Team Snek [Chapter 7]

[Raegan (DELETED 9663)]

If the key in her hand held any magical properties, she didn’t feel it. There was no sudden tingle in her skin, and her veins didn’t begin to burn. She didn’t have a vision, and there was no booming, ominous voice in her mind. If this key did anything, it simply unlocked a door, and from the odd edges, she wondered if it could even do that. Not wanting to count the rusted metal out before it had even had a chance to show its purpose, she curled her fingers until they formed a fist, her palm securing the small object from slipping free and becoming lost once more amongst the dust and bone.

Barely batting a lash when Charlie sauntered past, she used that same fist to wipe against her brow, removing what appeared to be a thin layer of decayed skin. Something told her it hadn’t peeled from the bones of the enemy they had just defeated, so it had to come from… no. Even she had her limits, and thinking about what could and probably did die down here wasn’t something she wanted to do. Instead, she chose to focus on Charlie’s back, her eyes narrowing as she watched the beam of light soar across the stone ceiling. She didn’t know the woman, not as well as she knew Jesse, or Clover. So, she didn’t notice the irritation, or the wonder and confusion in her eyes. To her, Charlie just looked… bored.

It wasn’t until Jesse stepped forward, drawn as if a moth to the flame to the strange writing on the wall, that she realized there was something there. It took her all of three steps to make it to her sire’s side, and soon, she was tilting her own head back to drink in the symbols. To her, they were nothing more than drawings, though, magnificent in their own right. Dropping her bag to the floor, she pulled out a small notebook and a colored pen, and began to sketch. It didn’t take her long to have each one scattered across a white sheet of paper, the purple and blue lines perfectly drawn. She had no idea why she had drawn them – or what she would do with them – but with a snap, she closed the notebook, tucked the pen in her wild hair, and dropped the book back into her small tote.

“And, who the **** is Cobb?” For all of her teachings, for everything she had picked up since being turned, that name wasn’t one that she knew well. Had she missed it, somehow? It wouldn’t surprise her that she might have tuned it out, but with the interest in Jesse’s voice, the spark in her eyes, she wondered if maybe they just hadn’t gotten that far yet. They had bigger concerns – her insatiable hunger, for one – but now, now seemed to be the perfect time for her to learn. When Jesse crouched, she moved to his back, her brow arched as she peered over his shoulder. It didn’t take him long to reveal a lock, and it was if she could feel the heat from the key – the key, she admittedly, had forgotten about until he began to dig through rock and debris.

“What else would I do with it? Bang it against a rock?” Shaking her head with a dry laugh, she dropped into a crouch and ran her fingers along the small opening. It wasn’t like a lock she had ever witnessed – and she had been held captive behind a lot of them – but something told her it would work. The key she held, with its strange edges and odd shape, would slide in as if it belonged. Carefully bringing the key between her fingers, she quickly inserted it within the lock, and listened as the mechanism gave a soft click when she turned it. “I’m giving you the honors of actually opening the door, since we don’t know what kind of demonic mutation is behind here,” she muttered as she straightened and stepped back, giving him access to the door.

[Charlie]

Cobb, he’d said. It was a name that had featured in conversation once or twice, no more. Presumably, the uttered symbols spelled out the name, unless there was something else about the etched string of fae jargon that jogged her sire’s mind. Raegan’s question only partially matched up with her own curiosity. It wasn’t so much who Cobb was, but rather, why his name was scorched into the framework of this place.

Charlie stepped to the side when Jesse needled at the trail of symbols with his blade. She cast a glance towards the Raegan and Clover, cautiously scanning the darkness behind them before returning her attention to the wall. Though the allurist kept her gaze on what he was doing, her attention shifted to the long stretch of darkness yet uncovered. She had no interest in an ambush, but neither was she willing to miss the unearthing of what turned out to be a lock.

Taking another step back, Charlie made room for Jesse and Reagan to move along the wall as the key was brought into play. The doorway was a discovery that’d captured her attention as much as the symbols overhead, but it wouldn’t help anyone if they all tumbled like dominos. The space was small, cramped even, as they stood there. Then again, staying close had its advantages.

“Stay low wen ye open the door, or get oot the way afore I shoot through ye,” she cautioned, squaring her shoulders as her gaze shifted onto Jesse. Her grip on the flashlight faltered as she cradled the assault rifle higher to her chest, ready to shoot at whatever was behind the door.

“If she’s right and there’s somethin waitin, I’m no gon wae.”

[Jesse Fforde]

Jesse might have rolled his eyes at the women and their concern for whatever may be laying in wait behind the door—there was an equal chance that there would be nothing waiting. He didn’t roll his eyes because to do so would visually belittle their fear, and as arrogant as he might be, the days of showing it were past. Well, at least he didn’t show it as much as he used to.

The door itself was at first hard to shift, and Jesse had to push his weight into it, using his shoulder, force bunching in his thighs and feet pushed firmly to the ground. Once it budged, the stone swung easily and, doing as he was told he kept to the side and ducked low as he swung the beam of his torchlight into the revealed space.

The air that was released was musty and old; there was no airflow within, which meant that the items inside were perfectly preserved. It would have been perfect conditions for a mummification. Alas, they did not find any mummies, nor anything else for that matter. There was a ritual altar and a few chests which, Jesse presumed, must hold ritual items. His gaze drifted again to the roof, taking note of the symbols there. He’d make sure Reagan had them all written down before they left.

”Cobb was…is one of the elders. I guess no one’s heard from him or seen him since the rift was opened, but he was the one who did it. Right? We’re all here because of Cobb. I’ve been trying to find him or anything about his research for months. Whatever he did… I want to know whatever he did so that it might be replicated somewhere else, maybe. The more rifts, the wider they are, the harder vampires will be to ever permanently slaughter. And travel would be safer…” he said. He was already toeing at some of the chests, crouching down to rifle through them. There was some notebooks which he’d want to take with him. Some of the loot might also be helpful.

But there was no key.

”This place… it’s a rabbit warren. There are probably rooms like this all over. And… passageways. Monsters,” he said, gaze bouncing between the women. ”We don’t have to keep going. I’d kind of like to take this stuff with us. We could get it out, maybe come back,” he said vaguely, waiting for them to decide.

[Charlie]

That was anticlimactic, Charlie thought to herself, lowering the weapon. There was nothing behind the door to shoot at, leaving her itching for a need to pull the trigger. The spider she felt creeping up her spinal cord didn’t shift, and she felt cheated of the much needed distraction.

Huffing, she swung the assault rifle to her side and walked towards the ritual altar. Her hand came away from it covered in dust and ash. Her brow furrowed, but she made no comment. It was possible it was something other than what she believed it to be. The allurist wouldn’t bet her jacks and queens on it though. No, she steered away from the altar before it got any ideas as to whom should be sacrificed next.

Crouching by dusty chest, she rifled through it and scowled at the bones. While bartender hadn’t exactly been her end goal in life, neither had archaeology. Dusting the bone to better see its markings, her mind harkened back to another set of remains. Enchanted, the shop clerk had told her. Charlie’d thought nothing of it at the time, but neither was she familiar with rituals back then.

Getting out of here sounded like a great plan. If there was nothing to shoot at, then she was happiest being elsewhere. Not that the discomfort would keep her away long; her curiosity was too strong. If anything, she’d return alone and not suffer the conversation. Maybe she could drag Marisol with her, a kindred spirit, a necessary reassurance.

“Aye,” she responded, shifting through the treasure chest. If she returned, she would trade the bandoliers and sword for a backpack and compact magazines. It would take more than one trip to get all of this back, but her eidetic memory might serve in retracing their steps. Not that she was keen on becoming a mule.

“I’ll take these,” she announced, tapping one of the leather bound journals against the edge of the chest. The dust fell away, revealing cracked gold in the form of an unfamiliar symbol. Setting it across her lap, she did the same with every other bound object, loading up as much as she could while still reaching for the tome Jesse’d given her.

Stripped of her accent, the following words she uttered distorted her surroundings. Limbo revealed itself to be empty as she all but collapsed, every object in her grip dislodged.

“****”

You teleport to your bound location.