Chapter 48: The Heart of the Influence

The dark fell over Violet so suddenly that it shocked the breath from her lungs. In an instant she was placeless again, the world atomized. A vivid red sheen starred the lightless expanse of her vision, but even that soon faded and but for the noises and anguished cries of the false animals, and but for the rapid, nearly painful thrum of her own heart, Violet couldn’t hear a thing. Blood roared in her ears.

The lantern was a dark, ticking weight in her hand and somehow she knew that it would not be turning on again. The filament had burned through, or the bulb had shattered. There were movements in the blackness, dampened by the moist pinnings of respondent flesh, location impossible to discern.

Fear rose in a huge, bitter tide.

An urge came, mercenary and wild, that she simply turn and run back up the stairs. She could maybe get past the false animals, ruined as they were. Then she would be out into the daylight once again, and—

Violet blinked hard. How bright would the daylight really be if she was the only one left to enjoy it?

Leaking in from underneath the ominous intent of the animals, Violet could still hear the urgent crackling of her machine, and knew there had to be the beast operating it. And the cat too. Her friends.

Violet held her eyes open, though there was nothing to see, and took a calming breath. It shivered in her lungs like a burden of ice. The cat had taken her night walking not long before, in preparation for inevitabilities just like this one.

What had its advice been? Her mind whirred helplessly in place for what felt like entire years before catching.

The darkness was nothing to be afraid of, it was simply an absence of light. And she knew this, but it wasn’t making things any easier. She’d been told to avoid narrow corridors, and Violet was unable to suppress a high yip of frightened laughter at that one. Of course, the cat had very deliberately steered her into a pitch black alleyway immediately afterwards, so it had known that things would sometimes go badly no matter what.

And that was what this situation was: a wrongness. But she was still alive, and the beast was down in the very bottom of the refinery, hopefully protecting the cat. She had been told to keep her nerves and roll with the fear, and Violet thought that she was doing that, because panic had not fully enveloped her. Rather, it buzzed on the borders of her mind, high and immense, like a coming electrical storm.

She’d fought a demon then, but there were no demons down here. They were too scared of the influence and its unspeakable false unity.

But….

She’d fought a demon, but that hadn’t been the important part of the encounter. The demon had been hidden in the black of a full night and yet she’d still found it, because her eyes were not her only sense, and what she held, her ability to look beyond herself, was not just for talking or fighting. She could look out upon the world, into a place where light and dark did not matter.

Even now she could feel the presence of the walls, and floor, living and yet not, held in interminable thrall to a spasming center, the influence still trying to recover itself, to make sense of what had just happened. The floor sang beneath her feet and when Violet took another step forward she felt it ripple and reverberate along a contained space. The influence knew where she was, but so did she. And she could feel the walls, and the ceiling, and where everything dipped and curved and fell. There were false animals in the hall too, and she could not put together their shapes, but the presence that burned within them was so dominant that awakening could not be presented as an option. She thought about the sparrow, locked into itself by spider venom, and felt that had it been given some unnatural animation then its presence would feel similar.

They could not walk but for staggery bursts of nearly liquid motion, and Violet pressed the first one to the side with the blunt end of her fire poker. It collapsed against the wall and wheezed, then the second fell onto its front, legs too weak to continue, and when Violet passed it she thought that she could feel the wet, snuffling press of its muzzle trying to bite her, to get what remained of its jaws around her ankle. Somehow this was not frightening, she continued on and the false animal sighed weakly before turning off, its use exhausted. There was a curious sadness listening to something die, for the influence had shifted so roughly away that the system could no longer be continued.

A hum sang at the edge of the air now, something close to frustration, like when her mother was upset at some distant thing but did not wish to admit it. Feeling something so nearly human, so people adjacent, made Violet feel cold and strange. But familiar aspects of warped reality pouring forth from very bad or very strange things was supposed to be normal now. And she was still heading deeper.

More stairs, and more animals, but they could not correctly ambulate, and Violet walked through them like a ghost, the world but a tracing now. She felt almost as though she were walking through one of Maud’s drawings, but a nightmare one, and colors had come to her perception of it all, sparks of red and blue splashing upon the brightest bits, and beyond everything a colorlessness that was influence, like what she imagined lay behind the night sky if the skin of reality were ever to be undone.

It was stronger now, yet in its dominance lay a curious helplessness too, for the function of ordinary things was impaired this deep into the refinery. The false animals could not rise to stop her, for they were fused to walls or half disintegrated already, their musculature stretched across great distances. She nearly set her foot into a mouth that had been opened into the floor, but though it attempted to grip, there were no teeth and Violet pulled herself free with a faint little cry. And in a moment she had forgotten that horrible instant, for her mind felt full with imagery and sensation, there was little room for retention and she felt curiously alright with that.

And then she was stepping forth into the grand confines of an immense room, the ceiling high and vastness stretching around her but for lumpen aberrations whose forms she could not ascertain, the thoughts given to describing them were riven to splinters and winked out like dying stars upon the edge of a disintegrating cosmos. She thought that there was a light to the room, a genuine one, and knew that her eyes were picking up on something, but it felt weird to perceive when she was so deep underground. Then she realized that she was standing amidst rows of machines and smokestacks, and knew somehow that sunlight was carrying down from unimaginable depths, stray photons leaking even into the heart of this place. There weren’t enough for illumination, but she could feel them, and it made the room seem newly bizarre.

Her machine crackled and whirred from somewhere ahead, and Violet made a strange half noise that was somewhere close to human speech. Then she could hear the rustle of fabric and she knew that the beast was close. Yet that thought could not fully form, for the influence was very strong here and there were fumes of spilt fuel as well, patches of nothingness across the span of her perception where puddles of acrid waste had eaten the flesh away. She sloshed through the medley, mindless of how it stung her skin, all but possessed with the simple joy of knowing that she was close to her friends again.

A thought came, how badly she wanted to see them. Her lantern was gone, but she still had her spark lighter and the thought of seeing white bone and black fur even for a moment, lit by a sun bright bouquet of yellowy sparks, seemed a tonic for the soul.

She’d laid her fingertips upon the steel handle when a cold realization settled and she succumbed to a full body shiver. The sparks would not simply fizzle into the air, but fall down around her…to where she was standing ankle deep in all the refinery’s leavings.

Then the beast was upon her and Violet felt herself wrapped fully in trembling fabric, the blood splashed hardness of her friends’s skull bumping roughly against her shoulder. She could hear the edges of words, the connection still sort of existed, but she could not put together the full intention of what it said.

She could guess though, and hugged the beast back, as tightly as she could.

“Cat?” She asked, and heard a tiny murmur come in response. Violet went with the beast as it guided her back. They were close to the rising spire of a rust flaked chimney and around them rose more shapes. Here Violet could detect a definite but very faint light and supposed that somewhere far away the sky was still blue and the sun shone…even if those facts seemed nearly alien to her now.

And though she was treading upon dead ground, her presence within the influence’s machinery lost even to her, it knew that she was in the room and did not like that. There was a certain gathering order to the nearest parts of the refinery and Violet figured that the influence was still attempting to put itself back together. But when she reached out yet again, and this was easy, for the center lay all around her, she barely needed to touch it for the influence to cringe away. There was something different about its reaction now, a rising fragmentation that she did not understand. It had given up on trying to reach into her, for her actions were so disturbingly similar, and it could not comprehend such sameness within different beings.

And still its presence rose and hissed and writhed, like the water of an ocean being pulled away from shore by immense tectonic motions, ready to rush back in a hard edged wall, all at once.

Then the beast bent to gather something and Violet felt soft fur as the cat was passed into her arms. She went to embrace her companion but the cat cried out, its noise high and pitiable. Violet jolted, heart frozen with a gathering dread, and immediately made her hold as gentle as possible.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and the words felt small and insignificant. “Cat? Are you okay?”

The cat stirred faintly and Violet thought that she could see the silver of its eyes.

“I’m okay,” said the cat, but its voice was hollow and the attempt at reassurance so transparent that Violet could only tremble. “You really shouldn’t have come down here.”

Violet resisted an urge to look around. Now that she was close to even a feeble attempt at light, the room had gained some more depth, and she could still feel the overall layout, even if the influence had drawn itself distant. The walls did not hold a traditional shape and the place the beast had fetched the cat from could not be directly perceived. Were she to look at it too closely, Violet suddenly knew that her mind would simply blink out, all vision and thought and impulse falling to a thin white line, then a dot, then nothing at all.

There was a liquid warmth to one of the cat’s front legs and Violet let out a small, shivery breath.

“I needed to get you.” She said.

The cat shifted in her arms and took a small breath.

“I felt it when you hurt the…the monster.” It felt strange to listen to the cat use her old descriptor. And it had been right. ‘Monster’ didn’t really fit the influence at all. Not when it was so much worse.

She nodded, near desperately, and took a small shuffling step back against the chimney, for she could feel a certain approach becoming galvanized, more false animals filtering further downward. The air felt sour and there was an unpleasant pulse to the walls that she could feel, that grew ever stronger all the time. It felt nearly as though the whole unimaginable bulk of the refinery were about to be brought down on top of them.

“Yeah.” Violet agreed, and knew that she was baring her teeth now, not out of malice but rather some deeply buried ancient instinct. It made her feel nearly feral, some wild desire to hurt and maim and survive crackling just below the skin. She’d felt this when she’d been attacked by the dog, but no guilt or frightened realization accompanied it now. “I’ll hurt it worse. We need to get out of here.”

The beast trembled from where it hung in midair, just ahead of her, and Violet knew that there were animals entering the room, drawn from further up. They were not the contorted wrecks that she had passed so easily on her way down, for they had been halfway through being stretched and molded to all surfaces of the world, to ensure that the influence was all that truly existed.

As Violet listened she heard sullen splashes and realized sickly that some of the animals were laying in the fuel, attempting to patch the holes that existed even here, at the bottom of all things. Others limped forward, and Violet could smell blood and waste and knew that there was a fragile order shivering over all things.

“I’ll hurt it.” She repeated, then gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. Her head hurt so badly, but she could not let that stop her, and she grabbed for the influence again. She felt it try to rise up, to push back, and there was a sort of nightmare shriek writhing in its very center, for it knew that this was coming and could not stop that and cold not understand, could not understand, could not—

The influence broke not with a sound, but rather a final sensation of frightened confusion, then the pressure turned sharp and even in the center there was a jagged fissure. She had not killed it, not even close, but a facade had been torn aside and Violet knew now that the very sort of kill or be killed instinctive attitude that animated her had come to the influence as well.

The false animals shrieked and wailed, but held firm in their thrall, not a one breaking free to writhe or panic upon the fuel soaked ground. The influence—that which had been the influence—shivered all around her, and Violet felt a slow, icy surge of dread begin to rise up through her chest. She had hurt it, but her blows were no longer having an effect. The fear and confusion had vanished, and she did not recognize the feeling that replaced it.

There were entire legions of false animals now, and through them pulsed the new intent of the influence. It did not want to have her anymore. It wanted to take her in its jaws and rip her into wet red rags.

Violet felt this, and knew with a sudden certainty that she was about to die. She took a small step backward, rucksack brushing flakes of rust from the stack of the chimney, and then let out a small breath. She had faced death other times, of course, but those had either been sudden, or she had been presented with definite avenues of escape.

This was different. Now she could not see a way forward, no path towards salvation rose readily to mind. She was backed into a corner, in the heart of the influence’s lair, facing an enemy that would never, ever stop hunting her.

“You…you should get out of here.” She said faintly, glancing from the beast to the cat.

“Don’t do this again,” the cat sighed. “You know we’re not leaving.”

Violet could not tell for sure, but the beast seemed to nod, a vigorous fervor animating its motion.

“You’ll die. Or worse.” She said, but though a certain tension rolled through the cat, her companion only scoffed. It seemed to have regained some of its energy.

“No worse than you will,” said the cat. “Besides, you scared this thing. So far as I’m concerned, we’ve already won.”

The cat was being flippant, Violet knew, and she nearly smiled, but the motion faltered, for she knew that everything she’d done would have no real effect. They’d killed some false animals and inconvenienced the influence. She’d broken its disaffected facade and let it know that there existed people capable of staring it in the face…but what would all of that mean once the false animals were finished with their chore?

So long as the refinery stood, so long as the heart of the evil continued to beat, then the world would not be safe.

Violet looked down and lifted one dripping foot. Then she found her spark lighter.

The beast glanced back at her, already puffed up for the coming fight. The machine continued to crackle within its core.

w h a t -- a r e -- y o u -- d o i n g ? ? ? ---- It asked, and Violet was startled to hear actual, uncontested words from her companion again. The influence had drawn well away, past any point where she could potentially hurt it.

Violet took a deep breath. She felt numb, the full consideration of what she was about to do still not entirely registering.

“We’re standing in a bunch of oil.” She said.

The beast shivered.

y o u -- d o n ’ t -- h a v e -- t o ---- It said sadly, but did not try to take the lighter away.

The cat was staring at her instrument. Its tail twitched against Violet’s side. She felt suddenly hyperaware of every small thing, life acquiring a strange vibrancy that she had only rarely felt before. There still wasn’t all that much fear, the numbness persisted even as she listened to the false animals step closer, taking their time to fully corner her. Still more of them were attempting to pave over the puddles and pools of spilt fuel with their own bodies.

“If I’m going to…to die here,” Violet said, and felt a tiny shiver roll through her at the sound of the word. “I can’t let this thing keep existing.”

The cat placed one front paw gently upon her hand, where she held the spark lighter, ready to strike.

“I’m…sorry we didn’t get to the Glow.” Her companion said, then took a deep breath. “Together?”

“Together.” Violet agreed, and looked ahead of herself. Teeth glinted in the dark.

The beast was still floating in place, only a few meters ahead of the nearest false animal. It was staring.

Violet wondered if she ought to count down, then wondered instead if the finality of such a thing would scare her. She thought that she was beginning to feel afraid now, though only slightly. It would be quick, she told herself. The refinery was so full of fumes and fuel that surely it would go up in an instant. And then….

And then….

She blinked, feeling newly uncertain. What would happen then? Violet had never given much thought to the afterlife, or if there even was one. Would she simply blink out?

But the thought of that was only frightening for a moment, because then came the realization that she wouldn’t be around to notice or care.

“On three.” She decided, supposing that a countdown wasn’t the worst idea after all.

The cat nodded, grimly determined, and stared down at the spark lighter. Violet could feel the very tips of her friend’s claws shivering against her skin, not hard enough to hurt.

“One….” She said, and felt a sudden consuming sadness that she would never draw with Maud again.

“Two….” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, for she was thinking about her mother and hoping that she would not be so sad about what had happened.

Violet gathered breath for the final number, thumb pressing hard upon the spark lighter’s handle. She could feel flint gritting over notched steel, sparks a rising inevitability.

And then the beast swooped forward.

w a i t .. ---- It said. ---- h o l d -- o n t o -- m e

For a confused moment Violet thought that the beast was coming in for an embrace, so that they might all be together when she reached the moment of action, but even as she tucked the cat gently against her chest and reached out with her other hand, the beast’s fabric was knotting under her arms, binding her so tightly that the breath was squeezed from her lungs.

“Beast…?” Violet began to ask, then she’d left the ground.

It was a startling experience, to be airborne, and she nearly lost grip on her spark lighter. Fortunately, the cat helped her snag it and even as Violet instinctively kicked at the open air, she suddenly realized what the beast was doing.

u p ! ---- Cried her friend, a great strain putting crackles into its voice, then it ducked into the cavernous maw of the chimney and Violet heard a stuttering snarl echo out from the false animals, the influence squirming in shock as its prey was suddenly whisked out of reach.

In an instant she was surrounded by darkness, a wind passing through her hair as the beast shot up the shaft of the chimney. For a half second Violet wondered if they were about to crash into a blockage, or if the beast would simply fly apart from the strain of carrying such a tremendous weight. Then she felt something heavy bump her leg and realized that the beast was jettisoning its belongings, books and trinkets and small, beautiful things falling down the smokestack in a glittering hail.

“Now!” Shouted the cat, and Violet remembered her spark lighter, her whole mission.

Together, all of them pushed and a vivid bouquet of yellowy white sparks flashed forth, tracing the arc of the beast’s things. Violet did not look up, though she was suddenly aware that it was growing much brighter, an orangey evening hue showing traces of fungus and shimmery flesh through which the influence shrieked its rage.

It would find her, it would find her, it—

Down below, so far that it was nearly out of sight, Violet saw a tiny blue light flicker to life. Then they breached the top of the chimney and were suddenly higher than anything, the whole world made small and delicate around them. She could see the great decaying expanse of the city, and the shimmering darkness of the river winding past the refinery. She could see the forest and the sky traced with azure veils of Glow, the sun glimmering like a great golden coin from where it touched the horizon.

From the depths of the refinery there came a low, concussive boom that rattled Violet’s teeth and the beast made a low, desperate whining noise deep in its throat, then angled towards the north and began to fall.

It wasn’t a rapid descent, for the beast’s fabric opened like a parachute, but the ground raced up alarmingly fast and Violet braced herself, eyes squeezing shut. They were landing on a barren hillside, marshy gray grass intercut with shallow streams that were choked with crimson fungus. They cut between a pair of mossy boulders and then landed with a thump, the beast wrapping itself over the both of them.

To Violet’s surprise, landing didn’t hurt at all, for she was cushioned by a great damp pillow of squashy marsh grass. She bounced, turned over once, and then was huddled into a careful embrace by the beast. It was shivering from its exertions, the lower jaw of its skull not sitting quite right, but it had held firm, and that was all that mattered.

Violet blinked owlishly in the evening glare, then stared south to where the refinery sat, suddenly a thousand meters distant, made small as a toy. She could see false animals whirling confusedly in place, a faint keening shriek lifting from the nearby fungus, though it was undirected. Smoke had started from some of the lower windows and even as she wondered if the whole place was about to burn down, Violet felt a sudden rumble lift the ground beneath her.

The whole of the refinery, soot blackened and soft with influence borne rot, seemed to flex outward for a moment, its surviving windows red with flame, then the whole structure was blown to vapor by the wrath of a tremendous, shattering blast.

For a half second Violet sat still, dazzled and caught completely by surprise, then a hot, smoky fist shoved her back and the beast was on top of her once again, fabric rippling with shock as the refinery went up.

Beneath her, where threads of crimson fungus had wormed their way through the grass, Violet heard the influence’s cries go suddenly silent.

When at last the beast let her up, she sat in place, trembling like a leaf, ears ringing so badly that it took her a moment to realize that the cat was speaking.

“Christ.” Her companion said, then repeated the word a few more times for good measure. It seemed just as stunned as her, sitting off kilter in her lap. Its left front paw was matted with blood, but when Violet tried to point that out, her friend simply shook its head, eyes locked on the great smoky blast cloud that was rising to dominate the southern sky. The site of the refinery itself was still completely obscured, but Violet could see a curious motion occurring within nearby stretches of the river. It took her a moment to realize that the bank had been ruptured and great gulfs of inky water were being pulled into the crater, filling it entirely. Gouts of pale steam rose in ragged veils, marking an end to the smoke.

Violet looked down to the crimson fungus, but though she could hear a few disconnected impulses echoing back and forth, there existed no greater continuity.

The influence was gone.