The Watchman, or the Story of Talking Literature
Apr 1, 2019 3:51:17 GMT
Post by humansoulengineer on Apr 1, 2019 3:51:17 GMT
Hey y'all, this is my story for March's rock the block. It's about a """book""" that promises incredible power. The characters and setting are from my story The Skull That Bears Seeds, which takes place in the same world as All Suns Must Set. This is extremely not canon.
The Watchman, or the Story of Talking Literature
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Thomas suspected the boss knew about whom he truly worked for in his time away from the bar, but neither were foolish enough to ask the other about it. That was another aspect of being noticed, but not remembered: keep quiet. No chit-chat with the patrons, minimal chit-chat with coworkers. The other workers rotated in an out of employment enough that none of them got the chance to figure out what was up with him and he was good enough at his job not to have the boss ask questions.
And he was good. He had the last aspect: toughness. Thomas didn’t have youth on his side anymore or even impressive muscles, but a stern glare from someone his size sent people packing. Even without Gumshoos at his side, mimicking his quiet strength, Thomas rarely saw aggressive drunkards these nights. Everyone in the street looked the same as ever: a lot of casual clothing, people walking around with their buddies, pretty normal for a Thursday night in the part of town bordering on classy.
Thomas’ eyes focused on the one abnormality. A young man, in casual clothes, but not the sort found in this part of town, strolled down the street with a near empty satchel slung over his shoulder. The very mild dragging of the feet implied he’d been walking around all day, distributing what looked like pamphlets, though it could be any sort of paper, really.
“Shoos, notice him?”
Gumshoos eyed the man Thomas pointed out with his chin. Thomas couldn’t get a read on the guy, and neither could Gumshoos, who made an ambiguous grunt. Most of the people who came into this part of town to canvas for whatever cause usually had wilder hair and all the people who came to proselytize about Victini dressed in freshly pressed suits, but this guy had neither. Honestly, he just looked like a loser. Only one of the handful of people on the street he approached even accepted a pamphlet, and its final destination was the trashcan at the end of the street.
A young couple approaching the bar syphoned his attention. He could tell they were Unovans even before checking their IDs. He shooed them inside. In that brief lapse in attention, the man canvasing the streets with paper writings disappeared. Gumshoos seemed to have missed it, too, which only confounded Thomas more. People like that were a rarity in these parts.
A firm hand on his shoulder snapped Thomas out of his thoughts.
“Guess what time it is? That’s right, it’s ten,” Joseph spouted out before Thomas could answer.
“Already?”
“Yep, I’ll cover things for the rest of the night, if you’d like.” Joseph was obligated to fill this shift regardless, but he was just the sort of guy who’d say this.
“Sounds good. Let’s go, Gumshoos.”
The duo walked inside The Bloated Sawsbuck, still filled with silhouettes obscured by low lights and cigarette smoke. The cacophony of overlapping conversations only made it harder to stay aware. His boss stood behind the bar, attentively watching one of the new bar hands ring up a tab. Thomas slinked into the backroom, where a couple of other bar tenders were putting on their coats and shoving their belongings back in their pockets. Thomas punched out before either of them really noticed and slipped back into the bar room.
“Heading out for the night, Thomas?” He’d been spotted the moment he entered. His boss had barely moved, but his eyes glared right at Thomas.
“Shift’s over,” admitted Thomas.
“Don’t let your Gumshoos in next time. Pokémon aren’t allowed in here.” Thomas had actually bothered to read the employee handbook. He knew enough about procedure to know that Gumshoos watching his back here was more important.
“Won’t happen again.” Thomas snapped the conversation off at the end and ambled out, Gumshoos in tow.
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One of the benefits of standing outside all night was that Thomas could keep his Bicycle locked up right in his field of view. He’d taught both of his Pokemon how to solve the combination locks that chained the whole thing to the bike rack. Tonight was Gumshoos’ night to practice while Thomas reflected on the day. For once, Vice Admin Yamashita didn’t monopolize the precious minutes between his two commitments. The Masalada Thomas had for dinner on the way to the bar was all the sweeter knowing that Yamashita couldn’t complain about organizing and training the new Skull grunts (something out of Thomas’ jurisdiction anyway).
Gumshoos took but a fraction of a minute to free the bike, which Thomas walked over to the curious trashcan he’d seen before. No sight of the fellow from before, but it’d be trival to guess his allegiance from whatever writings he carried.
You...Man…Full of…Worries
Thomas switched into alert mode upon hearing a strange sound. Gumshoos clearly hadn’t heard it, casting a worried glace at his partner.
At a second look, the pamphlet in the garbage seemed to be playing tricks on his mind, like one of those optical illusion posters that were all the rage decades ago. The longer he stared, the more it felt like his brain was deflating in his skull.
The whole thing skeeved him out. Haunted things were outside his expertise, but he knew when it was time to delegate a task to a dark-type. He hastily released Meowth from his Pokéball.
“That paper’s sending chills up my spine. Go and get it for me.”
Meowth pounced on the paper on command, returning it with a damp dental imprint on the side.
Curious man, let me educate you.
Thomas felt his brain phase out of existence as he stared at the nebulous object in his hand. Meowth and Gumshoos both gave their companion worried stares.
“By The Guardian, I need some rest.” Thomas shoved the offending article into his pants pocket and shook the whole thing off.
Have you considered why you are in the lowly position that you currently have?
Thomas really hoped that this thing wasn’t compromising his sanity as he felt these thoughts intrude. Curse his vigilance for picking up the object and curse his curse his curiosity for not just destroying the thing outright. Living a short bike ride away was a small blessing.
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Malignant forces, Alolan, have swindled you. What you have is but a drop in the ocean compared to what you should have.
The voices didn’t stop and they were probably from the Pamphlet Thomas guessed.
You need only seize what is yours. It was taken by blood and by blood, it must be taken back.
As he quietly unlocked the door to his house, Thomas hoped that the potentially haunted pamphlet’s ranting about political violence wouldn’t wake up the rest of the family. He already kept them at arm’s length when it came to discussing his Team Skull involvement; he didn’t need to saddle his folks with dark powers beyond his imagination or whatever was plaguing his mind. The rambling continued as Thomas neatly placed his boots near the entrance among all the other shoes of varying sizes. In the common room, his sister-in-law left a plate of rice and assorted greens wrapped in plastic with a small note. “Here are some leftovers from dinner. –Edith”
Maybe later. What little appetite he had would take a back seat for now.
The sudden turning on of the ceiling lights drew Thomas’ attention. Edith, in her pajamas, entered with Daisy right behind her. He prayed neither of them could hear the voice.
“Oh, it’s just you, Thomas. I was wondering what that noise was,” said Edith.
“It’s just me.”
“Hey, Uncle Tom,” acknowledged Daisy on her way to the kitchen.
“Hey, Daisy,” he replied, mimicking her tween-ish nonchalance.
“How was work?” asked Edith.
Sacrifices must be made. This is the price of power.
“It was the same as usual. And you?”
“Mom handled the kids all night since I didn’t get off shift until a few hours ago. I just whipped up some dinner before collapsing in bed,” lamented Edith. “I left some food for you, by the way. Make sure to eat the greens this time.”
Look at the squalor around you. There are better things in store for you.
“Of course.” He would not.
“I need to hit the hay. I’ve got an early morning,” said Edith. “And so do you, Daisy! What are you doing up at this hour?”
“Just getting some water, mooom,” replied Daisy, who took notice of Thomas’ find from work. “What’s that, Uncle Tom?”
“Oh, this? It’s--” Thomas had no idea what the pamphlet said. Every time he looked at it, he felt like someone punctured his brain. “It’s just something I got a work. Some guy was handing them out in the street. You know how pushy they can be.”
“Mmhmm. Goodnight, Uncle Tom.”
“Goodnight,” he replied, Daisy already out of sight.
Once Daisy was also out of earshot, Edith pried a little deeper. “Just some guy handing stuff out, huh? So what is actually? Something ‘work’ related?”
“Something like that. You can take a read if you’d like,” said Thomas, putting the slightly creased literature in front of her.
“I’ll pass,” said Edith as she gently pushed the pamphlet out of her face. “I know better than read stuff you find in the street. You should, too.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Anyway, I’m up later than I should be. Don’t spend the whole night reading that. We all need our sleep.”
All power stems from killing others. You must take the first step.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
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Gumshoos and Meowth ravenously devoured their dinners, wedged in a nook between Thomas’ bed and the corner. Only a meter or so away, Thomas sat at his desk writing down a few observations on a small lined sticky-note pad. “Blurry vision”, “telepathy”, and “argues for violence” all came to mind immediately, followed by “compromising my mental health”.
The family’s one cordless phone sat atop a pile of reports yet to be filed in their appropriate binders. Thomas examined the smudges and fingerprints that’d accumulated after only a year’s worth of use as he contemplated making a call. He checked the time on his analog alarm clock: just a hair past eleven.
Some say that the path forward is a forbidden one. They only want it for themselves.
Thomas didn’t even bother to look as he punched in the digits. After and few rings, Thomas heard a groggy, familiar voice on the other side.
“Uuuh, hello? Do you even know what time it is?”
“Oh, Eliza? It’s Thomas. Sorry to bother you. Is Kate there?”
“Yeah, just wait a sec…Honey, it’s Thomas…Just take the phone…”
“Thomas, what’s going on?” He could hear the restrained annoyance in Kate’s speech, not that he could expect anything less.
“It’s something important. When I was returning home from work, I saw a pamphlet from this suspicious man that had been dumped in the garbage. I went to retrieve it and it started messing with my brain, like I’ve constantly been hearing voices from this pamphlet. It’s too eerie for my liking.”
Kate took a half-second to comprehend the statement. “I swear, Thomas, I must still be half asleep. Did you say you’ve found a haunted pamphlet?”
“I didn’t say it’s haunted. Only that it’s creepy and making me hear shit.”
The truth of this word is darkness and brutality. You must remember this.
“Oh, only that?” Kate couldn’t be tired with that tone.
“Look, it’s weirding me out. I’ve been hearing things about blood sacrifices and dark powers all night and I don’t want that in my life. I’ve got enough troubles as it is.”
“Blood and power, huh?” Kate let the words linger in the air. “I don’t have much experience with the supernatural. Have you shown it to anyone else?”
“Edith and Daisy saw it, but they didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Same with my Pokémon,” recounted Thomas. “So far, it seems like I’m the only one affected by it.”
“Maybe you should sleep on it? ‘Water cleans the body, sleep cleans the mind’, after all,” suggested Kate. “You have been pretty busy lately.”
“Even if this thing did shut up for the night, I don’t think sleep would help. Fatigue doesn’t hit me like this. I’d discard this thing if I could, but it’s safest to keep it to myself for now.”
“You think it’s that bad?”
You know your life up to now is a lie. I just want to open your eyes.
“My instincts say it’s worse. If something happens, don’t be surprised if I call later.”
“Dedicated to ruining my sleep tonight, too, huh Thomas?” snarked Kate. “I’ll bring this up with Nishikawa tomorrow. You focus on getting some sleep, Captain. That’s an order.”
“Understood, Vice Admin. Have a pleasant night.”
Thomas let down his hand after the electronic click. Meowth was asleep in his bed, Gumshoos curled up in his, but with one eye open.
Heed my words, Alolan. Let me tell you of your position in life. There is so much more to know.
For the first time in quite a while, Thomas pulled earplugs out of his nightstand. If the night was not quiet, he would make it so himself.
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“What.”
No one in the meeting room really knew what else to say. When Kate rolled into Admin Nishikawa’s office and let her know about the mysterious pamphlet, she thought her trusted second-in-command had lost her marbles. Nishikawa visibly cringed a little having to see Vice Admin’s Zhou and Yamashita’s first time reactions, too.
Being head of internal security usually let Thomas bypass rank, but today he clearly understood that he was only “Captain Kau’ila” and not “Vice Admin Kau’ila”. Today, he felt small and weak, and not just from the lack of sleep. He knew the preposterousness of the pamphlet would bring out the worst reactions.
The offending article sat in the center of the conference table, resting on top of some crumbs from lunch. Everyone’s eyes bore into it.
“I have no fucking clue why we’re meeting,” said Yamashita, clearly trying to determine whom he was most irked by. “It’s a pamphlet. This should have been dealt with several pay grades down.”
“Have a little more faith in the Captain, Yamashita,” countered Kate, reclining in her wheelchair with arms crossed. “You should know that he wouldn’t bring something to our attention if it were frivolous. If I recall, you authorized his position, like the rest of us.”
“You know, Vice Admin Jang is right. It sounds stupid, but maybe we should trust Kau’ila’s warning,” added Zhou. “The thing gives me the heebie-jeebies. Maybe the words just speak to him, like on a personal level. You know how powerful words are, right Admin Nishikawa?”
“Words don’t just leap off the page from afar, Zhou,” Nishikawa casually reminded him. “If anything, I’m more worried about this stranger freely walking around in our territory spreading ideological filth. If there’s something literally supernatural about it, that just further compounds our problems.”
Who is this woman to judge on what is filth? You know her to be a propagandist.
“I can’t really see what’s written on the paper itself,” admitted Thomas, feeling smaller than ever, “but it speaks to me very clearly. It’s a dangerous piece of paper that’s obviously being spread to undermine our local influence.”
“I’d say that sort of thing warrants our attention,” chimed in Kate. “A pamphlet with powers of persuasion is a powerful tool.”
“Well, assuming that this is even real,” Yamashita shot an unamused glance at Thomas, “we should report it to Central and let them handle it. Our R&D facilities are out in Po Town, so I see no reason to keep it here. If it’s nothing, that’s their problem and if it’s something, then we all benefit.”
“Pfff, assuming it even gets there,” interrupted Zhou. “Letting it rot in Plumeria’s dungeon? Now that’s a real waste.”
“So what’s your take then, Vice Admin?” Nishikawa chose to ignore Zhou’s snarking this time.
“Oh, Nishikawa, I’m glad you asked,” said Zhou, laying it on a thick. “We should use it for ourselves, of course. Captain Kau’ila said it’s trying to tell us the secret to power. We’re the only ones who know about it, and we need the power. Why not give it a try?”
You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.
“It’s telling us to sacrifice people for power. We shouldn’t listen to it. It’s obviously evil,” retorted Yamashita, before realizing the implications of his words. “Fuck, it’s not even telling us anything. It’s paper! Now you all have me in on this shit.”
“Maybe the one who makes casualty projections for every little thing we do shouldn’t be complaining about necessary sacrifices, hmmm?” Thomas really wished Zhou would stop goading on Yamashita for once.
“I make estimates because I care what happens to my men! I’m not the one leaping at the opportunity to exchange people for power because they heard a piece of paper whisper in their ear!” yelled Yamashita. “This charade has--”
“Both of you just shut up for a moment!” said Nishikawa, silencing the room. The head honcho of Hau’oli’s Team Skull branch pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment before speaking.
“Clearly, you all can’t be trusted to have a civil conversation.” Nishikawa’s body language indicated precisely whom “you all” referred to. “Kau’ila, I don’t know what’s going on with you. No one else knows either. But you seem dead set on the idea that this thing could be dangerous.”
Everyone else in here can smell your weakness. One false move and you will have a knife in your back.
“Yeah. I, ummm, I think it’s…,” spoke Thomas as best he could, “There’s something powerful about it.”
“Listen, you obviously understand it more intimately than any of us. If it needs to be destroyed, destroy it. If we can use it, use it.” Nishikawa returned to a professional tone, but Thomas could tell how much it masked her annoyance. He hoped none of it was directed at him. “Just come back tomorrow with a decision. Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good, meeting’s over. All of you, get outta here.”
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Thomas had failed. He was no closer to deciding how to handle the pamphlet than before and now every one of his superiors thought he’d gone mad. He was a fool with only the balmy weather to comfort him.
Others will betray you for their own benefit. It is only natural that they only look out for themselves.
“Oh, shut it!” Now even Thomas himself didn’t how sane he was. Yelling at bound paper was unbecoming for the Chief Security Officer of Team Skull’s Hau’oli branch.
“You weren’t kidding, were you?” Nishkawa emerged from the entrance of the brick and mortar building that held their office. On a hot day like today, her usual attire of Team-Skull-colored military fatigues and steel-toed boots seemed even more out of place.
“Admin Nishikawa.” Thomas barely had the energy to salute her.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be tearing yourself up about this, Captain,” said Nishikawa. “You’ve acted with professionalism and good judgment the whole time. Whatever’s affecting you clearly hasn’t dulled your edge.”
Your successes stem from your vigilance. Those whom you would call your allies, they are the closest to your weak points.
“I’d...I’d like to think that,” Thomas weakly admitted.
Nishikawa gripped Thomas’ shoulder and looked him straight on.
“Listen to me, Thomas. You’re the best we’ve got, alright?” Hearing his first name stunned him a little. Theirs wasn’t really that sort of relationship.
“Alright?” she emphasized with her pointer finger in his face.
Her honeyed words are trying to lead you astray. She is opening you up for the kill.
“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas still a little thrown off, his shoulder feeling a tightening grip.
“I chose you, we chose you because we trust your judgment.” Nishikawa’s overwhelming presence belied her reassuring words. “If you think this…thing…is worth pursuing, we’ll pursue it. If it’s trash, we’ll throw it out and forget it. Just go home, take a moment to breathe, assess the situation like you always have, and report back in the morning.”
Admin Nishikawa was too soft on someone as clearly compromised as Thomas was. He knew her niceness would get someone killed someday. But now, he was too relieved to care.
“You know you can’t just have internal security be compromised just for my sake, right?” asked Thomas, hoping she wouldn’t say yes.
“Our organization may be a little sloppy, but we can afford to have you take a vacation for once.” Nishikawa was almost good at gentle ribbing. “Now go home, already. It’s good biking weather today.”
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There was something equally peaceful and off-putting about being home alone in the middle of the day. The mornings were hectic and wild and the nights were exhausting, but noon brought a clarity that made Thomas want to knock more things off his to-do list.
But today, he wouldn’t be working, at least not in the usual sense. Orders are orders, and if the boss says enjoy being alone at home when everyone else is working, then he must oblige.
Thomas pulled the leftovers from the fridge and fished a deck of cards out from one of the kitchen drawers. The box was shot to hell and back, but not four adults and four children could ruin these playing cards. Thomas effortlessly arranged a game of solitaire as he listened to the Pamphlet speak.
While you relax, others are scheming against you, seeking your downfall.
His hands shot back and forth across the table, lifting and dropping cards according to number and suit. Months had passed since Thomas had the time to play a few rounds, and yet his movement remained as precise as it always had been. The rows of cards whittled down until he ran out of legal moves.
You have very few options in life, but there is an obvious path forwards.
Thomas scooped up the cards and re-dealt them. New rows, new chances. The low numbers were on top this time; the first handful of moves were so obvious as to be trivial. But with each revealed new card came another dead end. Twenty moves in, Thomas conceded to his imaginary opponent and scooped up the cards again.
You cannot trust anyone at work. You barely know them. They will rat you out to the boss, who will turn you in to the police.
The voice of the pamphlet soothed him as he thoroughly shuffled the cards. His hands moved on autopilot while his brain worked at full-power, listening to the argument of the imaginary voice.
Team Skull is a hive of degenerates and backstabbers. Your bosses feel threatened by your special position. Trust them and you will end up buried.
Of course, Thomas knew the dangers of working for Team Skull in security. He spent every day suspicious of his fell members. Nationally, Team Skull was known for its internal turmoil. And yet…
You care about your people, but who really are they? Are your family your people? They live with you and yet you cannot trust them with your secrets.
Thomas paused his shuffling to take a bite of rice from the plate. It was true that he kept secrets from everyone, especially his family. But knowing details about his work would only endanger them. He did this to take care of them, just as they made him food to take care of him.
Continuing on this path will lead only to stagnation. Showing weakness will lead to your downfall. But there is a path forward.
He dealt cards a third time. Bad numbers on top. He took another bite of rice before playing the whole thing out, anyway. As the cards were scooped up for a third time, Thomas waited for the Pamphlet’s ultimate point.
You see people like yourself in opulent mansions. You know why they are there. They sacrificed others for their own gain. You have people you can sacrifice too.
He’d seen those sort of people on the television. Every day when the family would huddle together in the family room to watch soaps, dramas, the news, those people were the stars. And once in a while, he’d even see one that looked just like him. Thomas once considered that obvious path that would get him a bigger tv room and bigger couches for it and all the other markings of a high life.
Every one of your bosses is someone you can turn in. Imagine the reward you would get for such a thing. Every society has people who do that. Why not you?
He knew it. His suspicions were correct. This piece of paper marketing itself as literature was just like every other traitorous get-rich-quick scheme. There was nothing good that could come from these sorts of thoughts.
He sadly chuckled to himself as he laid out the cards for a fourth time. Admin Nishikawa claimed Thomas was sharp, but clearly, his instincts were dulling if he’d wasted this much time on something so base. Thomas rearranged the cards at lightning speed. Once again, his efforts were for naught. An out of place card left the game in an impossible state. At least he had his skill; his luck must have dried up.
Thomas clutched the pamphlet in both hands and pulled with all his might. It teared into two sloppy chunks.
“Fuck you.” Thomas swore with his indoor voice. The kids might be back home soon, after all.
“Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.” Thomas spoke every time he ripped the paper into smaller pieces. It tried to deceive him. It degraded his credibility. It wasted his time.
Thomas was a little sore from turning the pamphlet into confetti. In his little moment of rage, half of the paper ended up strewn across the floor. He diligently swept it up with a broom, dumped it in the trash, and took out the trash just to be sure.
Thomas had a little epiphany as he returned to finish his leftovers. He probably wasn’t the only one who’d gotten one of these. There’s at least a handful of people who must have read these. He hastily scooped up the cards and shoveled down his food. He had a phone call to make.
