ชิ้นChîn: Chapter 17. Remade

Charlie sits on the floor against the back of the couch, knees to his chest. He's pale, hair plastered to his sweaty face, eyes baggy and tired, and wears only a dirty tee and pajama shorts.

There's a soft knock, then Anwir steps into Charlie's apartment. A duffle bag hangs on his left shoulder. He looks over at Charlie with a soft smile as he shuts the door.

Anwir: "Hey, you doing alright, Charlie?"

Charlie, groggy: "I feel like shit."

Anwir sets his bag down by the coffee table, then steps over and kneels beside Charlie.

Anwir: "What's going on?"

Charlie hesitates for a long while before answering.

Charlie: "I'm trying to stop drinking. It's… not easy."

Anwir, empathetic: "I understand. Believe it or not, I struggled with the bottle myself at one point." He pauses in thought.

Anwir: "How about a cup of coffee?"

Charlie, groggy: "Sure."

Anwir steps over to Charlie's kitchenette and puts on a pot to brew.

Charlie: "I don't want to quit."

Anwir looks over his shoulder.

Anwir: "Why?"

Charlie: "Because… I'll just go back to always being afraid, always running."

Anwir grabs a cup and fills it with coffee.

Anwir: "What are you running from?"

Charlie: "Everything."

Anwir grabs the small bottle of powdered creamer, preparing the coffee as they speak.

Anwir: "Is everything worth running from?"

Charlie: "You don't understand…"

He steps back over to Charlie.

Anwir: "Come on, I'm sure the front of the couch is far more comfortable."

He reaches out a hand. Charlie takes it. Anwir's face tenses as he pulls him up.

Charlie sits on the couch, Anwir on the coffee table. He hands Charlie the mug.

Anwir: "What do I not understand, Charlie?"

Charlie stares at the cup and speaks slowly.

Charlie: "Something—really bad happened to me several years ago. I can't even remember it most of the time. But it's always there. Always chasing me. Always at the back of my mind. No matter where I am, or where I go." he lowers his head, "I just want it to stop."

Anwir listens. Charlie sips the coffee, then grimaces.

Charlie: "This is really bitter."

Anwir chuckles: "Well, it is coffee. Perhaps I made it too strong. I've never made coffee before."

Charlie continues to drink it.

Anwir stares at Charlie's hands wrapped around the cup.

Anwir: "Have I ever told you about my family?"

Charlie looks up and listens as he sips the bitter coffee.

Anwir: "I had a wife, a daughter, and two little boys. I love them dearly."

Anwir's typical content smile fades.

Charlie: "What happened?"

Anwir: "When we bought our house, we were deceived, lied to. On the outside, it was the most beautiful picture-perfect house any family would love to live in. But within the walls, the materials they used were horrible, cheap, and unsafe. The wiring was even done poorly, screws piercing the wires from when they quickly put it together to resell. It was—literally—a recipe for disaster."

Anwir goes silent, his gaze does not shift. Charlie finishes his coffee and sets it on the table by Anwir.

Charlie lies back against the couch, tired.

Anwir: "Even now—I can still feel the heat on my face."

As Anwir speaks, a few flickering embers cross his face, a warm light shines on him while everything else goes dark.

Anwir: "Every moment I still smell the smoke. I feel it burning my lungs. I hear the sirens, the crumbling of walls, the roaring of the fire, and the crackling as everything burns."

A few tears stream down his cold face.

Anwir: "Even now, I can still faintly hear Dolores screaming."

He lowers his gaze and swallows as his breath hitches.

Anwir: "Every time I close my eyes, I'm there again. It's never left me—I've never left."

Charlie slouched on the couch, drowsy.

Charlie: "Yeah… I'm still there…"

Anwir: "That kind of experience can make or break a religious man. For me… it did both."

Charlie slides further down the couch, his consciousness begins to fade.

Anwir leans forward, his head hangs low, and a few tears stream down his face.

Anwir, sorrowful: "I'm so tired of being broken and alone."

Charlie: "Me too…"

Anwir: "I miss them so much."

Charlie's words slur as his eyes close: "I miss…"

Anwir: "I would do anything to be with them again. I would make any deal with any devil—I would serve any god."

Charlie falls to his side, out cold.

Anwir's sorrowful gaze shifts to Charlie, and his frown deepens. He reaches out

and takes Charlie's left hand, holding it. When he lets go Charlie's hand is complete with the final finger piece.

He places note 13# on the coffee table, then stands.

Anwir: "Praise be unto our Lord, for He hath lifted our suffering."

His right hand holds the silver blade by his side.

Anwir: "Blessed are the wielders of the Flesh, for they are of His Will."

He sits on the edge of the couch. Charlie stirs only slightly as Anwir grabs him by the back of the head. He plunges the blade into Charlie's skull from under his jaw. Charlie's eyes open wide in shock, then turn to a solid, warm, glowing white.

He separates Charlie's head and lifts it to his face.

Anwir: "Glorious are the Vassals of Desire, for they sate our Lord's hunger."

He gently places the head into the duffle bag, inside sits a hat and coat. He separates Charlie into pieces and carefully bags his limbs, one by one.

Anwir: "And only when our Lord’s hunger is sated in His feast, shall He join again the body of God—"

Anwir, wearing the coat and hat, pulls the duffle bag over his shoulders and exits the apartment.

Anwir: "—and we shall join with our Lord, and all shall be made complete once more."

He gets into a black 2004 Toyota Camry, gently placing the duffle bag in the seat beside him.

Anwir: "Only then shall God return—Wholly, Glorious, Infinite."

-

Anwir walks around the flower shop building while staying in the darkness close to the wall. He nears a cellar by the greenhouse, unlocks it, and enters.

Inside, the center of the floor is peppered with pages of scripture. Nearby is a table covered in more papers, with all 12 arms laid out. The visor, gloves, boots, and apron sit on the floor by the feet of the table.

Anwir carefully unbags Charlie and attentively rejoins his body together on top of the paper. He stops with a pained grimace and puts a hand to his right shoulder.

Charlie now lies complete on the floor, hair loose, bare chest, still in his pajama pants.

Anwir stands and stares down at him with penitent affection.

Anwir: "Seven years ago, you told me that you felt empty and alone. I promised you I would fix that. And I will—for everyone."

Anwir kneels down and caresses Charlie's head.

Anwir whispers: "You will make a beautiful angel, Chîn."

He kisses Charlie's forehead, then pulls the blade out from his skull. The glowing halts, and his eyes close again, still unconscious.

While gripping the blade, Anwir steps over to the table of arms. He grabs one, Daniels, and pulls it to the front of him. He holds the blade to the fingers and pauses, grimacing. He grits his teeth, steadies himself, and begins to chop.

A few embers brush past his face as he works. The faint glow reflects off his features. Tears silently fall down his cheek, his face twisted with disgust and sorrow.

All 12 arms lay spread out and in pieces. He straightens his back, keeping his view high as he takes a few deep breaths. He unbuttons his shirt halfway and slips his left arm from the sleeve. The shirt hangs loosely on his right shoulder, a thick bandage wrapped around his stab wound. He grabs a rubber strip from his pocket and ties it high up on his left arm. He picks up the silver blade.

"Art thou ready, Blessed of Man?"

He lowers himself and lays his arm out across the table. He positions the blade right below the tourniquet. His breath quickens, and he starts to sweat. He takes one more deep breath, holds, and clenches—

Shik

He cries out, and his left shoulder falls. His body shakes, and he wheezes as he pants. Blood seeps from both points of separation and drips down his side and from the edge of the table.

He braces himself on the table with his right arm. He grits, and with a pained groan, he attempts to stand. Trembling and pouring sweat, he drops again. Blood soaks his shirt. He looks up with ragged breath and reaches out to drag his severed arm closer. Shaking violently, he grabs the blade and positions it over the fingers. The blade wobbles unsteadily in his hands.

Anwir: "Lord—help me."

The blade shimmers and shifts on its own. It lines up straight and stays steady. Anwir brings the blade down and slices through his own fingers.

Anwir now stands, still queasy, but somewhat steady. He moves the parts around and rearranges them so each arm contains one finger piece of the other.

With one hand, he slowly works to wrap them with parchment.

The blood on his side is now dried. He wraps the final arm with the last few pages of parchment. Twelve arms, six left and six right, line the table. A left thirteenth sits at the front. He lowers himself and joins the raw, exposed flesh of his remaining arm with the paper-covered one in front of him. He pulls a few more pages from the table, wrapping them around where his shoulder and the amalgamation arm meet. He lays the last piece, then lowers his head. His hand rests over the arm as he takes a few breaths, waiting. The point of connection begins to glow, and Anwir looks up. The glow engulfs the arm in its entirety. In pained awe, Anwir stands, hand holds the arm up. The glow fades with the parchment, leaving only a complete, banded arm.

Anwir stares at it in disbelief. With his other hand, he traces the bands with his finger.

Anwir, awe: "This… This is what it feels like to be an Abnormal?"

Anwir: "I can feel it—I can feel god."

-

Anwir begins placing the paper-covered arms around Charlie. He then takes position and kneels by Charlie's head, holding the blade. Anwir looks down at him affectionately and pushes a lock of hair from Charlie's unconscious face.

He gently grips Charlie's head—hesitates, then takes a deep breath, and stabs the blade into Charlie's skull.

Anwir steps back as the glow begins to emit from under Charlie's lids. It spreads, first to the bands on his body, then engulfs the twelve arms. The glow of the arms intensifies, then fades out. The arms vanish with the light. Leaving only the glow of Charlie's face and bands.

Charlie opens his solid white eyes. He sits up, then stands with stiff yet unnaturally smooth movement. Like a mindless puppet being pulled. Anwir watches him with anticipation. Charlie's mouth parts slightly, emitting the same glow. Pieces of his head separate and gently drift around the blade.

Twelve spectral arms fade in as they lift, hovering around Charlie.

Anwir, in awe: "Your—wonderful."

Charlie, showing no emotion or consciousness, turns to face him.

Anwir, sorrowful smile: "I'm ready, my Vassal."

His smile turns to desperate yearning, a few tears stream down his face.

Anwir: "Make us whole."

As Charlie's body stays put, the spectral hands reach out. They quickly grab different parts of Anwir's body, including his throat. He chokes from the grip and gives a short, gurgled scream as the hands rip him apart. A faint mist emits from the gore of his body and flows into the arms. The hands drop the carcass, and Charlie turns. He walks towards the cellar door, pace unchanging as the hands reach out and tear it off its hinges. They fade from view again as Charlie steps out of the cellar and into the rainy night.

-

Rain pours over the streets. Charlie walks, his glow dim and face together, but his eyes are still empty and white.

The cat Hyphae lies on a dumpster under the cover of a balcony. They look up at Charlie as he nears. He approaches the dumpster. The cat's fur stands up, and its back arches as they yowl and hiss. Charlie's glow brightens, and his body shifts as his attention turns to Hyphae. The spectral arms raise and reach out for them. Hyphae ducks them and sprints off the dumpster. They dart down the alley as Charlie follows them. Hyphae looks back and hisses. Their jaw unhinges, and a mass of mushroom-like growths forms around their head.

A hand reaches out, Hyphae goes to run, but is quickly grabbed by the leg. It pulls Hyphae off their feet and holds them up in front of Charlie. A few of the other hands grab the cat, cutting off its cry as the body is torn apart.

-

In the closed Diner, Hyphae sits alone, hyperventilating and shaking. The edges of their terrified face are peppered with mushrooms.

-

Nora stands in front of Conner's investigation board.

Nora: "Maybe—No. Damn it!"

She slams her hands down onto the table.

Nora: "I can't do this, Conner."

Her eyes tear up. She wipes them away and collects herself.

Nora: "No. We can't give up."

She pulls out her phone and looks down at her texts in the 'Hyphae' group.

-Hyphae (all)-

Yesterday

[Nora] Search every spot again. We have to find something to work on.

[#8] We are on it.

[Nora] Bring any notes to the diner.

42 minutes ago

[Nora] Do you have anything?

10 minutes ago

[Nora] Hyphae?

Now

[Nora] Are you alright??

-

Nora steps out of her car, parked in front of the diner. It's late night, the rain has stopped, but the streets are still drenched. She enters the diner and looks over to Hyphae's seat, seeing it empty.

Nora, worried: "Hyphae?"

She glances around, then looks back at the table and peers at the spread-out newspaper. She moves to read the writing on it. Written with marker in sharp, panicked strokes:

"AUL"

Her eyes widen, and she rushes out of the diner. She pulls out her phone and calls Charlie. She gets into her car and drives off. The phone goes to voicemail.

Nora, panic: "Damn it!"

She pulls down the phone from her ear and calls Basit.

Basit: [What?]

Nora: "Basit! Hyphae fled, there's an Aul! It must be the killer! They must have finished—whatever they were doing—Conner said it was a ritual."

Basit stands, holding the phone with speechless horror.

Nora: "Basit?!"

Basit: [G-go find Charlie! Make sure he's safe!]

Nora: "I am—Ah?!"

Her car bounces as it runs over something in the street. She looks up, gasps, and slams on the brakes. The car stops just behind Charlie, who stands in the middle of the road. Nora rushes out of the car and up to Charlie. Behind her car is a torn body, bloody tire streaks leading from it.

Nora: "Charlie! We have to—"

Charlie turns to her, the glow brightens, and the arms rise.

Nora clutches her phone to her chest and steps back in horror.

Nora: "Charlie?!"

One of the hands grabs her arm. She cries out—

Nora: "Charlie, stop!"

She tries to pull her arm away, but the hands grab her. She cries out as they pull, the faint mist emitting from her arm. She turns a spectral white and her body warps, slipping out of the hand's grip. She reforms and dashes away as they reach for her again. Her arm is grayed, the wrist slightly gnarled.

Charlie walks in her direction. His pace is quicker and focused.

-

Nora runs down the street by a large concrete building. She glances back, then turns and pushes open a metal door, leading into the parking deck's flight of stairs. She rushes up a few stories before exiting. She stops and hunches over, wheezing. She catches her breath and looks down at her forearm. A few tears stream down her face, and she pulls up her phone. Her back turned to the deck's open balcony.

She puts the phone to her ear, and it rings a few times. A few spectral hands grab the balcony's edge and lift Charlie onto the parking deck level.

Nora turns and shouts in fear, dropping the phone as she backs away. One of the arms lands down onto the phone, shattering it, followed by Charlie's bare feet.

Nora tries to keep her distance.

Nora: "What have they done to you?!"

The arms reach for Nora, and she jumps away. She continuously walks backward as he walks forward.

Nora, desperate: "Charlie, snap out of it!"

A hand quickly grabs Nora's leg and pulls it out from under her, dragging her to him. She screams, a few more hands grabbing onto her—suddenly, Charlie is slammed into the stone wall by an appendage of flesh and bone. The impact dents the wall with large cracks. Visible within the dust cloud are a few falling bits of concrete mixed with Charlie's scattered pieces.

Basit leaps down onto the floor from the balcony's railing. Her appendage returns to her as she rushes to Nora's side. She helps Nora to her feet.

Basit, relief: "Don't ever change your perfume."

Nora looks over to Charlie's scattered bits.

Nora: "Is he—eek!"

The pieces glow again and move on their own, collecting and reforming as the twelve hands push larger chunks of debris off his body. Charlie stands from the rubble. Concrete dust falls from his shoulders, undamaged and whole again. Basit and Nora watch with fearful disbelief.

Nora takes a tentative step forward.

Nora: "Charlie—"

Basit grabs Nora and jerks her back as all of the hands suddenly reach out to grab her.

Both sprint away.

Basit: "It's an Aul! Don't let it touch you!"

They sprint down the path of the parking deck.

Nora: "If you know what to do, I'm all ears!"

Basit: "How would I know?!"

Nora: "Haven't you dealt with an Aul before?!"

Basit: "No! I almost died to one! I didn't even—!"

The hands burst through the concrete above them. The hands grab Nora as Charlie drops to their level.

Basit: "Nora!"

Basit enlarges into a large four-legged beast of muscle and teeth. The hands lose their grip as Basit thrusts her weight against Charlie. Both of them bust through the stone of the deck and fall to the ground below. Nora rushes to the edge and watches them land in a construction area below.

Charlie stands, and Basit slams against him again, throwing him back against a metal construction beam, denting it. Basit distances from him, Nora runs up to them from the side of the building, winded.

Charlie stands again.

Basit grabs up Nora and runs away as the hands reach for them. She sprints down the lower hill by the waterfront.

Basit: "Any idea how to kill an immortal?"

Nora: "No!"

She struggles from Basit's grip and drops to the ground.

Nora stares up, stern: "We can't kill him!"

Basit: "It's an Aul!"

Nora, through tears: "He's Charlie!"

Basit: "Not anymore—"

Basit sees Charlie approach and stands in front of Nora. He reaches out—she roars and charges at him, bashing him down and pinning him. The hands grab her and pull her off, their grip causing her to cry out.

Nora stands watching, frozen in horror.

Basit, winded but still defensive, slowly walks backwards as Charlie continues to walk forward. Nora stares at Charlie, his face, and the knife within it. She gives a determined huff and sprints forward, past Basit and directly up to Charlie.

Basit: "Nora!"

A couple of hands grab Nora as she reaches Charlie. She grips the blade and snatches downward. The blade dislodges from his face, and both the glow and the arms fade. Nora stumbles back, huffing and awkwardly holding the blade. Charlie drops to his knees. Basit reforms to a humanoid and rushes up to Nora's side.

Basit: "You smart bitch—"

Charlie's head falls into his hands, and he begins to sob.

Nora tentatively steps towards him. Basit watches her closely, weary and prepared.

Nora: "Charlie?"

Charlie lowers his hands from his face, tears streaming. His hoarse voice cracks as he speaks through sobs.

Charlie: "Make it stop… Please… I don't want to hurt anyone…"

Nora steps closer, shifting the blade to one hand, and the other reaches for Charlie's shoulder.

Nora: "It's okay, Charlie. It's over."

Charlie: "No—it's not. I can still feel it…"

Nora kneels: "Feel what?"

Charlie's gaze turns to the blade. He suddenly reaches out and grabs it, trying to snatch it from Nora. They stand as he tugs upward. She grips it with both hands. Charlie desperately tries to pull it away from her.

Nora: "Charlie! No!"

Basit rushes up and grabs Charlie's arms, pulling them away. The left one loses grip, and she pins it to his side, holding it with her arm against him as she grabs his other hand.

Basit: "Stop!"

Nora: "Charlie, please! We can help you, just please stop—"

Charlie grits and stares at the blade with determination. He suddenly shifts his grip, cries out, and snatches downwards towards himself. Basit shifts, Nora pulls, and the blade lands in his left arm. A glow emits from the entry point and forms cracks that spread down his arm. The light consumes them.

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