Lord Rook was in his study. Remembering.
He had sent out a search team to the suicides home. Only to find them gone. The recycler was gone along with the vats. The mattereses were gone, along with mats, either everything had been taken away or burnt. No trace was left. Even their auric traces had been erased along with their scents.
Hmmm, he pondered on this.
Interesting children they were, no wonder they had evaded capture for such a long while. He hadn,t even heard of them until one caught the frequency of his heartbreak. As the dominant power of this region, he had no qualms about broadcasting his emotions , nor did he care if any sensitive caught it. It send those below him scurrying in fear, fearing his power, kept his rivals in check, and made sure he was the King of this land and of his realms below. But for a creature to catch on to his signal and then attempt to ride it back to his source?
Not acceptable, such a creature needed to be caught and have its powers utilized. After all, he would treat it well, and it would be kept safe. He saw nothing wrong with this. After all, he was being generous, training , a place to stay, and tender care. He didn,t make his offer to many.
But he didn,t have a chance too. After all they were gone, and here he was. Pouring over old maps in an attempt to find them, afterwards, he would drag out the holomaps and view them on his interface from his fancy technology desk of awesomeness
He needed to find them, find this so-called fleshdrive so he can crack it open and see what treasure it was hiding. A portrait of he and his wife, stared back at them, her belly ripe. It stared, with dead holographic eyes.
Morgue was screaming at this point, the fucking fleshdrive was attacking him, even though it was gone, he was still screaming with nightmares. Shit, shit , shiiit.
The tendrils of aura were reaching out, beckoning to him, whispering to him,
My child, my child, my child, my beautiful child, where are you? Why do you reject me so? Your father is looking for us both…
Fucking repeating itself over and over. It was getting creepy. One of the recruits rushed into his room, some fish faced thing…
Morgue…morgue…morgue…wake up! It was with Neia who looked at him with concerned liquid blue eyes. Here, drink this, she said. It was a simple sleeping draught of rare cow milk and honey, traded with a local bee colony. The milk had came from a raid or perhaps a feral herd out in the wastes. The feral herd with two heads. His old age was getting to him, drat…
Neia kept shaking him…awake.
Whaa, whaaa,. What?!
N3t hovered before them both, linked to the feeding tube ports in the room, hanging from a metal frame. Slightly levitating.
Both of them glared at him, the flesh drive was in clenched in Morgue,s hands. A wirey hook up tendril linking him to it, to the port behind his ear.
N3t raised his hand, the link snapped off and the fleshdrive flew over to N3t,s hand. The wire drooped out of his hand.
Neia looked at him with slitted, angry eyes, while N3t,s glowed an annoyed orange. Both of them spoke in union, both their voices with a steely. Edge.
N3t started to project a video in midair. The rays streaming in the darkness. It portrayed Morgue shambling out of his room with half-lidded eyes, pointed ghoulish ears perked up to only a sound that he can ear. It was a security feed. He went down a labyrinth of hallways twisting and turning throughout the inner trunk, only to find himself in the lab of N3t.
The fleshdrive was locked away, Morgue blasted away. No, he was about too. He simply hacked into it and unlocked it. He whisked away the fleshdrive, as though he was cradling it, and his eyes started to glow an eerie green, after it linked up to him.
The trailing feather plumes from his wings started to sheen an unearthly bright green, emitting a bright aura. And his tail seemed lighter with less eyes. His skin took on a more healthy glow, with the rot curling away to reveal living skin beneath.
And he stood up straight, instead of his usual hunched over posture, with him crawling around on all fours like some crazy odd ugly half-dead cat or dog.
He would usually leap around, trotting. His hair draping over his eyes, his red eyes glowing beneath, his claws clicking on the ground, and tail swaying yellow-orange eyes staring at empty space or eyeing one of the recruits. Wings folded with the purplish plumes trailing behind him, acting pseudo-whiskers. Occasionally, he would stretch his wings fully out, the ratty feathers arcing in the air, and emitting a rotting smell. most fled from morgue for such reason. N3t and Neia, and the rest of the recruits learned to live with it.
Below his wings, patches of bone and muscle were exposed, an eerie sight. Gleaming with blood. And his ribcage was exposed, showing a patch of area with no flesh, his heart beating with no blood flowing. Animated by some eldritch force, that N3t refused to use in order to make his physical form better.
In short, morgue was a very unsettling person to live with. He reveled in it, merely smiling when someone backed away or cackling when a new recruit ran from him.
Neia was a people person even though she was quite cold and diplomatic at times, and N3t while a bit intimidating looking in his sickly state, he was actually quite friendly.
But morgue, morgue was a creeper.
So to see him stand up straight like he was some commanding royal was a bit of a shock. They mocked royals with their names, not act like them.
And in the video, Morgue marched back to his room, tail held high and proud. But it was in a more feminine manner. Swaying his hips. In his bed, he laid back in it and went to sleep, oddly rubbing his stomach. Murmuring something too low that for the security feed to hear. Rocking back and forth, sometimes cradling a pretend child.
Morgue stared at it with red eyes and wide eyes in shock. He looked back at them and then at his sleeping form on the video. It was disturbing.
Neia noted that his plumes were now back to blackish purple. No bright green, and his tail was back to normal with the colonies of orange eyes staring back at them in shock, blinking in fear. And his skin was to its usual zombie state.
His aura detonated shock and fear, with no indication of lying.
Morgue said nothing, only a guttural croak of disbelief and shock.
N3t put the fleshdrive in a lead case and locked it. “Morgue….I think….”
Neia stepped forward, on her back feet, she was standing up to assert his I mean her authority.
“It,s possessing you.”
So what do we do?
“It seemed maternal, Morgue.”
This isn,t good.
So what now?
I think it was trying to emit…a frequency…Morgue…it failed because you don,t have the equipment to do so in your body. Makes sense?
…” I,m going to put this in the rootwork, the dryad will guard it, Morgue. And you know it won,t let you get access to it. I know you need this for mental health, Morgue but it,s possessing you now and trying to release some unknown frequency, god knows where…this thing is becoming a security threat…
The only reason I,m not destroying it, Morgue because it,s a part of you…”
N3t pushed his frame out of the room, psionically controlling it. Neia stayed, and curled up around him…Morgue was already asleep, the draught had captured him in its milky throes.
A silent whisper rang in his ear….
“Sleep my child and grow strong…”
Morgue squirmed uncomfortably in his bed.
Lord Rook shot up in bed, that frequency…his beloved was still out there waiting for him.
“Beloved…it had been so long…our child and I are still alive…you,ll be displeased at his form…so displeasing to the eye…”
But the signal had been cut short, the signal scrambled by the dryad. And by the nature of the forest.
Damn it. Damn it all.
Whoever scrambled the signal was going to.