Host of Sheets (shyan)

Chp 8. Walls

Shane hadn't gone too far, though he had taken a trickier route just in case Ryan had decided to spy on him. It didn't really matter if Ryan witnessed, but Shane kinda didn't want him to anyway, a small bead of shame hard in his gut at the thought.

He made his way through the rows of desks, slow and steady, humming to himself to steady his nerves until he stopped at a smaller desk. It was shoved to the side by itself, up against one of the support beams; the beam was decorated with drawings and colorful printouts. One of them was a little sign that said, "Hi! I'm the Spring Intern, Mariah! Please say hi! <3 <3 <3"

Mariah was sitting there with headphones on, dancing a little in her seat as she worked on editing some clips- for Tasty, maybe? There was food onscreen, anyway.

He gave her a warm smile, tapping on the edge of her desk to get her attention, and she startled.

"Sorry! Sorry, Mr. Madej, I was doing edits and didn't hear you!"

"No last names here, Mariah!" He said cheerily, "You know the rules."

"Ah- sorry. Shane. Shane, what can I do for you?" She gave him a cheery smile and he gestured her over, "Follow me! I have got a very, very important mission."

She hopped her feet and he led her down the hallways, past the conference rooms and storage supplies, into the deepest, very middle of the building. He'd measured. There wasn't anything all that exciting there, just an old conference room that'd been dressed up for the Ladylike shoot and then mostly forgotten. But now, there was something there. Shane had built it himself. An altar, and something else- something with black threads and silvery edges, dripping like it was wet, the edges spiderwebbing out fine as mist to curl around the walls of the room. It was huge now, the size of a person.

He leaned against the doorframe before Mariah could see it, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her a smile.

"You've been a great intern, Mariah. Doing very well, anybody told you that yet?"

She gave him a beam and started to answer, but he held up a hand.

"So, like I said, I have got a very important mission for you. Do you agree to it?"

"Is this a trap...?" She laughed, once. Ryan and Shane were pretty well known for messing with their interns.

"Might be," he said cheerily. "Do you agree to it?"

"Fine, I'm game."

"Good!" He reached out to trace a sigil on her forehead. Her eyes rolled up immediately, and he was pleased despite himself. Not even a struggle- he was more powerful than he used to be. Perhaps it was the time spent in exile, or maybe it was the dual energy in this skinny frame- but no matter.

"With your will in my hands, you give yourself to the heart of the mountain." He said softly. She didn't respond. But the sigil on her forehead began to glow. He studied it for a moment, before reaching out both hands to shove.

She stumbled backwards, right into the odd, glimmering tear. The heart. It lifted her off her feet, sneakers dangling, and began to spiderweb around her.

Shane watched, fascinated, as it ate her alive.

She didn't struggle at all, head dropping back as silver spiderwebs turned black, crawling through the air, swallowing the walls. Shane took a step back as the office began to disappear, the walls roiling with veins bleeding black and spiraling down the halls. Stone and blood and soul.

The heart of the mountain lived again.

"Don't forget your prophet." He said to the heart, laying a hand on it. It was warm, pulsating gently under his fingertips. It didn't answer- of course, it never did.

_______________________

Ryan was at his desk desperately googling exorcisms and the history of this 'Everett Almstead'. There wasn't much to go on, not yet- he found a death certificate, one of the men that died in the mining accident, looked like. Survived by his wife, Aurora Bell "Rory" Almstead, no children. The name still sounded familiar though, he'd seen it before. Seen it and...heard it, maybe? He tapped on his phone to look at the recording file he'd made at the motel. Shane had been saying a lot of things that night, and Ryan felt weird listening to the whole thing, like he was invading Shane's privacy, so he hadn't. But maybe it was time to, make a transcript, compare and contrast. At least that was his plan, until the ceiling lights flickered and went out. His computer shut down.

There were a row of windows to his left, so it wasn't completely dark. But still- odd.

He pulled off his headphones, looking around curiously. A few people were as confused as he was, Eugene making eye contact and shrugging. But the others, though- they stared straight ahead, and then stood, desk chairs scraping back. In unison, they stood without a word.

Ryan furrowed his brows.

He heard something coming from the conference bays, snapping to his feet as soon as he saw it, silvery blue black threads weaving from the walls. They swallowed the plain white plaster whole in a pulsating mass.

Then, en masse, his coworkers and friends walked towards it.

He gaped as they fell by the dozens, hands grasping for that roiling darkness, the threads wrapping around them and pulling them in. They didn't seem to mind, expressions blank. Justin, Evan, Ashly, Quinta, one by one by one-

Eugene screamed- Ryan had never heard that from him before, the taller man scrambling out of his chair, running down the halls and out of sight as the threads whipped over their desks, devouring them.

Ryan, though- he was distracted by the skinny, unmistakeable frame of Shane, coming down the hall, surrounded by the darkness that writhed around him.

"Shane!"

"I told you to run, Ryan." Shane said softly, and Ryan barely heard it over the gristly noises of the walls coming down around him.

He ran.