hated it for years, decades. Why on earth this practise? They don’t even put the reason for commemoration. Nothing, just a name for cheap cider to get spilled on, cigarettes stubbed out on. Some dates. Then I got old. Saw a few generations pass. The grief got less, the anger too. Sort of. Still keening I am. Always will. That's how it goes. Anyway. Population shifts about nowadays, with still the same old families or those who kept settled. Yes. I've seen her. She says hello too. Now, I'm off. Look on the back of the bench, at the graffiti. That's a commemoration! Cheeky little kiddies, hey?

So. Nice mural aint it. Saw you here from down there. Got a light, want a cig? What. Oh. I know it's him, all hero like in his uniform, with the fires, and doing the business of rescuing but from down there it looks like a dinosaur. You should have a look. Me and my mate are never sure if the borders are hearts and kisses, or graves pre-emptively surrounding him. The scratch marks are from later, some goth kids did it. Respectfully, if you believe it. They talk to the old bird sometimes. Personally I think it's kind of brilliant. We like her round here. You get me? Might look like another rural town but we like things the way we like 'em. Even if it has changed a lot. Much more city types in town centre and new housing. Affordable, int it and some chic thing happening with the old shops apparently. Is that what you're looking for? The central bus takes you. Now dont think I'm suspicious or threatening or anything...but I heard they found a body last night. The new bloke who lived down there. I didnt like him. Then, here you are. Can I have the light again. What? Oh. You like it. Yeah, she's a nice old bird. Got some friends, people take to her. Lots of people actually, and nah, not always much. Sometimes just the social stuff. I'm like that. Most of the time. Some people are weird though, there's been a lot of change, and it aint all liked. People shouldn't ignore that. Right. That's me done, this goes in the bin. Cheerio.

I like ketchup. I'm new to the area. Still getting used to the twists and turns. Funny how you get lost sometimes. I had then. When I found it. Found him. Fuck. Sorry. Think it makes it easier. Sort of. I'm writing a thesis, that's why I'm here, needed the quiet but also a bit of nightlife. So to speak. He spoke to me a few times, followed me once or twice when I was drunk. Cant exactly say I'm bothered he's dead but it was fucking awful seeing him with his guts ripped out like that, throat also. Kinda brutal. Odd, considering my research...it's like I should have anticipated it. But you dont. You cant be prepared for that till it happens. Do you know what I mean? The areas still cordoned, they're investigating still. You part of that? Or like me? Well. Fuck. Why dont we talk in the pub? Not sure if its respects, of course, but a toast neither. A bit of numbness. It's like; I know this stuff happens, it's a risk, specially...and I know anatomy but you dont quite expect that. Actually visceral. Here, let me get you a drink. Two ciders. Nah. Whisky. Actually, both. What? Oh. I dont know, you wanna hear about that? The role of chemistry in meta-physical beings with a focus on the fact behind mythology. It's what you'd expect. Yeah, I meet interesting people. Like you. Get the feeling you've had encounters. I've felt this before. That's why you're looking for her. Mirium. We talk sometimes. Are you a friend?

I dont know much about that. Bit weird you askin' an' all. I'm just putting up the display, that's my mainly what I do here. Sometimes I think about moving to the city, getting a proper visual merchandising job. But I dont think the kids would appreciate it. It's our home here. What do you think, another skeleton by the graves over there to balance it out? We're havin' a spook-tacular sale, you should come back in a few days. Sure it's only a small shop but the donations are good, even plenty of brand names if that's your thing. Bet it is. Hold the witch why I tie up her strings would you. There. You see? Looks good and that's about the sum of the supernatural stuff I know. Is popular round here I will say. Very pagan area actually. Even the old church got taken over for museum displays, always closed on a Sunday though you can look at the sculptures on the grounds if you want. Worth doing. Now, your best bet for properly searching is the window over there on the shop. There's a few houses and a flat I think, cant help but read them on the way in. Stay out of Beech Close, gets the factory stink as winters coming in now. No-one needs that. People never stay there. They should plant a stand of trees by the fence again. People weren't happy when they cut them down as it was. Is. Right, I'm all done. What you reckon? You shouldn't worry so much, people are the right sort round here. Mostly.

Kitchen, lovely view of the front garden-established flowers, ooh- and some might say it's mightily unusual that the front door leads here, like the house is back to front. Part of the charm, the cookers included, drainage up-to-date for appliances. front room leads to the back garden and wall to wall cupboards, a rare must. Concrete out back, no need to mow the lawn and carpark behind. No reserved space as caters to retail. Follow on up, bedroom looking at the green and street- protected trees, those, ancient. Bathroom, all mod cons and the airing cupboard and boiler. Loft up there- standard. See, I already know you're gonna take it, perfect little place, good rates. Neighbours? They're alright, most always been living here plus some Arabs as of last year, and Russians the year before, then the two shared places on the end, med students and college types- changes every year. Apart from them, everyone's a bit older. No screaming kids! A bit of music now and then. You say you work away a lot, we have some on staff that can visit by appointment to air the place out if you need it. Free of charge, covered by commission as it were. Deal? Good. We can sign papers and exchange keys now if you want, you gotta good check. Let's go downstairs. I hate seeing the police cordon fluttering like that.

Want another cider? Bit leery innit, tonight. I been here four years myself. You know how it goes. got a place after rehab. Yeah, I'm clean mate, total tee-totaler. Life is peachy keen. Real special. What the fuck is going on with all the shouting- swear to fuck if they come over I am having a word. Gis a smoke again, would you. Did you, did you hear about the body? Knew him from down the other pub. It was sudden like. He werent even out that night, nothing to do with us. Look at them stairs, look. Swimmin' a bit int they? I int pissed mind, feeling rough awhile now. Must be coming down with something. Feeling all hot and giddy. And, man, these dreams. Keep getting them. Either kid stuff- the way my blanket felt, stuff like that, or these fucking terrors like I'm fighting every fight I ever had. I'm aching. I int the only one that gets it. One of me mates clean fainted yesterday. Proper face planted the floor. He's alright. We laughed our asses off, but it werent the same. Kinda brittle, like the world was watching us do it and not happy. We int happy either, so maybe the world and all them people in it shoulda treated us better. they all could. The looks we get, when we're just being what they raised us and escaping what we can. That is how it is.

What the fuck are you doing here? Get the fuck out of my fucking house! Who the fuck are you? What the fuck. Stop. Stop right there. Put that down. Fucking now. Alright then. There. Now. Are you taking me seriously, are you? I will fucking shoot you. Slowly turn that switch on, there, that one for the overhead. Ok. I recognise you, you dumb fuck. New to the area, you're actually living here, I've seen you. What the fuck are you doing. You've been reading these. Interesting. Sit down on that chair. Are you listening. Who sent you, him or her? Has to be one of them. My partner will be home soon. How much of this have you read? Fuck damn but arnt we in trouble. Huh. That bits not true by the way. You look smug. What do you mean you're independent? It dont work like that round here. Either you know, or you dont, or if you do you choose. You rocking up to my gaff, breaking in, fucking about with my stuff looks like a desicion to me. You connected to the hassle we been getting at the factory. Nah? Wait, where's the gun, where did it go? You've moved. Get on the chair! Fuck. What the...wsnt. I telling you. That bits not true. This cant be true. No. Stop. Dont come any closer. Look at the photos. She's like us. She is. Or are you like her?

Body went missing from the morgue. Seriously. At this time of year. Dude, hold the light closer, your screens locked. Yeah, what was I saying. That's enough weed I think. Yeah, you can turn that off now. Hate it overloaded. So. All a bit much really. He weren't the first either, people dont seem to be putting that together. Had two other instances of dismemberment over the last...not sure, maybe four years. One was decomposed. They didnt go missing though, no families, state cremation. I guess after evidence gather, so the papers say, but no follow up. Even quiet online and when does that ever happen. Toke? Not the only murders mind, this does happen, but those are different. And this ones gone walking. That's got to stir up notice. Now dont look at me like that, I'm not a conspiracy theorist, these are facts. Yeah I walk out late and - cheers- like a msoke in the evening but I'm not one of these drug-addled pissheads you worry over meeting. I keep an eye out. Surprising how busy it gets sometimes, how I get chatting like now, with people like you. Though not always, they tend to ask more mundane questions. You know how it is, we're creatures of habit, of routine- all existence in demand and wanting to chill out and enjoy what time we have. I dont like it when that's taken in sufferance of others. Dont like seeing it, but I do. She agrees with me. We talk. I'll tell her you asked.

Yeah, I know what you're after. Seen you around. See, it started like this. I hate her. Here she was, new to town, and we were both in a shop. She bumped into me, hard, not looking where she was going and it pissed me off. I'd fallen off my bike recently and was bruised. Told the bitch to watch where she was going and she gave me this pretty little frown like she was better than me, like I'd touched her and didnt say anything. People think she's polite, but she's not. I've hated her since then. Seriously. Stuck up. And look at her- she's not actually that beautiful really- weird looking, must've had work done. I'm sure she sneers at me, looks at my wrinkles, grey, my fat- didnt have any of that back then. I'm sure she hates me too. Why doesn't she get a new coat. It's ridiculous. Same old thing. She didnt have the limp then, actually, that came about 10yrs later...ish. Never knew what happened. She doesn't deign to speak to me. She could've though. Might of laughed a bit. Maybe. She still limps, must've been bad. Has bruises occasionally, they always fade quick and there's never been a man about her so it int that. Walks like she owns the place. She has got a right to, so do I! I believe in equality enough for that if I dont apply to that feminist label. I'm satisfied with myself; dont need it. She's always the same her. Thirty odd years.

Stop, stop that. Hey. Huh? What time is it? Fuck damn, the suns almost up proper. Hey, you wake me? Why am I asleep here? Shit. I was so knackered after my shift- factory - I must've passed out. Did I stop for a smoke? Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Aw my everything hurts and I'm so damp. Is...is that blood? Huh? Yeah, yeah I'll sit for a bit, my heads spinning. Why do I feel so hot? I cant remember. It does get like that though, actually, on the graveyard shift. You done work like this? Alrite really, repetitive. can you roll this? Hands are shaking and I cant see straight. Huh? Yeah. There's three factories. Them and the book binder, car parts and animal experimentation. Planning another, could be said a move and re-opening really; chemical lab. Fertilisers and stuff. Improving business prospects and accelerating industry. There were a big team meeting about it. What? Nah dont matter which one I work for. You only woke me, I dont know you, do I? This is pissing me off, everything is so damp, keeps going out. Is that blood? Did I get jumped by a fucking activist again? Twats. Thought we'd run 'em off. Done is done, get the fuck over it. Want to keep us in the dark ages they do. Piss taking little hypocritical fucks used the binders to print their pamphlets- so do we. Ha. Heard they got a deal though, fucking fucks running round screaming- mother earth, animwals, and attacking us. I'm gonna talk to security about this. Little shits. It is blood.

Oh yes, love, you are in the right place. Now, you can go through the grand door-but you should save that for another time when you are by yourself and can appreciate it. We use the side door here, good thing you found me, hey, I'll sort you out. One moment. Mira! Mira, theres two bags donated on the step! Get them, would you! wanna cuppa!? Do you? She's deaf in one ear, dont mind me. We aint the whispering types. Beautiful, isnt it? Library card or tour first? Mmmm, oh. The bags. Left overs from the other shop, we run a help the homeless and poor drop in every other night. There is actually a kitchen in the new building round the side. I say new but it was built when the castle was taken over. We're 180 years strong, one of the eldest in the country. It is not a folly, merely modest. We're bonded with the museum- call us the muses-a-bry'ns we do. You get it? Personally I've been here all my life, my grandmother before me. I'm training my son up, but he's all fired up over tech updates and securing what we do with publicity rather that text preservation, so- I guess that's good and maybe his daughter will follow in more traditional steps. The restricted areas are in the turrets and the basement is for analysis and guided research. Special permission from me only. But help yourself to the grand rooms, ante and cubis. That's where the public books are. I can let you have a peek though, if you want? Follow me. Huh, sound like him now. See, I am modern.

No, I dont think so really. We have moments of it, I grew up with the so-called re-development and that's where you can see the shift in status. Guess I'm used to it. There's something unfortunate in that. I sorta remember before, and I've seen the pictures. It really was lovely, a very old settlement here and over the centuries and millenniums it resisted changes that swept across the land. Turning point during the witch hunts, totally rejected state and church, the land owners being openly descended from tribes you see, and gentle folk. Played our part in politics too. Oh, now who's awake? Hello little love, here you are. We're periphery in many ways, but never outdated. couldn't be, hey, though...oh now, wait a moment you, dont flash me and fuss. You dont mind? You shouldn't. Anyway the planning previous adhered to that ancient layout and the post-war development of government has allowed a blue creep, they bought up the lands surrounding and are voting in this constituency. Shush, shush, let go of my nipple now and let me lay you snuggled down. There, there, my love. How's that? Happy? Love you, sweetness. Essentially we got sold out, driven by need to produce harm, to profit from brand history whilst burning out the good. Relics. Dusty. Ashes on the war tide of old winds. You've settled in now, love. That's truly where the fuss is in the community. Where the violence happens. Where the bodies fall. Us? We hold to the old ways.

Too many scribes spoil the broth, but darest thou write the juicy bits with a lavish tongue and much bite? With stones and secret might or maybes no-one else supposedly knows? When, ha, but your old tricks are seen, all secret glancing of this word and that phrase. But, oh wait and what time is this? Narrative facts and threads of deceit. And, of course, as bull stubbornness lays in wait, the way grows myriad. When shakes lurch from minds, what does the mirror show you, self, what does eye see and in seeing perceive: the tale perhaps. The totality. A step forward in a space called time, all cogged geared to a fuller knowing that tock tolls in a more regular rhythm to those de-mondi where I is. Underneath the surface, flesh is supple soft. Blood flows with beat. In tempo est ae ri thae. There is made. Moments. Falling like raindrops. Oh leaves, pooling- making streams. feeding rivers and lakes. How quaint the cosmic dance as it hurdles on, now mechanised to deliver the chemical traces of dismal enterprise, entropic demise. Tempering councils that denounce and accommodate a future. We spin, spin and sip our soup after waiting in lines. The first stone in the path. Do you see the lights, pretty wanderer? They take you from where you are and move you to what you should be. I know many tricksyier than thee.

Vivacious. Learnt that word from Chaucer. I think, hrmm. I really dont see why we need to change anything. Why. You look surprised. Read the paper, I'm known for my honesty. I would remind people that conservatives do conserve. I acknowledge the double entendre there also. We've received some complaints, it is true, however, as these directly relate to criminal activities and are there-fore in jurisdiction- itself- we are remanded from any action regarding these arguments. It is an issue for the courts. And yes, of course, If the complainants actually fill in the right forms and applications regarding specific issues such as planning permission proposals, or public meetings for spending, a reasonable proportion will be granted the legislated right to be informed of the decisions made. As we make them. This is all we are required to do, as affective control of the region. Any further application goes central, if all of the previous can be evidenced, proven and given reply or receipt. Meetings are non-ticketed. And again, it pains me to keep saying it, issues with private companies must be taken up with them directly. We are pledged to invest in local business, it is our duty to do so. Thus the shares. Due to this so-called conflict we, the council, may not comment on those proceedings.

Yes, well, people need to remember the farms has always been farms, bringing wealth to the region- and used to be supporting the population. It was the ownership that soured. Now they use that to accredit approach. As if it weren't us, it always wus. Products switched about a lot, en massed. Bulk sales and quick transfer to the factories northwards that make the junk food... they have guaranteed sales contracted to schools. Cheap oil and chips. Forced veggie bits with barely any nutrients- those got washed with poison anyway. In some places, not all. I'm going to the bar for another pint. One moment. Hey. So. Where were we? Apparently the open mic starts soon. Poetry, usually ends with a house play in, music whirls us in and out of lock-in on a Friday like this. Relax. If shitheads come in, we toss 'em out. They have Tuesdays, after they've fixed out at the pharmacy. Cunts. Rest of the time it's mixed, events scattered on the calendar. Interesting stuff. Folk dont stay that quiet round here, but you know that. It's peaceful we like. I'm gonna tune up. Mind your glass. Best to fill 'em well. How ever much you can get. Fuck all these isms. Reality prisms and spectrums are what we feel. You like blues? Who does, who does. But it catches us and we get it.

So. You are from the Agency? I'm new. Forgive me if I err. I have good sight though. I've had a word, and she's seen your face enough times now. I can get you some alone time in the vaults. You know the student? She's regular, we'll overlap your appointment with hers. They always get chatting and scurrying up the towers for references. Very excitable. You'll be overlooked. Put everything back perfectly. Thanks for the copies of files. They went back to sleep alright? We need to publicly oust them, no good silent work in the shadows. They do try to avoid that round here. I...do know someone whose as close to a friend as she's got, if others may make claim. They may be willing to speak with you. Perhaps not. You know how it is. Busy, busy. Did you like the soup? I find recopies relaxing. Step by step, watching the results. Such simple sustenance, truly, the whole making better the parts. You understand, information is a form of nourishment. To be informed enables both consent and consensus. To be nourished infuses action to reflection, the ability to act cohesively in both sustained self and us. Admixtures of belief are the field from which the ideal arises, many branched and bearing fruit, turning leaves with solar season. Here, we understand the moon watches over all.

When did pop music start? Something changed then. It's not like the old popular songs, not really, as manufactured as it is. Commodified messages and propagandised acceptable rebellion. Sexy lyrics. Romantic swoons. Suitable deviations, placed discreetly in clubs when too raunchy or ribald for the radio. They get away with some nowadays, dont they? The messages seep into a norm. Culture is de-valued even if the capitalistic competition still captures some majority feeling. Croon it, obviate the bass, spit some caustic action and get classic on the sing-a-long. Turn the adverts up. It's hollow talk. Can you here the choirs singing? Bells aren't popular anymore. Stealth mode the masses, sublimate the functionality, enforce the moral of the story, the tall tale, the pitch. Got an itch? Buy something. Eat the fad food. Eat too much, then make yourself sick, stick-thin replaced arms. Replaced voices that should be heard with images fallow with desire gumptionless and well-groomed. Trend mainstream, show us what ya got. They dont get much. Emotion is a coin they want to spend solitudenly, muffled in lonely headphones, lyric scripted not spoken. To the ensuing numbness they respond with what seems like sensible suggestion, then start stoking the fear with all that grim news. It's standard.

Didnt reckon much to the catering, supposed to be a 4* but was just the usual factory floor scrapings dressed up with a bit of salad. We anticipated that- they dont think much of foreigners there despite the tourism drive- and budgeted for eating out. I tell you, that was worth it. Never mind these expensive attractions and tin-can tours, all sweat and blather. What you want is a good meal and a decent view. Bit of sun, get a tan. We're ramblers and as you know the islands only small. We saw the sites, took pictures of the ancient places. Used to be part of the same culture we still have here, so we didnt mind the anti-tourist stuff. We get it. We do. Must admit we took a few souvenirs, got in a bit of bother with customs. You have to let go of the past I say, no use holding on. Should've served better food. Now. So. I'm back, hey, at the desk. Where are you? Ah ha. Your application has been suspended. These sort always are, they need a police check and clearance before freedom of data can be enacted. This may take up to six months and I must warn you...the case was never solved. Shelved. You probably wont get access, not without a court order and...you need this reply form. Is that all?

Sorry I'm late, wasn't sure if I was going to come at all. Is this where we're sitting? Ok. Hi. You ok? Ok. Oh fuck, sorry...that was stupid, I'll grab a napkin. Here, here, I'll do it. There. Sorry. Ha ha ha. Such a clutz. Shall I sit, have you ordered? Menu, ta. Right. I usually go for a special. Dont usually date- is this a date?- usually by myself. Specials are a special price, look, they got meatballs or...can't read that. Shank? Like, a knife? Lamb! Oh. Oh. Hi. Yes, I'll have the meatballs, coffee, water, thanks. You ok? Yeah, together. Thanks. I know him a bit. Am I talking too much? Oh! Drinks. Cheers. Thankyou. Oh. That's good. I was so cold! sugar will ease the shakes probably. Dont mean to be embarrassing. You're kinda quiet. I feel awkward. I dont know why, but I feel you want to know more about the assault? Was a year a go. Never been right since. Weren't before really, got in a bad relationship- usual abuse really- so I signed up for the activist group at the library, helped with the leaflets, then on my first foray got stabbed. It was definitely a heavy for the factory owners, his brothers a councillor. Out-of-towners but we saw them conspiring two nights before. Got me on my way home. I quit the group after that, then got dumped. My ex was a tory. That's it, really. Oh, hey, food! I do, I still do some illustrations for the group. Email them. They do use them, haven't given up. You joining? Is it ok if I say this was a date? I love parmesan, dont you? I dont usually do this.

Do you always find the desire, or are emotions separate? How long have we been sitting here? My thoughts sway, listing grudges and pledges and chores and yet I keep to talk. Talking. That's not usual for me. I can when I need to, but have little want. I see. What I think with. I dont think I'm much good to you. Now, her! She can see like this, like me, right through and with you and you dont need to talk just be in thinking, in experience and emote the shape and colour of what you is, and are, and was, and will even whilst will itself is subsumated in shared selves, scars, silences, succour, secrets, secretions, sighs, and then that awful sickening when you're alone in the world again. In your own dumb skin again, stupid again, solitary. Such small and fine sifting as auric felt and longing for that vastness, that inter-connectedness once more and once more always comes again and I am lost in the love of my choice, my consent to part with but a part, to relinquish that so readily, so really made and gain all that there is to gain and yes mythos true you. Glimpse what is beyond and contain more than you give. Expanded in awareness, momentous led. I do not fear what I see, for it is me. I am friend, where others enemy.

I dont clean my windows, I dont want a pristine view into the house, into the bedroom, better the accusation of grime, the hope of past-time. Guarded by natural order and decay, the miasmic microscopic bass that thrums with profuse perforations of the pattern in swells and spoors and caught particles, yet so particular in its dismal mundanity. Passers by see that when they try to look in, and I see them fully with the windows open and the pick-a-mix values as banally explained speak volumes, interpretations to auto and usual movements tell clearer. The face becomes a theatre mask, lined heavy with shadow or light lit curves, illuminated. Light here dapples through leaves that are left on the trees, in this here tendril standing of primordial woods. No curtains, no lace but that naturally made. I watch the sky, feel for the thunder.
I tell no lies.
I seek asunder.
I ride, when called, and rise gleaming, with my sistren strong, we wild and free, we the woten we remembering and so wroten.
I thirst for better knowledge.
I am hunger, and the pain.
I am what sufferance gains.

I am also from the agency. Is she really a manifestation of the end? That is a very dramatic inheritance. We've seen it before. Typical, artist in hide-away, brittle bewilderment when not in sharp wit? High spectrum psychic-psy PTSD. Partially why they adhere to the value of the arts as central to culture, not just becuase a lot of them remember the heights of it, era by era. A refuge from their darker urges, siphoning the spite and malice, the anger, the pestilence of honourable vigilance. She remains in bounds of concordance? Must say, at least that parts a relief. We're tempted to give a go ahead on this, but need further reports regarding a-typical behaviours. And the rest. They tell me you know what's what and more, so I want newbie lecture from you. Any insight? We...we have had a previous encounter. Possibly. Records got fucked in a flood, rescued enough but trouble reading. 1841, 47, 92, 96, 99. An acceptable human lifespan, which she replicated through out. She was noted as older development then, as you did. Not sure what that says. She'll probably get away with longer, this time around. We're concerned about signs of injury. She is capable. High tier; apexed abilities. Listen, elsewhere, they're still saying the same thing: the war is long.

I...am quite good at hacking. Tech in general, and with surveillance assist we could gain access to private accounts, select avis, bank accounts. Once contract is established, programme access and files. We can hop their IP's with note of physical device. Publication can be done remote. It's becoming regular practise now, transparent demand. Mira filled me in. Dont get them muddled up. Your support is appreciated, and it is acknowledged that...their are decisions yet to be made. We have made ours, in that regard. We've cast our cards, and tossed the die. Read the pips, and nurtured the seed we did find and found much rot beside, these putrid loons who rob us blind and pollute the conscious with rape and reeving? Fell and foul, fiscal legacy falling. With too many reaching for pennies. So. Anyway. A digital stepping stone race to be informed, pre-emptive of haste and the patterning of control that can be adjusted. The blood bath would be simpler, but that lurid detraction has had last laugh as evil so often constructs this in brutal literality. We adorn the web, and weave thoughts. She makes them confront the fallacy. This life becomes their hell. condencing in refractions, and the super cool notions of regret, do you get it? Connect. Todays spectators of the courts. Ain aemari.

Please. Please stop, just get the fuck off me, get your fucking hand off my throat. I swear to fuck I will back this up. Fuckin' snarl in my face. Do you really think I wouldn't support my family? They dont rape 'em. That's an exaggeration. They ask for it, get shamed, lie. Same old story with these girls. If you want it, own it, I say. If not fucking dont. The rest is bullshit. Who the fuck do you think you are? You think they'll be happy when they hear this? Yeah. Mate. Totally. You fucking idiot. You rile 'em up, they'll fucking do you. I aint fucking with you. I aint. Why you keep staring like that? At least we get the fuck on with what needs doing, we earn our way, take what we owed. It's the fucking system. We got the best, are the best and we will fuck you if you fuck with us. And, whoa, what yer done? You fucked with me, laid hands on me and I'm busy right now so I'm gonna save this for later and when I come back I wont be done. I know where you fucking live, mate. I seen yer going in there. You didnt see me, did yer? Now yer do, though, hey, now you fuckin' do. Now get the fuck outta my face, bitch.

Oh gosh. Did you hear about the fight? The pubs smashed to bits. Missing body, past murders and a now a massive fight. Bloody hell. Is everyone turning into a Renfield? Sorry, I'm in the writers group, we meet twice a week and well, actually, castles echo a lot and we heard some. Amped up the inspiration but also this concerning niggle that things are getting fucked up again. I dont suppose you are doing some epic cos-play? No. Shit. Ok. Have you...have you got other forms of magic that will help? Too much to hope for? Argh. Right. Can I just....ok then. Mmmm? Oh. Just tweeted something. #T.O/V. yeah, we're concerned. As I said also writers, so we talk about shit a lot. Our readers talk too. It's the circuit. This is not the only place that's had enough of the vileness. There is action. There is talk and talk wroten. There is change. Its always been the message, at the heart of the stories, the fabled longing for awareness. The wish for the gifts and might to overcome tyranny and realise. To be hero, amongst heroes. To bring legends to life. To live legendarily perchance. To have courage and resolution and enough wit and resilience to gentle flaw. And not let flaw rule but flow. To not rue choice but only woe, and seek wisdom in each answer found. For love.

What do we think about? What when we're not thinking. Clearly the brain remains operable in other functions and in functioning fuels sensation into dimension. Triangulating systems breath space. Planar objectification. Think us witches prefer to typified sexual, all tits and posed. Piss take. Proper annoys me. Can we put a black cover on it and have an equality in diversity and quantatude of men and women? Are they still denying the fluidity of sexuality? Glance at a horoscope. It's wet there and shadowed. What is seen is optional reasoning. Both of process and configuration. Graphs are useful if you use them beyond a mere structural representation but forma of the structure itself. How many hours was I reading? I think something strange has happened to me. I feel curli-cued. Obtuse. Made fat with elongations and potentials. Values susurrus against and face us, as we part and bear proud. I got lost in some poetry for awhile. Help is not the equation it is the foundation. To be able to act is to help. Help is given in choice. Help enables. Sizing up potential, ambualting purpose. In these constructions options are sought. We are strange speaks, fordained enough to perceive. Though in the turning all is reckoned, measured, attenuated, woven through itself and wrought. This is the singular.

It's...you're early. I wasn't prepared, had you scheduled in a couple of months. Admit, I'm rather annoyed. Yes, I have found the paperwork now- I am organised! Where's my tea? So. Look I do understand, you're like me, go where you're told to and do most of the work, right? You have a look through that, here, stick the bluepapers in your cupboard. Red, yellow...ok. They got the cheap tea again...coffee ok? Not seen you before. I just need to...yeah, ok. Shall we? All inspection sheets are in the plastic cubbies, I have the key if you need to check further back. Here, yeah. Mmm. This one's been cracked ages. Watch your step. Ok. there. Yeah. Next floor? Right. Me? Aren't I enthusiastic enough? It's a job. Pays better that other positions and...that's this floor done. Those stairs? Oh. No where. C'mon. Please. I'm not scared. What? Through? Fine. See. Just a door. You need clearance. There's the sheets. You do? I dont. I'm not allowed...wait. Stop. No, I heard...let go. Down here to the basement, where the sluice is, here's a hardhat. Yeah, it's noisy. Real noisy. Stinks too. No, no chems in the atmosphere. Of course not. Shall we? Offices? Drink? Sit. What? I shouldn't say. It's just a job. But...but. I know. You're like me. Have you been here before? Some of the workers say, and there was this one night shift- I work so many night shifts I dont know what the sun looks looks like anymore- I was down there, they came outta the door. I saw inside. Things. Monsters. In cages. It's just a job. Problematic. Environmental concerns. I do get it. But we cant let them out. We cant. That's why I stay.

No, I'm fine. Dont mind me. I still get melancholy sometimes. I'm sure you know how it is. I think it is empty today, shall we? Will would you look at that! We planted these, you know, part of a workshop, make the place less institionalized, empower them a bit. Such a late bloom on those roses, honeysuckles too. Never seen it this good, rampant now as it is. I do come here sometimes. Lets go round the back, the plastic chairs might still hold up. Well. Grubby, huh? Still. Better than standing. Careful of the scat there. Can you see the paint? Used to be vines, butterflies. They weren't exactly the most feminine of women, but that's the way these things tend to go. The initial proposal was to move street homeless and victims of domestic violence here, to a supported living arrangement with job opportunities in the factories and shopping development. They got shipped here from the cities mostly. A lot skipped out and moved on, we thought it was that at first. Didnt blame them. Funding was meagre. They had no experience, qualifications, often in shock and needing to build from the ground up, you get me. But no. Some of the settled ones, a girl who was essentially my assistant and sort of an agony aunt to the others...she disappeared. She wouldn't have left. Didnt even like going to the shop. Things got bad, escalated. 26 missing in 6 months. 26. Never found, though later signs of violence in the rooms, blood on the back gate there, torn clothing in the alley. We got shut down. I retired shortly after, couldn't face it. 26. Could never sell the place after, went derelict. The homeless use it now. They dont mind me. 26. I still grieve for them. No justice anymore. That were about 20 years a go now, as you can tell. 26.

I suppose you have to consider whether she is in on it, with the timing an' all. The need. She's not, you ought to know that by now. No, I'm not her friend. I wouldn't presume so much. No, I wasn't there in the beginning- I dont look that old do I? I dont like talking about me. It's through these bushes, dont crackle the fucking twigs, let's sit here- hey, watch out for my coat. It's ok. I know I look rough. It's difficult. I've been told to talk to you. Dont really wanna. But look. See the vents? The coverings, all then aluminium boxes? That's a coolant system. Refrigeration. Freezers. Now some stuff needs temps like that to stay stable, but usually smaller devices in labs. That's production level. They dont make frozen food, ostensibly. I need a smoke. Fuck. Give me a moment, would you? I am talking. Mirium. She int one of them. Whatever else she may be, she's one of us. She's the one who put a stop to it, that...that bit at least. People dont remember me, I do look well different. Dont remember I was there, I lost my paperwork before I got on the bus, arrived as it was all happening, and it never got sorted. Lost in the machine. Only good thing that happened to me. I were 16, you know. Just. Didnt feel grown up, not until...I think that's where they are, what's left of them. Where I should be. A bloody block of ice. A product. It's fucked up. Went to bed. Woke up over there, some men lifting me out of a van. She came, everything went mental, fighting. was inside at one point. So was something else. She got me out, was hurt bad. Things were quiet after that. I'm watching 'em though. That's all I know. Sorry. Dont tell people who I am. Please.

Excuse me. Yes. You there. Have you seen my dog? Black, big- part Mastiff and part who knows what. Looks like a hellhound. Here's a picture. No? Bloody Nora. You know he's done this before, every now and then he just fucks off. Are you sure? You look like the type he likes, not that he's particularily friendly mind. I live there by the Holly bush, if you see come and knock for me. Wait a moment, look, he's not rabid, alright? Dont be calling any of those animal so-called charities, you hear? Do you know what they do with strays round here? Straight to the factory. It's disgusting. The way we tell it the wild cats've all got six owners each, and only nature a home for all of 'em. They like it like that, tease my dog unmercifully. It's hilarious. I swear to fuck, if someone's hurt him...I'll cut their face off. Wait, dont I recognise you? Had a meeting at the council, data request. I'm a copy-editor there. That's on slow works, S-T-W. Tell the musos they need to hurry with the planning bloc, dead-lines been moved forward- they have support of the district judge. Legislation supporting public meeting and private corporate meetings still holds. It's clear cut. They are, as usual, pointing to recent criminal violence as linked to their associated activist organisations. Perhaps enough for investigation, though its the same expected names. The balls rolling. Ta ta.

I'm going to work. why does day happen so early. That is a smudge of day there on the horizon I think. So tired. Why is coffee so hot. Who are you anyway? Seen you looking at things, commercial tagging or whatever. Swish and flick, sealed in tape. I was having such strange dreams just a little while a go. Do you...do you want a slice of pie? Cherry and vanilla cream. I made it. Here, take some for later then. Go on, good bit of pie that. Not a box in sight. Pneumatic locks. How can it be this early, even the birds are still asleep. Gosh. Look at that. Makes me feel impatient, like I gotta arrive early but its already too late. Aberrations sprout like lichen on the stone faces of power, plastic replicated and turn from mothers. They have one like her, Mirium, though turned and changed, engaging designs and spawned. A distillation process. Vicarious attachment and secure acquisition. The transmutation of the possible into actual, usual seeking suped up stuff, next level, accelerated desire and might; never mind the ravagement.
The rifts.
It's not quite game over, but close.

It's been happening a long time. Nothing has changed. Not in that regard anyway. Hold steady. Some things are clearer, you have greater clearance. It's a go on the deal, there is worth. The situation is a fucking mess, worse than we thought. A few mind tricks aren't going to cut it. There is a go on force. Let the lethal winds blow the storm over the situation. We're working on controlling effect spread. By the sounds of it the local population is saturated by subliminal affect. They're taking stance. Community stands a better chance. Ignorance can be taught. The rest? Fuck 'em. scum. She wants to siphon them, let her, they deserve it. And perhaps...if what is feared is true it'll weaken- whatever the fuck is in there's food source. Do they raven? We need more details, scent innocence. We're thinking of torching this one. These sort like purges, let them have their own medicine. we've discovered more bodies, more murders. There is responsibility. We need to know what we're dealing with in there, before we can select back up. Tinder box situation. Some can be done publicly, manipulated and amputated, others...our line of work. The usual secrecy. It's expected. Do what you can.

Boiler not working is it? Getting cold too. I'll have a look now, it's going to take awhile. Cuppa. Oh yes, two sugars and if you've got biscuits or a sandwich I'll have one of those too. going to my van now...I'm back. Lets look-see shall we. Good tea, honestly, I am trustworthy. If you wana crack on with work while I'm here that's fine by me. You dont mind the sound of clanging, do you? Ha. Yeah, I've got the problem isolated. Biscuits! Excellent. I'm going to need to do some wiring work too, that'll cost extra. Needs it, it does. So. Do you talk to every tom, dick and harry? Some might say that were nosy. People talk a lot of shit. Savvy people might say that makes them easier to control. Simple people know better. Are you simple? You live simply, that's for sure. Look at this, hey. Quite the set up. Very independent. You dont often talk to the same people again, do you? Meet no one you like, no friends? Not even working local. That would worry some of us. Question what your motives were. Heard you was in a fight or two as well. How about that. You seen how things are done. You only get one warning. Anymore of those biscuits? What. Oh. Did you, did you give me a biscuit. Boilers done. Rabbit bones. Mercy. Mercy...

So I'm sitting here, patiently and politely eating as their watching me, thinking if I jump up, kill them, run through the door my life will have a better chance at normalcy. I'm not allowed to do that. Shuffle forwards. I aint snuffed it yet. Seen it all before. Almost. I'd rather be dead. Lived too fucking long, I did. Family gave up on me, got shunned for my wrinkled reminder of where they come from, what they owe. Little cunts. Think what they know is new and not what I taught them. It's we that bought prosperity, never mind the book binders- that was always here. There used to be an illuminations department. Hey day that. Not like now. We displayed those secrets we stole, excavated, exaggerated and diminished. The world was ours and we shared her round. They've slipped too far from story to science, untruncated the thrill. I like the repeats of the photography with the new phones these days. Very good quality. Where is the nurse with my morphine? Tardy, as usual. If you want to speak with the boys, speak with them. That's their division. I'm very retired, can't you tell? Are you going to the fete on sunday? Very traditional. There's a raffle, tickets are always hot- wait till you see the prizes. It would help you settle in a bit, I think. Nurse! Where is she?

Red and green again, not my favourite contrast. Funny little guy aint he? Yeah. Nearly finished, I'll let this dry before I apply the gilt. Oh yes, cheers, mine are the winter spice teabags. Have one yourself if you want. I'll sort the paintbrushes out, lock up, and meet you upstairs. The students gone now, isn't she? Desk always looks the same...Let's go outside! You want me to roll you one!? Thanks. You remembered the honey. Bravo. Um, yeah. Was supposed to go to art school, but never bothered. Got an assistant job here, then started copying the manuscripts after my GCSE's. Why bother with the expense? Funny but I'm the only one they chase for scans and references. Sometimes we gift copies. That one's bound for London's library. They want the original but nope, never gonna happen. It's a constant process, for us, plus catch up. Getting there. Sorry the weeds a bit shit. Helps my eyes. Bren found her dog, usual tricks, nothing to worry about. She brings him for story time, kids love him, smallest ride him like a pony. So cute. He stays here with them when we action too. Him and his brothers and sisters, a couple of their pups. Still pack, if dispersed to many houses. Unlike the south, we kept our breed living strong. Tried to get a muzzle law on 'em, but luckily that failed. They've history being service dogs, even in the world wars. Protected. Actually used some of my work to prove continuance in the region. Old records. Paper and flesh are fragile, knowledge and words are not. We get that.

Well that is the problem, isn't it? People are used to it, people are too used to it. Fucks me off. Pass me that plastic clip. The blue one, and the grey pin. Yeah I know, looks like toddler toys- about the IQ they reckon I have, doing this, idiots. I'm coming up, gotta fence it for safety. Careful on the mud there, were raining this morning. Got a puddle in the pissing hole, hate that, everything as slippery as fuck and 10x harder. Take a break, you two! Yeah, actually chippy sounds good. Usual for me, yeah, see yeh in a min. This? Oh those fuckers re-routed something, or have got an illegal connection pipe- diversion pressure issues. Blocks up the grid and when the waters rise it springs up here and there. Gets cracks. Fucking factory. Now maybe that's why I have a different view; I work away mostly, and come back. Slip in and out of the societal pressure, so notice the shift more rather than have it all persidious and creep, creep over me. People shouldn't live in fear like this, making hunches, defensive postures, needing to treat speaking common sense like a siege, preparing for the worst. I been in the city, seen gang violence but there they can tube-hop to any perspective, here though the issue is isolated. Fenced in. From land to line. We all know where real contribution is, and where the cost is unjust.

Oh aren't you the silent, sexy type. could never miss you. Even in the dark like this. I like people that aren't afraid, that's why I'm out, street walking late at night. That and the bar is closed. Do you like my costume? Grrrr. Dont let my youth fool you. Are you going this way? It's darker, c'mon. It's been fun. All them leaves rustling in the woods so you're never sure if some ones following you. It does happen you know, a lot. I dare 'em to come and get me. We're not all quaint round here. My Mum was in that half-way house, they got her too when I was about 9. She'd already trained me. I'm capable. I saw 'em do it. We'd been gathering mushrooms. I hid, like she told me. She got overwhelmed, disarmed. Beaten. Dragged away. I hid. Fled. Got put in care, pretended I was never there. Like I didnt know. They came to the pub once, offered me a job. Didnt take it. Needless to say. You look capable too. Are you? See, down there by the fallen tree? That's where they tried to rape me when I was 14. I killed one of them. Stabbed him. Got away, and got away with it. Weird, huh. Thought they'd get me over that. Panicked, that's when I went to the library, not needing assistance in the end. Me Mum see, she was one of them, friends, and wanted answers. She got some, alrite. Blueprints, scientific files, audits. Other stuff. It's been in my keeping. Safe. Secret. If you're willing to fight, to bring the battle to victory...you can have copies.

Welcome to the Emporium, live well- for longer! Do you need guidance? Browsing, or here to book an appointment? We are fully licensed, utilise the latest tech and natural ingredients- our top range is truly divine and luxury is offered in every range. Perhaps a sample? You must! It's Pumpkin Spice! Seasonal special, affordable- check out the pampering gift set! Wow! No....I'm not deranged. What an odd question. You must've seen our features in the fashion magazines. We're beloved. The real deal. If you're going to be rude...oh, just doubtful is it? You like it though, dont you, dont your hands feel like silk, feel like new? Supple. Sensuous. That in itself is empowerment- to be the best you can be. We help people. Ah ha ha, of course the best is reserved for those with the capital. It's a complicated process, rare ingredients. Dont you think you can winkle those secrets out of me- I dont know! But they have my testimony- great results! What? Of course I love my job. Look at me, look at this place. Oh that. No, that's a collalary chain of the business, nothing to do with us. Our ingredients are vetted au naturale. Production? Now dont be like that, what production doesn't utilise synthetic materials. That's a manufacturing issue. Not ours, not our product. We're established, dear. From before all that. It's the classic desire we cater too- brilliantly.

That smoke. Look at it rolling. Thought it was a raincloud at first, would you believe it, hanging low. Emporiums burning down, robbery gone awry they say. At delivery time too, the vans burnt out. Few dead suspected. Little café next door caught fire too, now that is a shame. Nice family. I expect they'll get compensation. Radio is saying it's probably due to an electrical fault, with the flooding there's been issues. Seems conflicted, that coincidence, dont it? They borrow trouble for themselves, and trouble comes to find 'em. The reservoir lake is rising, you know. It'll get worse. Best buy some candles, I say. Keep the lanterns lit, we're almost in the veils now- things always change a bit. I'm glad summers gone, too many fires. Dont it stink though, all that char? You got some on yeh, there, look. Funny thing, that couple not coming back from their holiday. You know 'em. The lawyer and the investments manager. From the council. We were all expecting them to be kicking up a fuss now. Been reported as missing. Police had a look in their house. Looked as you'd expect actually, though the fridge freezer'd outed. Poor ole boys in blue are busy these days lookin' for their bosses and burying what they can. Lost faith, the lot of 'em. Still dont get that, the boys club days are over. Thick as shit, them. Still, best you go clean up.

Yeah, it's clear the community is turning on itself. What's so hard to understand. People get to earn, people got to eat. We didnt choose this set up, it's the way it is. Imposed. Functional. Yeah, whatever, so I'm a cog. Tick, tick. My family are looked after, they dont want for nothing. That's worth something. Not everyone has that, do they? If people just accepted it, then all this bad shit wouldn't happen, would it? Always fucking moaning about some thing, blaming every random psycho and assault on what is basic development and commerce. Get real. They prefer we all pay a killing tax again? As if it int high enough- they do need to lower it a bit. We all got problems. Our crime stats are at national average, it int no worse here than else where. That's just the way it is. For fucks sake, they should be more self aware, be sensible and safe and get the fuck on with it. What do they expect when they do what they do, say what they say, live like that? Asking for it. Toughen up, that's what I said to my kids, this is how things are, dont be weak, dont be a victim- get whats yours and get on with it. They've done alright. Younger just got a new car, well swish. Baby on the way for my second eldest. Almost a nan me and I know what I'm talking about. They'll learn, one way or another. Fuck 'em.

He was me da. I followed in his footsteps. Always knew I would, used to press the reflective strips to my eyes as a kid, smell the smoke and polish and wonder how long until I'd get big enough to fill the boots, the mask, till I was heavier than the tank. We've still got his boots. So. Fires how this started, and fires where it'll finish. Yeah. You know it. They were responsible for that, terror tactics. Getting their grip on the place. It was probably a legit business before that, as far as that goes. Not far, in my opinion. Towns hectic, distracted. It would be good to get this done by Samhain. You probably think the power boost will be useful, with Mirium, but remember...they get it too. And we want our sacred time to be sacred. Again. I can cause a delay, see we dont respond too soon, let the blaze take hold. That's it. Not to the point the houses are threatened. People live in them. I've handled stuff for the Agency before. I know the drill. I dont need to know whats inside, I'll mind my business but some of it needs to be found, needs to be official. We need justice, to remember their names. To give them blessing. What ever you clean up, you salvage, get it gone quick. The rest will be destroyed, the fragile stuff, papers, computers, the labs. They always are. Best not to tell me the when of it, I'll react when I get the call, respond when you need me. Us. Been a long time coming, this. Try not to get eaten.

We got betrayed. That's what happened. Same old story, and why's it like that? Same old people, organisations pretending to blush under a new name. The conceit. Meetings tomorrow. I've seen them smiling. There's something we dont know. Fears here, can you feel it? Miriums...not talking to anyone, not that she talks a lot...but this is different. Can you feel that pall? There's something we dont know. My instincts in over drive, a dead certainty, an inexorable sinking. Do you feel it? I dont trust her, really, arrived about the same time as them. I've seen her feeding from the student, and the student getting funded by the company. Is she, they really on our side, or the same as them but free range? They are not like us. Whose to say they ever were? I never wanted to get mixed up with this. No one trusts me anyway, official as I am, governmental as I am. So I'm officially saying we were looking for cures, ways to beat diseases and infections- to improve healthcare. That's where the stamps of approval come from, that Emporium stuff is only a by product really. Fast cash, fast sales. Keep the big wigs ego's inflated with the longevity stuff. Always a seller, that. Let me read that again. Betrayal. Fuck, this is evil. I'm only an analyst. I'll need to pass this on...see more. We thought it was animal products here, we knew they do stem cell stuff in Europe, Africa, India. Dont worry, they're international but upstarts really in the global market. There is demand though, same old. Well, fuck. I'm going to take photos of these alright? I'm not secure.

Did you hear what happened? Oh my. I'm parked over here, this way. Let me tell it, you guys. Meeting was in full swing good turn out for us, full force and not a few scuffles with the yobs on the way in- that's why she's got a bloody nose, but you're ok, aren't you, dear?- refreshments were dismal, of course, but we had our own with us, look, our logo on the cups and everything. Surprising how that works. Anyway, their turn out was poor- and all the richer for our position. Oh I dont care if it seems rude, crowing when there's a missing persons inquiry for two of them. Half numbers, reduced attack and more opportunity for the adjudicators, legal reps and media to hear the facts of our concerns, the rights of our citizens. And listen they did. Even had a journalist from a national press, good thing too as the event took a dramatic turn. Because the police came barging in, overseen by some out-of-towner and arrested...the company owners. Charges of human rights abuses, fraud, and negligence. Details unclear as to what that means, as generally as it can be applied. Meeting adjourned, with little to no chance of the proposal for further land and building permits to be granted. They can- is that my phone? Excuse me. Where is it? I'm sure it was...I gave my number to that nice young 'un, oh, here. Yes. Hello. Wh-hello? I cannot hear you over those dogs! Shout! What?! ..You're all locked in? Who's outside?! Everyone, get in the fucking car. shit just got real.

Keep running! I...I'm just about fit enough to keep up, fuck, adrenal boosts are useful, aren't they? Have you seen them yet? Oh, yeah, obviously I'm Agency, blah blah. We dont know what they are...no fucking idea. Darkness fell, the factories opened the back doors. Nothing happened at first. Then we heard this scream, this awful, awful scream. Mirium. Then they emerged. Shit. We thought it was going to plan. After the arrest vans and personal arrived to holy the place up- standard. We've got heavies due to arrive any moment, let them do the work, then run a simple snatch and fire up with you. We still need that to go ahead....then these fucking things came bursting out and leaping into the dark. Revenants, didnt someone call them that? Accurate. They're hunting, killing. Miriums out there somewhere. Castle's locked up tight and some locals are armed and got fires going. We think...it's not clear, but, perhaps they snatched one of her children and have bred the revenants from it. Him? They want more than emotion, more than blood. They're bestial, broken witted. Brutal. They're-argggghhhh, fuck, ow, shit, fucking shoot it! Shoot it! It's biting me! Little fucking infectious aberration. Why didnt you shoot sooner. Do it again! Blow it's fucking head off! Fuck. I need to report in. Swear to fuck, if I turn...kill me.

Stay the fuck down and speak no louder than your heartbeat. That's probably too loud. We have fighters, about 20 of us around here, if living yet. We've counted six of them. They're prowling, searching for a way in. Shhh. Shhh. Look. do you see? They sniff each other like that and, yeah, look, start fighting. Wait. Over again. Circling round. They dont speak, antagonistic and competitive with one another but are communicating somehow or at least adhere to some drive, the same command. We've killed one. they're younger than they look, baby soft over stringy muscles. Mature though. those jaws, those teeth...someone got their leg ripped off, it's them screaming you can hear. Please shut up. Sorry. But shut up. We went traditional, beheaded and staked. Still kept writhing. The other ones saw that but didnt try to stop us. Mostly we're just scaring off the serious attacks. We need range weapons. There's witches with their bows, but the arrows cant get enough velocity to break through the near solid ribcage or the skull. Like fucking armour. We're waiting on riffles. You really only have two spare guns? Lets get this one to her over there then, you met her? Good shot. Us three will do what we can, stay low now. Let's hunt? Yeah. Here, you can use it? Good. Look there's one, you to that tree, you to that one- watch line of fire with our own. Fuck, here's another! Open fire!

Are...are you sure you're ok? You look peaky. Sorry we're late to the party, stopped for burgers on the way. Fries too. Is that your blood? Ok, ok. How many did you get? 5? We ran one over on the way in, and took out two more on the way to the carpark. standing like sentries they were. Kept it quiet. they dont even realise we're here yet, got sight of them round the back in the loading bay clearing out evidence. They're really getting on with it. I hate doing paperwork so that's one less worry. Why dont you sit down for a minute? Get one of them mineral drink things and a smoke. Surely you've done this sorta stuff before? Or are you all lone wolf and shit. We always ride together and've burnt out nests before. Some of us think it'd be quicker- and safer for us- to take her out first. Know you dont agree with that. She really keep to the concordance? Dont want to find out otherwise by getting my throat ripped out and mind shattered to shards. None of us do. We're going on trust here. That and they're not female. Not a one of them. Ultimately that scares us more about the fate of those women, but makes the killing easier. We're concerned about numbers. Doesn't add up. See her? She's psychic, can only sense one something in there, and maybe three revenants. How many were born, how many out there? At least three you say....yet, where are the others? Shipped out? Manufactured?

Heya, I'm your buddy. Yo. What, dont look at me like that, your spidey senses tingling? Dont worry, I throw lightning and levitate a bit...nothing too fancy. I'm oathed. You? Oh come on, you got something I know you do. You are group combat trained right? If not stay behind me and shoot the fuckers if they get too close. We dont go in for the drama, specially in these ops. Stay calm, be quick and clean. You ready? On your feet, silent approach. Shops closed. You fucking heard her! Hands up! Step away from the vehicle. See! That's what happens when you're not prompt. You weren't prompt either! Back it up! Hands up- do not push that button...ooh, nice shot. Here, hold this one down while I zip him. You recognise him? Rapist. Never mind then, them ones there can do the talking. Boss? Ok, we're a go, barrel up, sights on. We dont know what's waiting in there-what. What's that sound. Get down! In coming! Wait, move, I cant see. It's her! Mirium! Do we shoot? Do we shoot? Hold fire! She's moving, fast, inside! Well, fuck, what do you reckon? We follow her in? Oi, we gonna need more back-up. Leave the trucks for now. Nope, aint listening. C'mon then, into the breech we go. Form up! Left, left, right, stairs, cover blinds, get the corner, go: hold. Hold...listen. Listen to that....have you ever heard anything so beautiful as that? Mum....mummy? Where are you? Where have you been, dont leave me alone....please.

We all go mad sometimes. It's ok. You did your best. We need to understand, that's all. The mission was a relative success. We got what we came for. Shush now, ignore the walls. The human courts are processing what can be processed- a murder spree attracts notice. The region will recover, they're experienced. They know how to be silenced, how to continue the good fights. We've got dreamers smoothing things over. However you are correct, they seem to be inured, inoculated by proximus to the experimentation and long term co-habitation with her. With Mirium. Stop that now, dont fuss with the wires, you need them. We will help you but you need to explain. We are concerned. We should be independent of the conflicts we investigate, it is essential. And yet, and yet. It's still not clear. You need to explain your support of her, tell us what happened at the end. Where did she go? Where is the source of the revenants, the aberrations? We've been through the files, they've shipped out some of them. We need you on this. We want you to be correct, to trust in her too, but she is what she is and now you are mad. Ignore the camera. Talk to me. Where is she? What happened? I'm like you, you know. You will talk.

___________________________________________________________________________________

These files are to be stored beneath: Ergot.
Access: restricted.
Notes: all statements are of women: population known and compliant with concordance and good standard. Human population mundane, and in control: usual criminal activity.
Action: resources: possible agency candidates- initiation of in depth integration with approach as deemed correct.
Action: Tier 2: amplification of locum ritualis.
Action: Tier 5: restricted to management: commence high play selection and begin cohesive identity forming.
Action: Tier 7: Restricted: Moribund: Apply Cloak.

Restriction Caveats: copy delivered to locum wardens.
:- peace gift to Mirium
:- Restriction may be lifted in even of global peace talks or else the death or disappearance of one third of the elders.

Access circumvention by individual allowed by consensus, election, promotion, as necessitated or by divine sign, sight, or spirit.

To be saved and encoded as a base file: with command access and navigation click-points, in tandem with graphed contents, activated. Access: operational.

Between the Veils

Mirium

No comments:

Post a Comment