Old Kansas Sector ~ 15: Down Home Daeva - SCP Foundation

☦Allan fights anomalies in a post-normal world.☦

The Last Era: 14, August, 2119 AD

Daeva, XixXiy, Artery 9

3 AM

Gersha stared at Tatty wordlessly for several minutes.

"Holy, shit lady you are fucked up."

Tatty shrugged, and continued speaking in her lazy, breathy drawl. "That whole thing was heavy. You know, I probably am going to feel bad for some of that after the anger washes over."

"Like that is the most transgressive scene I've ever seen in my life, geez, and I watch Sarx. I've never seen a person that dead."

"No, no I didn't kill him, I sent them all to a cattle field, you know those Sark homonkyless things. Killing isn't… Anyway honey, yes it was very nice, but, I've got to get you to Dark."

"Huh? I thought you were rescuing me. I thought we were gonna adventure, together. Gosh, I was so excited even."

"You could have done that yourself. I know what's going on in your head. You may not know how to fly a helicopter, but you know how to crash one, and… Who's your other friend?"

Gersha giggled. "Who?"

"Allen. He's looking out through your eyes."

"Eww! Get it out! That's gotta be bad for you!"

"Mmm, in time. I am pushing it with the god thing today."

—

Clef, Kain, and Kondraki fell roughly 14 meters out of the sky, but luckily they had a soft landing. Clef was still hurting from being put through a mostly metaphorical grinder, so he took the fall a little better.

Kain growled. "Are you alright Clef? You seem disturbed."

Clef shook his head. "I'm… Good. Tuned it out…" Clef twitched. "Tuned most of it out." He felt along his arms and torso. "Safe now."

Kain tilted his head.

—

Tatty and Gersha walked west down the highway. Tatty smiled and waved at a curious group of Walking Sticks.

"'Tatty'. Huh. I always knew you as the Wicked Witch from the History channel. I didn't know you had a name. And why are we walking? Don't you have powers? Aren't you like full god mode? Why are you so old. I mean what? Can't you just do a spell or think and be young again? Why'd you squish Kansas? Think the Walkin' Sticks are mad at you for it? Why don't you change them back! How did you know that Clef guy? Do you like TV?"

Tatty gave Gersha a tired look. "Slow down, breathe. Enjoy the stroll."

—

All around it smelled of sulfur and bacon. The air and fog was frigid wet, and stuck like a film. The three were surrounded by sharp mountains tiered with caged terraces, writhing masses of figures moving inside of them. Streaky brown clouds hung around them like reams of cotton candy.

The cattle fields of Daeva covered the majority of what was once northern Russia. The formes grown here were the source of all implant and transplant in all of its Sarikik theocracy. Huddled together across the valley were cattle, groups of figures composed of assorted human parts.

A six legged, well, six connected legs scampered by. Kondraki screamed and fell backwards. "She sent us to Hell! What in the fuck! Why!?"

Kain wiped his face. "You… No, Daeva, we are most likely in Daeva. This is obviously Sarikik. Get a hold of yourself."

A figure appeared in the distance, screaming at them in Russian.

"What in the world! What are you kids doin' out here? You're on my land don't you know? I saw that big old portal open up, you know you can't do that kind of stuff here! I'm a Sarikist man, I won't abide magic."

Kain barked back in broken Russian. "Sorry. We are sorry sir. We are not wizards. We were weirded by a witch."

"Aw." The farmer appeared out of the fog. He was pale red, with thick purple veins covering his body. He had four arms and two legs. His third eye looked around lazily. His arms, mantid like scythes, retracted into his body, folding over and becoming two arms with sets of tripod fingers. Steam released from his pores during this transformation, the air becoming thick with the smell of copper and sulfur. He blinked sideways. "Aw. Hell. I hate witches. Disgustin'. Well come inside and get out of the stick! Don't want anyone to come out here and confuse you for a cow!"

"I cannot believe our good luck!" Barked Kain, turning to the two.

Kondraki and Clef stared at the person thing wordlessly.

—

Tatty looked over the horizon. "Portal's over down that way. Yeahup."

"Oooh, neat. Where does it go?"

Tatty looked up, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "Dark's place."

"Why are we going there? Who's Dark anyway?"

"Dark, is, a… Dark's complicated. Dark owns SinDark. Dark needs something from out of your head. You have lots of people in your head. A whole nation. Wild stuff, huh."

Gersha held her breath. "So I seem to keep getting kidnapped."

Tatty furrowed her brow. "What? I… Technically… Damn. That is what I'm doing, isn't it? Damn damn damn." Tatty rested her chin on a curled knuckle. "That won't do at all. You know what? You know what?"

Gersha's frown quickly transformed into a wide grin. She jumped up and down. "What, what!?"

"Uh… jeez, yeah no. My word is my bond, I'm still taking you to Dark."

"Awww!"

—

The group shivered next to a compost hearth. The farmer handed each of them ivory cups while taking a sip himself. Kain lapped at the thick, sweet substance eagerly. Clef slowly downed the liquid while looking off into space.

"Miss this stuff."

The home was covered in colorful, living wreaths of hair and skin, but so detailed were the shapes of the things that one might not notice this. The farmer, XixZiv, explained to them that the home itself was grown from a first generation XixXix Daevo-Sarikik architectural fetus that he had sired and birthed himself. He ran his fingers along the wall tenderly.

"Well I know you didn't come here on purpose. But, hell I don't know how you're gonna leave. It's just farm for about 300 kilometers. Well, that and you aren't Daeva, so you'll have some trouble with the police. I mean they'll take your parts, right off ya. I would too, I want to, but I'm a Sarikik man, a real one, not the type you see on TV."

Kondraki nodded slowly. XixZiv blinked.

"Say, where are ya'll from anyway?"

"Yellowstone. It's an unincorporated place. The Northern West Americas." Kain replied.

XixZiv slapped his leg. "Ah, so yer pigs, not cows."

Kain and XixZiv laughed riotously. Clef and Kondraki looked to Kain for confirmation.

"What's it saying?"

"Will… Will it help us?"

"They don't speak a lick of Russian?" XixZiv asked.

Kain shook his head. "Where is the nearest border?"

"300 kilometers. South of here. But there ain't no roads. Best bet is takin' the river, and you'll get that a ways east. Well that and it's… " XixZiv whispered. "Bronze. Brass. Metal. When you cross the border? Flesh just stops."

Kain wagged his tail.

XixZiv thought for a moment. "Hell now that I think of it you have to go. If you ever want to leave that is. Y'all most definitely got the virus just from hangin' out around here. I remember full humans like yourselves don't got any immunity to it."

Kondraki absently wiped at a tiny fleshy tendril sticking out of his nose. He looked around at the breathing, pulsating carpet and barely glimpsed the shape of lips behind the wallpaper. He observed the tendons and bones softly shaking in the frames of the doorway, and fleshy globs poking through cracks in the porcelain walls. The carpet breathed beneath his paws.

Kain gulped. "The Flesh Virus! Of course. That is so interesting. You seem to have incorporated it into yourselves… That is, well… Well they go together so nicely don't they? I didn't even notice. We are most likely… Two to three hours until we succumb. It is best we keep a productive attitude. We probably need to get going then. We appreciate your hospitality."

Kondraki bit his knuckle and looked to Kain angrily. "What is he saying?"

Clef shrugged, slumped in his chair, and picked at a tiny tendril wiggling under his fingernail.

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