Death's Twelve

Broken Compass - The Flatwoods Monster Pt 1

     Broken Compass | A Death's 12 Story | Part One
      Author - Paulythewysguy

The smell of sulfur scented the air, as fireworks back lit the night sky. Each burst, accompanied by flickers of light that set the land a glow, and a raucous boom, that thundered like cannons over a 13th century battlefield. As the cannonade continued, the brightened skyline eventually gives way to the silhouette of a neighboring cemetery. An old and tattered concrete junkyard, filled with rows of lost dreams and wasted potential. Tombs chipped and eroded from years of scorn from its abusive foster parents, Mother Nature and Father Time.

There between the illumination a shadowy figure emerges from darkness, as if it had conquered stealth itself, gracefully perching upon a nearby headstone. His purpose, intentional, his stance carrying a quiet assuredness only held by the strong. After a few moments of careful surveillance, the man pulled back his hood, flashes of light revealing glimpses of his face. Thick and furrowed brows overlooking two confident brown eyes, and a strong jawline fit for baring the weight of his stern expression.

He takes a beat, as if stealing a brief moment for himself, before lifting his wrist to his mouth to give the signal. "All clear, send the others". Not soon after, in rapid succession, three others begin to materialize from the shadows, until four stand numbered among them. They are the Bomani. Psychopomps, who guide and usher souls to the realm of the dead. When souls cannot rest, they exercise them.

"The gruff grimacing guy is Norlin. He's the second eldest of my siblings, but the way he bosses everyone around, you wouldn't have guessed it", mumbled a spectacled young man with a huge frizzy fro, emerging from the same darkness as the others. "The big guy next to Nor is my eldest brother, Easy, he's my favorite. He always looks out for me", he says with a warm smile, as a large musclebound tank of a man lumbers out the shadows and walks up to meet Norlin.

Shortly after, a woman follows Easy out of the darkness, dressed in a midriff length baggy flight jacket, knee-high combat boots, sporting wavy orange and black hair, toting a rifle. "The stylish one is my annoying sister, Souki. She always teases me", he gestures to a non-corporeal mouse sitting upon his left shoulder, that only he could see. "That just leaves me, I'm...", he's interrupted mid sentence.

"Wes! Earth to Wes, come in Wes. Need you to focus. We're on a mission here, and we can't have a repeat of Point Pleasant", Norlin scolds. "I get it, I get it—", Wes tries to assure him before being cut off. "Listen. We need that big brain of yours today, but you can't help us if you're off in LaLa Land, so get your head in the game", Norlin explains while grabbing Wes by each shoulder. "Okay", Wes sulked. With a whisk of his finger the mouse disappears. "Its one life for a hundred souls, right?", Norlin prompts. "One life for a hundred souls", Wes replies in agreement.

"Let's get going, and try not to be so hard on him, Nor", Easy said in a stern voice. "You know, you really do spoil the brat too much, Ease", Souki teases, as she walks by Wes smirking. Wes mocks Souki, sticking his tongue out at her. "That's what big brothers are for", Easy jokes, rustling his hands through Wes's hair.

"Alright, let's get back on track. Sou, where to?", Norlin says, refocusing the mission. An insignia located on the pupil of her right eye, known as a Glyph, began to glow as she uttered the word "TRACK". Her eyes glaze over, and after a moment, the glint is back in them. "Intel from the kid says we're headed to Flatwoods, and I'm picking up energy readings about a mile and half from here", Souki says, squinting her eyes while aiming a finger gun towards their destination.

"Great. Ease, you're on transport. Wes, that's just enough time to brief us on the target along the way. Everyone get prepped, we head out in five.", Norlin orders. Wes walks into the middle of the cemetery, as the Glyph on his left shoulder lights up. "CRYPTID, gather medics and soldiers", he says, prompting ghosts of soldiers, doctors, and nurses to arise from their graves. An eerie and unsightly display, waking these souls from their restful slumber. Though, within a few short seconds, they're all absorbed within Wes.