There was a nagging feeling at the back of Irwin's mind the moment he stepped foot on Lisbon Valley. An indecipherable sensation on the back of his throat, inching ever closer to his heart as he traversed the moonlit streets of his hometown–Richard's hometown.
He knew the moment he awoke on that thatched hut that it was time to retire the mask he had worn all this time. No longer would he hide in the shadows of the unforgiven and desecrate his dignity in exchange for loving his family.
He is Irwin Bellios, and it's time for them to know that.
The streets of the town were empty, save for a few drunks and a couple of high-schoolers vandalizing the junkyard which he now owned. He could have teleported right into the heart of the manor, but he wanted to take the scenic route.
In his mind were dozens upon dozens of scenarios in which Richard's family would digest the information given to them. Of course, he knew Lady Anastasia already knew of his secret, so that was a danger that had come to pass.
He might have been powerful enough to take on the witches of the Grand Coven and kill Olivette, but Irwin knew that they were either taken in by surprise or had been battling through a dozen other witches and had just survived a bomb, respectively.
"Well, look who's back from out of nowhere?" Gordon appeared from the shadows, a dark smile on his face. "You look like shit."
"I feel like shit." Irwin replied, shaking Gordon's outstretched hands and patting him in the back.
"Where the fuck you've been?" Gordon asked with a shake of his head as he scrutinized Irwin's appearance.
"You wouldn't believe the adventure I had," Irwin replied as he gazed at the diner as they passed through it. "I thought you'd be gone by now."
"I should have." Gordon said with candor. "But with the money rolling in and the hunts getting easier and better, didn't want to lose my advantage against the motherfuckers."
Irwin turned towards the hunter. "Hunts?"
"Don't worry about the corpses, freak." Gordon shook his head with a laugh. "It's all accounted for in the junkyard."
Irwin nodded but stayed silent until they came in front of the manor. He didn't want to show it in front of Gordon, but he was wrecked with nervousness. It was not guilty, as he was already swimming in guilt and adding more would not matter.
'It's more like I'm… hesitant to change my relationship with them.', he inwardly voiced his emotion.
He opened the gates and walked through the familiar terrace and the worn fountain in front of the manor proper. It felt like forever ago that he saw it last. Warmth bathed his body and reminded him of what he would lose if he did not finish what he had started.
Gordon had already quietly left and, from the direction where he was going, would enter the prison under the manor.
Irwin felt the coldness in the handles of the door, the screeching of its hinges as it opened, and the warm breeze that was in stark contrast to the frosty night of winter. He walked through the halls and saw the dust in the deepest recess of the furniture, chuckling at how Ella still doesn't like to clean past the walkable and seeable features.
He saw the light in the study still open and felt his heart hitch up. With a brave sigh, he knocked on the door and waited for a response.
"It's open." Archibald's voice brought a smile to Irwin's face, letting his forehead rest against the surface of the door for a moment before opening it and entering the room.
Archibald turned towards the door to see who it was that entered, only to drop everything in his hands in surprise. His eyes widened as he nearly launched himself off his chair to lock Irwin in a warm embrace. It was as if Archibald was afraid that he would disappear once more with how tight he hugged Irwin.
"You're home!" Archibald said, letting go of Irwin to cup his cheeks with tears in his eyes. "I'm glad you're safe."
"Yeah." was all Irwin could say as he gazed at how deeply relieved Archibald was that he was home. "I-I have to tell you something–"
"That can wait. I'll wake up everyone first!" Archibald patted his son's cheeks and skipped towards the door with much gusto before turning back with a shamed smile. "Oh, how could I forget? Are you hungry? Do you need something? I'll get it for you."
Irwin shook his head. "Ah, no. I'll just meet you guys in the kitchen."
He watched as Archibald, happy as a clam, ran towards the stairs, shouting as loud as he could that his son was back. He followed suit, diverging past the stairs to enter the kitchen.
He sat on the high chair beside the counter top, waiting for the rest of inhabitants of the manor to wake up. It would be a great lie to say that Irwin was not without regret that he decided upon this declaration, but like many who came before him, regret does not mean his choice was terrible.
It only meant that it would bring him pain.
Ella was the first one to break through the door, her reddened eyes widening at his sight. She broke into a sprint, launching herself haphazardly towards Irwin in hopes that he will catch her, which he did.
His arms swarmed across her back and so did hers. The warmth of their skin mixed together to form an unnatural bond, one that was best left unseen by many. Yet Ella did not care.
She held her head back to gaze into his eyes and, with rosy cheeks, planted her lips upon his mouth. Caught off-guard, Irwin let her take the dominant position in his lips, her tongue barging into his mouth and taking what was rightfully hers.
"I missed you." She said through the intermittent gulps of air before returning to her passionate kiss.
Irwin did not respond, merely caressing her skin as she digested that he was really here and not a figment of her imagination. Her passion was so strong that, even with his Enhanced Physique, he did not notice the arrival of other people.
"Oh, my!"
"Sweet!"
"Annalize, cover your eyes.!"
"I can't see! What are they doing?"
Irwin gently, but firmly, removed Ella off of his lap, as he took in the sight of the people he left behind. Ella quickly wiped the saliva on her mouth and busied herself on the kitchen counter as Irwin felt another lady jump into his lap.
"You're back! I missed you so much." Annalize buried her head into his chest, tears dampening his clothes.
Irwin felt a thump in his heart, hands trembling in some erroneous emotion, before returning the hug with a smile on his face. "I miss you, too, peachy."
"Glad you're back, muchacho." Garth, knowing that Annalize wouldn't budge from her position, patted Irwin in the back whilst discreetly wiping the tears in his face.
"Are you crying?" Irwin asked.
"No… this is–I'm sweating. You wouldn't believe how hot it is here." The hunter reasoned out, joining Ella on to the side.
"I am glad you're back. Your coming has been foretold." Lady Anastasia remarked with a critical eye. "I did not know you were acquainted with the angels."
"Mutual benefits acquaint many people with many things." Irwin said mysteriously before turning the conversation. "Enough of that. How's Charlotte?"
"Upstairs in my room. She had Returned To Origin." Lady Anastasia said, much to the speculation of the other people in the room.
"That's good. She's been through that before. It'll be easier to pull her back." He said. He patted Annalize's head one last time, feeling her soft hair and allowing himself to breathe.
Archibald clapped his hands, "Alright. That's enough for now. I'm sure you have to rest. We'll accost you with stories tomorrow."
"I, uh, before I go and rest…" He looks towards Annalize, then to Lady Anastasia.
The witch took on his meaning, snapping her fingers and levitating the child out of Irwin's lap. "Peachy, it's time for your bedtime."
Annalize wanted to complain, but Lady Anastasia was fast enough to get her out of the room. Before she left, however, the matriarch of the Greythorne Clan gazed at Irwin with renewed light.
"I don't suggest you do this, boy." She advised, before sighing with exhaustion.
Irwin shuffled under his seat as they looked at him with a confused gaze.He heaved a breath and began unloading his secret.
"I am not Richard Greythorne," He said, much to everyone's confusion. "Richard died a few months back during the night the Ancestor died. His heart was eaten by Eleanor, your mother."
Ella blinked before barking out laughter. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"My name is Irwin Bellios. I'm from the Bronx. Well, not really. I just live there… didn't really assimilate with the culture." Irwin scratched the back of his neck as the words kept pouring out of his mouth. "I was a convicted killer. A crackhead killed my niece and nephews and was raping my sister, so I killed him and her in a fit of anger. Cops thought I was the one who killed all of them, I didn't dispute it… when I died, I kind of… I just waited in the darkness for like a hundred years, maybe? Then I just got pulled into Richard's body."
There was a beat of silence as the three digested the information. Ella had trembled into a seat, glaring at Irwin with dilating eyes.
Archibald gave a sigh. One born of exasperation. He trudged towards the window overlooking the courtyard. A grave smile appeared on his face.
"What the fuck, man?!" Garth was the first to break the tense silence. "Who the fuck are you?"
Irwin smiled. "I'm still the Richard you met, but not the Richard they knew, so, technically, you shouldn't actually be here."
"Oh! I'll be… Nice to see you, man!" Garth gave a goofy smile and bowed his head repeatedly before grabbing a can of beans from the pantry–undoubtedly, his midnight snack–and leaving the room.
Irwin turned towards Archibald, who probably was amongst the handful of people who deeply cared about Richard. Irwin wanted to console him, tell him that his son was living free in heaven and, in his final moments, he sacrificed his soul to save his sister and he did.
Irwin didn't even know when he began recounting his encounter with Richard, all he could count on was that it was the unvarnished truth. Throughout the story, Archibald's face morphed from stoic grieving to one of pure anguish, mired by the consequences of his own actions.
It was true that if it were not for his duty to his family, then Richard's death would not have been so brutal, nor would it have happened during his lifetime. It was also true that his death set off a series of events that saved the lives of many and freed the family of its ever-lasting curse.
"Did… Did he tell you anything before he left?" Asked Archibald after a while.
Irwin nodded, even though the man had his back against him. "Yeah. He told me to take care of his family. Especially P–Annalize."
Archibald turned around, tears marking his wizened face, and clapped Irwin's shoulders, "Welcome home, son."
He didn't say anything else and merely left Irwin alone with Ella, his footsteps receding the room. The moment he left, a great weight was removed off of Irwin's shoulder, akin to an onion unraveling a thick layer.
Irwin turned towards Ella and would have asked her what she was thinking, but before he could, she inched forward with a question of her own.
"Can you pretend to be Richard just for one night?" She asked.
Irwin was confused, doubly so because he thought she would be angry with him.
Ella grunted and asked once more, "Just for one night, pretend to be Richard, alright?"
"Alright." Irwin acquiesced.
Before he could ask why, Ella was already on him, pouncing hard like a cheetah in heat. Her warm breath bathing his own mouth as she planted kiss after kiss upon his jaw and neck.
Her hands roamed around his body, caressing and searching for something even he does not know what. Knowing full well that he was taking advantage of her and that she was grieving the loss of her friend, Irwin returned her kiss and prowled around her body too.
For a moment, nothing was relevant to the two as they succumbed to their base desires. Their moans and grunts echoed throughout the kitchen floor before the chair in which they say broke and launched their body against the floor.
They did not care, however, as though the fits of passion. Pain was merely foreplay to true pleasure.
Irwin did not know the last time he awoke to the feeling of warmth bathing his body. He allowed his base instinct to cloud his judgment, nullifying months of hard work not to delude Ella into having relations with him.
Yet, here he was, deep into her embrace, naked and cuddling.
The sun had already risen, sunlight poured through the town with an effervescent effect to the emotions within the manor. The small hubbub below the room made its way to Irwin's ears, thanks in part to his Enhanced Physique, but he chose not to listen to it as he had far more dire consequences he had to take responsibility for.
He turned his head ever so slowly, enough that he could gaze at Ella's sleeping face with comfort and undisturbed. Her heavy breasts heaved up and down, but he already had his fill of her body a few hours earlier.
His gaze was tracing along the sweat dripping from the side of her head down to the nape of her neck.
"You're awake." He said, noticing her irregular breathing pattern and slightly clenched jaw. "I don't know about you, but… I am starving."
"Don't talk to me." She replied, turning her head to the other side whilst still in his embrace.
Irwin sighed in understanding and tried to pull out his arms under her neck, but found it strangely heavy. Sure enough Ella had trapped his arm under the weight of her body and intertwined her fingers on his hands.
A soft smile appeared on Irwin's face as he relaxed on the bed and let his warmth pass through her naked body.
He groaned in comfort as he said, "You know, I'm still a bit tired from yesterday. Might as well–"
"Shut up." She scolded.
"Yes, ma'am."
●●●●●
Three hours later, Irwin stretched his sore arms and neck as he finished his bowl of cereal and threw it unto the sink, only to find a snickering Garth glaring at him.
"What?" He asked.
The hunter scoffed. "You smell like shit and you're not gonna wash your dishes?"
Irwin tilted his head in confusion. "I've been deep in shit for a few months, asshole. Also, why the fuck would I wash my dish? It's just a bowl. Besides, why the fuck are you here? Didn't I send you to Wyoming?"
"Well, certain circumstances happen, one of which was your disappearance. It ain't my fault they needed my expertise on the matter." Garth shrugged condescendingly.
Irwin sighed, "Jesus. Pack your bags, Garth. You're going to New England."
Irwin shook his head and left the kitchen, only for Garth to follow behind him with a curious gaze.
"Why am I going to New England?" He asked.
Irwin didn't look back as he headed towards the study, but he did inform Garth of his purpose. In order to accomplish his goal of monopolizing the corpses of monsters hunted by the American hunters, he would need a base of operations–one that was established long before his time and was entrenched with the hearts of said hunters.
Harvelle's Roadhouse would be the perfect choice. Although he had already decided upon it during the initial creation of the idea, it was best to be thorough before the establishment of his bounty system.
He could contact Congressman Brown for some deconsecrated military base or even use Bobby's junkyard in Sioux Falls as the base of operation, but he figured that already had established a rapport with the members and owners of the roadhouse.
Seeing Garth nod along in realization, Irwin set aside a portion of his attention and dug deep within the pockets of his Trade Counter. He pulled out a silver coin with scratch marks all around its surface. A three-horned goat was engraved on one of its sides while a pentagram was on the other.
"Take this. Keep it in your jacket pocket at all times, never leave it in your car." He flicked the coin towards Garth.
"What does it do?" Garth asked. "Is it like the Card?"
"Yes, and no. Just know that it'll probably save your life." Irwin entered the study.
"Thanks–Wait? Probably?" Garth asked, but Irwin, however, had already closed the door.
Irwin chuckled and locked the door to not let Garth inside, but to his surprise, someone else was in his seat. The striking salt-and-pepper hair, twirly mustache, and the bold tanned skin sat upon the leather chair and was rifling through the documents as if he owned the place.
"Archie?" He asked, perplexed by seeing the owner of the manor. "What are you… what are you doing here?"
Archibald chuckled at his expression, "Who do you think was handling all paperworks when you–I meant Richard–was canoodling half the town."
Irwin laughed outright, inching towards the leather chair adjacent to the office table before sitting on it with a comfortable sigh. He rested his head upon the back rest, waiting for Archibald to finish his current load of paperwork.
"Oh, it appears that your project with the city is finished." Archibald said, placing a single document in front of Irwin whilst he stowed the others on a drawer.
"Which one?"
"The proposed Garden Park north of Willintel lake." Archibald read.
"That's good," Irwin replied and when he noticed Archibald's inquisitive brows flexing at him, he continued, "I received an item as a gift. It'll create like a time capsule for magical ingredients for spell components."
Archibald chortled, "I see. That is certainly helpful, especially when you're no longer draining Anastasia's menagerie."
Irwin agreed wholeheartedly, still frustrated that he was given a weekly quota for her menagerie and had to sometimes dip into his credits for the ingredients. That was why his first order of business, now that he's back, was to create his very own Garden of Eden.
Just from the name alone, it signified something great, and he had an inkling that it would increase a flora's cultivation yield and increase growth.
"But before that," Irwin turns towards Archibald. "I'm glad you've taken over. I may have to rest and will therefore be unavailable in the next few days."
"What? Are you alright, son?" Archibald asked with genuine concern, as far as Irwin could tell.
Irwin nearly flinched when Archibald said 'son', but shook it off with a helpless smile, "You smell that?"
"Well, I wasn't going to say anything since you… well, you know." Archibald shrugged his shoulders.
Irwin chuckled, "That's the smell of my intestines and kidneys being slowly liquified and every other red blood cell in my body rotting at a rate faster than my heart could barely keep up."
Archibald's eyes widened, slamming his hand against the table, "What? Are you alright? What–"
"I'm fine. I don't feel it because of this," Irwin took out an incredibly cracked Over-morrow talisman, as if a single blow of hot air would crumble it into ashes. "But I only have a few more hours. So, I might need the room where Charlotte used to stay."
"Of course, I'll have Ella prepare it." Archibald readily agreed.
"No. I'll do it." Irwin shook his head. "She's, uh, busy…"
Archibald tilted his head for a moment before his eyes widened some more and began muttering and laughing to himself.
"We really should hire some new helpers." Irwin remarked as he groaned out of his seat. "Ella doesn't even lift the books to dust the damn shelf."
Archibald chuckled, "As much as I agree with you, there are risks with a maid. You, of all people, know what we hide in our closets or, in this case, basements."
He was certainly right, but Irwin had over ten thousand credits in his pockets, which could certainly solve the problem of their secrets leaking. Unfortunately for the manor, he was now hesitant to use his greatest weapon in trivial matters.
He exited the study, leaving Archibald to his work, and strained his knees as he ascended up the stairs, going past the second floor where a resting Ella and a comatose Charlotte lay.
The third floor only had two rooms. Lady Anastasia resided in the room to the right, where dozens, if not hundreds, of sigils and wardings were engraved in or around the room. While the room on the left was uninhabited, prior to that, it was the prison cell of Charlotte before she was willfully dominated and converted into his side.
He went past the marble busts, paintings, and a glass tincture with an unknown liquid inside before arriving in front of a metal door. He deactivated its defensive sigil, allowing himself inside, and found the chamber in disarray and full of dust.
He closed the door, locking it from the inside using a specific mechanism known only to him, Lady Anastasia, and Archibald. The room, after all, was designed as a panic room in case of an emergency.
Not even angels could teleport inside and it would take hours before they could batter their way inside. That was, of course, on the assumption that the mechanism was activated and was being supplied with energy.
Irwin sat on the bed and began taking off his clothes, leaving his body to bear the chilly breeze permeating the air. The wounds he had incurred over the months of torture and battle had already healed and regenerated to the point that only the deepest gash remained visible.
It would be deceptive of him to say that he was happy with his return to the manor. All it did was remind him of what he lost and what more he would lose should he diverge from the path he had decided upon.
The only this would end would be freeing Earth from the factions of demons and angels, allowing humans to fend off the monsters native to this planet without the help of otherworldly creatures.
For that to happen, he would first need to resist the aftermath of the corruption being delayed by a slowly crumbling artifact.
He steadied his beating heart before tugging the Over-morrow and breaking its effect.
It was akin to the breaking of a large, thick dam. A swell of unimaginable pain assaulted his whole body. Thick, dark blood poured out of every orifice as his skin broke in large patches, bone cracking under the weight of an irresistible and oppressive aura emanating from multiple points in his body.
His roar caused the very foundation of the chamber to tremble, magical energy pulsating in intervals, as if to relieve him of even the smallest of pain. For an hour, Irwin could do nothing but scream in pain as his body destroyed itself from the inside before regenerating from the residual energy that destroyed it in the first place.
He chuckled in exhaustion after a while, relief flooding his system. But he knew this would only be temporary, a wave finished only to have another at the hems.
"Three more days to go!"
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