Chapter 6
The contrast between the medicinal white hallways, and the colorfully decorated office had to of been one of the biggest red flags he’d seen.
Khonsu had never shied away from giving wealthy business tycoons the same due process as everyone else, and as a result, he’d been inside various corporate halls more times than he could count. Something about wealth bred immoral behavior, and such behavior deserved justice. This was the mindset Marc Spector had carried for years, and only recently had he begun to break apart this mentality. It wasn’t his place to declare who should live, and who should die. Neither was it Khonsu’s. That being said, out of all the business men he’d had the displeasure of meeting over the years, none had had the intricate waiting room he found himself in now.
Every wall was decorated from floor to ceiling in different flags and tarps, most of which he didn’t even bother trying to decipher. The designs on them were simply too complex, and the commotion from having so many things going on at once made keeping his eye in one place near impossible. There were banners, ropes, newspaper clippings; not even the floor was safe from the vomit of contradicting patterns. It all stunk of some overly pompous millionaire with money to flaunt, though that could have been the weird herbal incense burning in the corner.
“Excuse me?”
Marc’s head snapped back over to the woman at the desk. “Sorry, what was a that?”
“I asked are you here for an appointment? That’s what you called about, isn’t it, Mr. Lockley?” The woman repeated, this time a little more flatly. The fake smile brought hyper attention to where her hands were, which at the moment, happened to be right on her keyboard. She didn’t seem to have a weapon, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one hidden nearby. He kept his eyes locked on the spot even as he approached the desk. “Yeah, I am. When’s the earliest you can get me?”
She gave a small huff, before promptly beginning to type once more. “Well, the issue is, we’ve been having quiet a lot of problems with you recently. It truly was a surprise to receive your call, though as considerate as it is that you bothered coming in today, I don’t think we can afford letting you meet Bilith anytime within the foreseeable future.”
Bilith. He searched every corner of his mind, but everything came back empty. All of his brain’s focus seemed to be split between a million different things, leaving his body left to do the useless job of standing there like a hopeless dog. He didn’t need to be in on the situation to know that he was not playing the part well of whoever she thought he was. With a couple coughs he brought back his shoulders, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “Well, let’s say there’s a hypothetical world where I did get an appointment to meet with Bilith, what would you say would happen then?”
“Bilith only communicates with those who seek his aid.” She stated, finally dropping the smile from her face. “A meeting would imply that you want his help, but from the four funerals we’ve had over the past week alone, that doesn’t seem to be your motive, is it? Mr. Lockley?”
Four funerals. Every word after that seemed to fade into the complex scenery around them. That was four people’s lives on his hands. The fact he didn’t even know their names, or what they did, pained more than any long-winded description could of. At least then, he would have had something to grasp onto. Standing there though, with not even a remotely reflective item in sight, he was completely alone. It was as if the ground was moving beneath his feet. His heart rate tripled in speed, and the salty taste of sweat touched his lips.
“Mr. Lockley…Lockley…Spector?”
Marc finally looked up, and he could tell then and there that he’d fucked up. “So, your name is Marc Spector then?” She hummed. “That’s what it says on your birth records. Not uncommon for men of your stature to pick up an alias.”
The door opened behind him, and Marc became hyper aware of the eyes staring at him from behind. He knew without having to turn around that a gun was already being aimed at his head. The lack of Khonsu’s healing ability came crashing in at full force. There was no way he’d be allowed out of this room, not after whatever he’d done to kill those people. Those possibly innocent people, who might have the right to shoot him after all he’d caused. His hand subtly began to slip down his leg and towards his holster, and mentally he prayed she didn’t notice. “I’m not Jake Lockley.”
“So, we’ve gathered.”
“No, I mean, I’m not him.”
The woman raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, he could have sworn he felt the men behind him still. The room came to a momentary silence, if only to be broken by a mildly annoyed, albeit intrigued grunt. “And how’s that? Are you going to try and convince me that you have a twin?”
“No, I have DID.” He stated through gritted teeth. “Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s complicated, and I’m sure you aren’t looking for doctor terms, but it basically means I struggle with having multiple people inside my head. I’ll go to bed one night, and then wake up days later with no idea what my other alters have been doing. Usually what I miss out on is trivial, but-” He looked around the room, both at the decorations, and the men with guns. “Apparently this isn’t the case.”
The woman’s face was unreadable. It was difficult to tell if the honest explanation would make the whole situation better or worse, but it at the very least kept a bullet out of his skull. He looked her straight in the eyes. “I have no fucking idea why I’m here, but if that doesn’t show I need some help, I don’t know what will.”
The lady sat in complete silence. Marc watched his words process and integrate with everything else she’d known about him up to this point, and though the pause likely only lasted a few seconds, in that moment everything seemed to come to a dead stop. The barrel of the gun breathed on the back of his neck, daring him to turn around and try to stop it.
“Hmm…okay. Yes, I think Bilith would be interested in arranging a meeting. Nurses, would you mind escorting Mr. Spector to where he’ll be sleeping tonight?”
A giant pressure was released from inside him, and for the first time since waking up Marc could actually breath fully. Nothing she had said truly mattered, aside from the assurance that he’d be able to continue living for at least the time being. That’d give him plenty of time to catch up on everything his fucked up alters had gotten himself into.
The relief was short lived, when Marc was once again shoved through the various corridors of the bleach white office complex. The swift switch in scenery was a nice sort of pallet cleanser after everything that had just happened, though it did little to draw his attention away from the two gentlemen leading him through the building. There was a possibility at any moment one of them could change their mind, and decide to do what the lady from before had failed to instruct. This, thankfully, never happened.
After a couple minutes of walking, Marc was finally directed towards a small closet at the end of the hall. The space had to be no larger than a queen size bed, not including the once again unnecessary levels of intricate decorations for such a tiny area. The floor was completely covered in a singular brown matt, which seemed littered with small stains he found himself too afraid to look at closely. One of the men nudged him inside. “There are clothes on the ground for you to change into. Someone will be by to drop off food, and take away what you’re wearing currently. Expect to be up at 6 am for your drive over.”
“Drive over? Drive to-” The door was slammed before he could finish his sentence. He should have expected as much. With a reluctant sigh he turned his eyes back to the small space he had to work with.
Despite not having anything else on the floor besides the clothes and the pad, the sheer number of posters and banners made actually locating the basic brown scrubs a mild inconvenience. The only lighting to speak of came in the form of a dim yellow bulb attached to the wall, as well as a faint red dot that he assumed came from a security camera. It was as if the room was designed to be as frustrating as humanly possible.
After a minute or so of taking in the room, Marc allowed himself to finally slide down on the pad. Escaping was going to be a bit trickier than he’d initially thought. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall.
“Marc? Marc, can you hear me?”
Marc jolted. “Steven? You’re here?”
“Oh Marc! Oh, thank God we’re okay, look up.”
It took a moment to make out what he was supposed to be looking for, but after a little bit of hunting his eyes eventually landed what seemed to be a mobile. The craftsmanship was shoddy at best, but the useless shards of glass hanging from it gave a vague reflection to work with. That was all he apparently needed to hear the brit’s faint, but distinct voice in his ear. “About time buddy, I was just about to shoot the door down if I didn’t get an explanation soon.”
“Well, we’re apparently inside an abandoned building complex.” The other hummed, “According to Jake, it’d been left to rot for a couple years, before eventually a cultist by the name of Greg Barkson decided to set up shop here. He changed his name to Bilith shortly after, and now he has his underlings run the place as a sort of waiting room before allowing them into the cult. A testing ground to see if they’re ready to join, of sorts.”
“Fuck, great.” He seethed. Not even two months had passed, and already he was once again dragged back into a world of crime he never wanted to be a part of in the first place. It reeked of Khonsu’s doing. “And where is this Jake anyway, huh? Why doesn’t he come down here and explain all this backward shit to me himself? Apparently, his opinions are important enough to risk our whole life over.”
Steven stumbled over a few unintelligible sentences, before finally settling on: “He, uh, isn’t interested in talking right now.”
“Huh? And why the fuck not? He’ll talk to you, but not me? Is he forgetting I share the body too?”
“Well, its more complicated than that. I don’t even fully understand his reasoning. Let’s not focus on that now though, at the moment we need to get out of here. Jake’s plan had consisted of breaking into a room of sorts, and stealing the location of where the cult’s camp is. I don’t know exactly where the room is, but-”
“No, no, no. I’m not listening to the directions of a maniac who’s killed four, if not more, people within just the last week. Second hand directions, at that. Unless you have some crazy shit, you haven’t told me yet to change my mind, I’m getting out of this joint.” Marc stood back up, reaching for his gun. It was remarkable they hadn’t confiscated it yet, especially if his alter had a history of violence. He shrugged it off though and began to cock it.
“You-you can’t just go charging out there!” Steven stuttered. “This guy is dangerous! We don’t have the suit; we could get killed if we don’t do everything right! I want to go home just as bad as you do, but there’s no point in doing so if its in a bloody body bag.”
“And what do you suggest, hm? That instead of breaking free like we should, we instead steal a map or something? To bring down a crazy cultist guy? Steven, this is crazy talk. Stuff like this happens, other religions exist, we aren’t the people who decide what’s right and what isn’t. You’re supposed to be the one on my side here. Isn’t that what we wanted? To be free of the burden of carrying all this shit on our shoulders?”
Marc waited for an argument in response, but after several seconds nothing seemed to come. He grumbled, turning his attention back to the gun. He pointed it at the lock, and mentally prepared himself for any possible ricochet.
~★✡★~
Jake was in the middle of the main entrance when he woke up.
Marc had managed to make it quiet far, surprising given the pussy techniques he’d been using. It was clean, he’d give him that much, but too time consuming. The ex-mercenary managed to knock out half the staff in twice the time it would have taken to simply blow a hole in their brains. The difference in strategy would have been easy to overlook, if it clearly hadn’t failed in the end. Just the presence of him meant something was wrong, and the big guns needed to be pulled out.
The big guns, in this case, was needed to take care of several guards blocking parking lot. There were over five guns pointed at him, and the trigger would have been silly if it weren’t for the lack of a suit currently in his other alter’s possessions. He’d been around to see so much worse, but he wouldn’t complain. A slight smile slipped over his lips as the cape slunk around his body.
“The assistant has reported Marc’s outbreak to Gregory Barkson.” His god announced in the mists of the bloodshed. More guards were coming, how fun. “I know his location. It’s good the escape was made when it happened, the body was minutes away from being drugged. That being said, you told me you had them under control. I almost had to summon the suit in that office Jake.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Jake called over his shoulder. The people shooting seemed beyond confused, though he could hardly bring it in himself to do more than shrug it off. They were going to die with or without his contribution today, and if he was going to pick the later, there was no point in trying to look sane. He grabbed for one of the largest fella’s head, and smashed it into the glass door. “He’s gettin’ nosey, but the mission’s almost over. “I’ll sort him out on our way over, finish the job, and then they can return back to their little bubble until the next mission. Bingo boingo.”
“That’s implying that you actually communicate with the man. For as capable as you are, my dark raven, this human game you play is pathetic.”
Jake grimaced. Critiques didn’t come from the god often, at least when it came to situations outside his normal world of work. He didn’t often exist outside of that though, so he supposed now that he’d been receiving more time in the light, the new petty insults should have been expected. He took out the last guy with a single stab to the gut, before turning his attention back to the god. “Calm your tits bird brains, I’ll talk to him. I just didn’t see the point in doing so today, I knew he’d hand over control to me eventually.”
Khonsu shook his head. “I do not know who you wish to fool, Jake Lockley, but I do not care. Your human toils mean nothing to me as long as Barkson is drowned in a pool of his own blood.”
Jake snickered, “Me too Khon, me too.”