บท 27: The Discovery

"So... these are them?"

Holden stared at the strange creatures that wandered the fairground before him. Cows and pigs would trot along the dirt paths that split in many directions. To call them unordinary, however, would be a great disservice. They resembled what Holden would imagine to be the product of years of exposure to nuclear radiation. Pigs with several eyes decorating their face, chickens with two breaks and double tongues, and horses with heads on both sides of their bodies like some sort of scientific experiment.

"Aren't they the most precious things? These must be stragglers on the outskirts of the danger zone. Poor babies." Natasha couldn't help but approach the abnormalities and pat them individually. Although she'd deny it, she was addicted to petting the soft fur or smooth skin of animals, both strange and regular.

"That's one way to put it," Holden remarked while he placed his hands on his hips.

Natasha waved the two young men over to join her and so they did. Jackson and Holden alike rubbed the snout of a nearby sheep whose throat contained an open cavity lined with teeth. It reminded Holden of Melony's gaping stomach back when he initially met her, even more so when the sheep munched on a rare plot of grass with its exposed neck-mouth.

"They can look off-putting, but they're calm by nature. I wish we could take back a few, I bet they'd get along with Pepper just fine," Natasha suggested.

"I mean maybe. They do feel nice to pet though, I'll say that much," Holden admitted.

"You can say that again. There's some more approaching, probably coming to check us out. Though if they've noticed our presence..." Jackson trailed off as he neared the end of what he had to say. He was right, from around the bend where the dirt road veered behind a concession building, more cryptids emerged. They were similar to the ones the trio had stumbled upon already.

"Keep an eye out, but don't count on the pig spawn coming just yet. Our passive aura isn't all that different from the state these animals are in. If I had to guess, our enemies are probably wired to target aggression directed at themselves or the pig," Natasha replied.

"God, these guys have been trapped here, kept inside by the pig and its forces. Considering their status as cryptids, they can sense our emotions, our intent. We're likely the first people in a while who didn't come off as aggressive to them. No wonder they'd congregate around us."

She solemnly placed her forehead against a baby goat that approached her. Its horns had elongated and curved to extend backward before tapering off past its hind legs. This structure of the bone gave its horns the appearance of lagging behind its owner as a coattail. Upon contact the goat closed its yellow eyes, purring softly while a wave of calmness washed through its body like a delicate stream of water.

"This one says it's the last of its family. That its brothers and sisters were sacrificed… and it only survived by mere luck. I can feel its loneliness. It's like a star in an isolated galaxy, trapped between a stretch of blank space," Natasha revealed. She closed her eye and stroked the goat's neck while she nuzzled its head some more.

"Jesus, look at them," said Jackson. He pointed towards the animal's stomach, but what he took note of required no explicit mention. The malnourished stomachs and leathery, eroded skin of the creatures were obvious to Holden as he watched.

"Their well-being became secondary," Holden concluded. "Whether they ate, whether they could live happy and fulfilling lives. It took a backseat to the priorities of the pig." He winced slightly while his eyes traversed the flesh of the beings in front of them. Scars and bruises had been woven into their skin serving as permanent reminders of their maltreatment.

"It wouldn't surprise me if their food and water supply were collected and delivered to the pig at their expense. Not to mention how their days have been relegated to serving that thing so that it could feed on their offspring and produce more pig spawn. That kind of life-"

"Isn't living," Holden interjected, cutting Jackson off by instinct as the words came to mind. Jackson took note but didn't lambast Holden for his interruption. He simply clicked his tongue in agreement as he witnessed the annoyance in Holden's eyes.

Holden thought back to that fateful day when he turned ten. When he woke up alone in the horrifying wilderness. How he spent so much time walking through the filth, the elements eating away at his body until his physical and mental health was brought to the brink of collapse. Back then time seemed to dissolve in the face of excruciating monotony. Eventually, the trees and shrubbery all blended together like a once beautiful painting reduced to a blur of color.

Yet facing all of that, he was able to hold out a little longer when offered the company of a woodland friend. Even as he dove into his memories, the squirrel who perched on his shoulder was fresh in his mind. He swore he could feel the weight of its body resting on him while he recalled his childhood experience. Though that living, breathing animal was the closest thing he had to a connection for the months he was alone, even companionship could not satisfy the ravenous hunger that settled in his gut. So, he made a choice. A choice he hated, but one that was necessary all the same.

What he saw now was different. When he made his decision, it pained him greatly. He hated himself for it, from the moment he did it to the time spent lingering on what he'd done long after. Here at the fairground, all that existed in this expanse of space was suffering and exploitation. Dozens, potentially hundreds of creatures were being used and discarded like blood-riddled tissues.

Somewhere along the line, their value had been written off by their oppressor. Even pain and death imposed by horrid circumstances tied a thick knot in Holden's stomach. When directly confronted with senseless, intentional violence on a larger scale, a sense of overwhelming frustration was instilled within him. He clenched his fists and grit his teeth with indignance as his mind sifted through various thoughts, all dripping with resentment. The occupiers of the fairground had certainly earned his ire.

The cryptid's attention was drawn to Holden as they acknowledged his anger, but they did not fear it. Intuitively they understood that it was not directed at them. Even the baby goat Natasha cradled in her arms briefly retreated from her grasp to take note of the emotion Holden exuded. Despite its youth and despite having endured similar outbursts of negativity, it too could grasp the difference between what it felt now and what it experienced prior with the pig's soldiers.

"Stop it," Jackson demanded. "You'll bring our enemies here, you know better than to draw them in while the animals are here. I get how you feel, but we need to face them when these ones won't be endangered."

Taking a deep breath, Holden lowered his temperature and returned to a neutral state.

"Yeah, you're probably right. There's just something about this that really... really irks me. I don't want to stall or wait any longer. We need to shut this shit down right here and now."

"And we will," Natasha confirmed. "Jackson is correct, so I'll tell the animals to get away from here to give us some space. As soon as that's done, you can flare up your emotions all you like. Believe me, I feel similarly."

The animals understood her perfectly, the lot of them turning to walk in the opposite direction of the hybrids. With them out of the picture, the party would have the clearance required to engage in proper combat. Without so much as communicating with each other, all three unveiled their insulated emotions without holding back. All their disgust ripped through the air with unburdened fervor, spilling in every direction much like the dirt paths that stretched into the distance. It was only a matter of moments before the pounding of feet became audible from far off.

Like a gang of wild buffalo, the footsteps were loud and heavy. The creatures they belonged to were exactly as Natasha described once they came into view, though even her words couldn't capture their disturbing appearance. With the head of a boar and the body of a somehow bipedal cow, they were submerged within the uncanny valley. Thick globs of saliva and foam leaked from their mouths and spilled down their savage chests. Their wide eyes lacked focus like they saw through everything in their field of vision. The once-white sclera turned a deep shade of pink, and veins bulged from their necks and foreheads beneath the skin.

The beasts stood massive in stature. They easily towered over even Jackson and if Holden had to estimate their height, he'd guess them to all be around seven feet tall. Perhaps most notable of all was the texture of their skin. It looked messy, and it didn't take long for Holden to realize why. If he were to grind up and chew meat before spitting it back out and gluing it together, his creation would achieve an identical appearance to the outer layer of these beasts. These, he realized, were the products of the Pig's feeding. What were once the children of the farm animals had been utterly destroyed and warped to facilitate whatever horror these pig spawn were.

Onward they marched, many of them armed with clubs, pipes, or chunks of miscellaneous metal they salvaged from around the run-down property. The three hybrids who faced these amalgamations of death prepared themselves, sheer resolve settling in their minds.

They would do what was necessary.

---

"Find anything yet? All I've got so far are couches and carpets as far as the eye can see," asked Xavier as he guided his flashlight's beam along the furniture around him.

"Nothing yet. But I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt it isn't over here at the cash register."

Xavier peeked over at his partner Mark, watching as grabbed hold of several bank notes.

"For real? We'll get paid by Dean regardless, just get a side hustle or something if you're that desperate. Have you even checked the clothing aisle yet?"

"Nope, haven't gotten around to it. And a side hustle? What for? That's a lot more work than looting. Wouldn't you say so?" Mark stood some distance away in front of several white mannequins, each carefully dressed in winter attire. He licked his lips while he counted the stack of bills in his hand, a satisfied smirk unfolding across his face as he did. Xavier released a soft huff as he always did when he realized what his companion occupied himself with.

"If you'd actually help me find what we're looking for, we'd get paid even sooner. You know that right? Those extra twenty dollars can wait while we've got a job to do." Xavier flashed a judgmental gaze towards his accomplice, Mark answering his glance with a smug smile.

"You're a real buzz kill. Dean saves your life once from some bug monster and now you wanna act all serious as his errand boy. Suck up..."

"I understand the value of loyalty and hard work. You on the other hand... sometimes I wonder if you even care about what it is we do," Xavier replied as he resumed his search. His light weaved through the air like a fish gliding through water. Although it illuminated the dust bunnies that coated the desks and chairs he now stood in the center of, it did little to reveal his true target.

"Course I care. I coulda taken any job, but I took this one. Why do you think that is, huh?"

"Because you lack transferable job skills, as do you lack the commitment to develop a respectable career," Xavier spat while he proceeded to rummage through a stack of cardboard boxes. He hung his head as each container revealed itself to be empty when he peeled back the flaps.

"I can commit myself to a buncha stuff, and not just that good green, if you're smellin what I'm cookin. For instance! I have a blazing passion for all things smoothie and tea related. In fact, you could call me a drink connoisseur and I wouldn't correct you. Not to brag or anything, it's just that when my refined taste buds meet the smooth surface of a nice cold beverage, I'm-"

Mark came to a stop when Xavier raised his hand into the air. Even in the middle of his monologue, Mark understood what that signified. It was a sign they'd mutually agreed upon should something serious occur.

"You find something," Mark whispered. He cautiously walked closer to Xavier, closing the distance between them.

"Every so often I keep seeing shapes dart off in my peripheral vision. At first I wrote it off, but the more it happens the more I sense the shift in atmosphere. You notice it too, don't you?"

"Now that you mention it... yeah, I do sense it. Something that isn't afraid of us, unlike our target. It feels like it wants to hurt us. Hey, you don't suppose we're being watched do you?"

Mark's head revolved like it were on a swivel, though he couldn't discern anybody else present no matter where he directed his flashlight.

"Do you even need to ask? Of course we are. Though I have no clue who's been monitoring us," Xavier condescendingly replied.

"Maybe they're friends with the little freak we're chasing. That's possible, isn't it? It's not like it'd be unprecedented, our prey surrounding itself with protection that is. What do you think we should do," Mark asked.

"We ought to reconvene with Dean and the others. We'll discuss what we found and consider our options from there," Answered Xavier

Tucking his stolen money neatly into his pocket, Mark smirked and stuck his tongue out playfully.

"Aww, running back to big man Dean are we? I guess I'm not opposed to that, things are easier with that guy making all the decisions. We just gotta follow what he says and we're walking down an easy street. Wait a minute…"

Mark tilted his head with confusion when Xavier's eyes widened in surprise.

"What, something on my face?"

Before the rattled Xavier could warn him, a hand reached towards Mark's head from behind. Quickly ducking underneath the grab, Mark spun around and launched his foot straight into the being who attacked him. The thing fell back and crashed into a shelf, the sheets it held collapsing and draping over it. With shaky legs it rose to its feet once more, swiping the linen off it to reveal its form. There before the duo stood one of the white mannequins, its doll-like limbs twitching momentarily before it barreled its way forward.

"I sensed it behind me. Thanks for the heads up, you should have seen your face. Most emotion I've seen from you in a while," Mark casually remarked before raising both of his palms into the air.

From them, an explosion of liquid gold burst forth and shoved the mannequin back to the ground. The thing silently flailed on the ground in a frenzy before the melted metal ate through its shell and reduced it to a mess of plastic and paint.

"That was excessive," Xavier grumbled.

"It worked didn't it? Besides, it looks like we've got a bit more than just that to handle."

Both men gazed ahead as several more mannequins stumbled towards them with an awkward gait, their walk a mix of losing their balance and regaining it at unpredictable intervals.

"So we do," Xavier spoke before raising a single finger towards the creatures. "Let's clear out the riff-raff quickly so we can find our target and get out of here."