Chapter Text
She was tired, so tired. She stared out at the endless fields and forest right outside her window. Her insides felt like they were in a blender, her one good working eye was focused on something specific out on the field. It was fractals and a spiraling being made from ozone and lightning staring at her, meeting her gaze.
Don't get her wrong she was scared, well to a degree, it's gotten to an almost dull fear. She never got close but it has followed her ever since she was struck by lightning when she was 8.
It was a shame she was quite the looker in this life, dark hair and bright blue eyes her favorite combo but it was now marred by the Lichtenberg scars that went from her face down her throat all the way to her fingertips on her left arm.
It was a good thing she was right handed in her last life. She, well, HE now if we wanted to be biologically correct. He died from a lightning strike in his last life, it's almost funny, what's the saying? Whatever happened to lightning doesn't strike the same place twice.
You might've guessed it by now, struck by lightning at 8 has scars over his face and shoulders and is being hunted by a fractal being. Check, check and check, his name in this life was Michael Crew.
The beloved side character was murdered off to show how cut throat an avatar of the hunt could be and he had the luck of becoming said side character.
It wasn't all that bad at first he was a quiet child who loved both his parents dearly. Michael well he prefers Mike, in his last life had distant parents being a middle child of four kids. So having pure parental love being focused at you, due to being an only child was quite the change.
Living in a world that was at mercy to eldritch fear gods and their avatars was pretty shit though. Even if he didn't die from that lightning strike he now had an eldritch distortion being following him for the rest of time. The only good he could see was if he did manage to find what was it, Ex Altiora he could fight back against other avatars but be at the mercy of feeding that god else it feeds on him.
Mikes glaring now at the figure, it's approaching the school. ‘I guess it's time to leave’. He raises his hand. His English teacher Mrs. Morgan, his maths teacher, gives him a pitying smile mid lecture and just gestures at the door with a nod.
Mike doesn't have to be here and the teachers know it. He was a senior with only a month left till he graduates, and in his last life he was a software engineer and as a result just happened to be good at school. Not to mention he's diagnosed with schizophrenia so his doctor gave him a note to leave class when he ‘hallucinates’. He was really racking up the pity points with them.
He headed out, usually he’d head to the nurses offices to get a note to leave but the being looked fast today so he was headed straight out the building. Maybe he'll actually try the bookstores in London today.
When he first arrived in this life it was a shock you know the usual. ‘Oh my god heaven isn't real?!?!’ and the ‘Why would you forsake me to go through school and puberty again!’. For a time he was depressed. The first maybe five years were full of limited talking and with his head in a book. But after seeing his parents get more and more worried and sad he just couldn't do it anymore and decided to try and live his life the best he could. Your childhood is supposed to be the best time of your life right?
Look where that got him though, he traced the scars on his throat. After a quick trip out one day with a friend he got struck by lightning AFTER he tried convincing his friend to go inside. It didn't click that he was THE Michael Crew from the TMA universe.
He often thought about what would have happened if he just left his friend out to play by himself that day. Would Dominic be in his shoes? Would Dominic have died? Would anyone be cursed?
Finally out of the school Mike headed down to the train station. He lived in Canterbury. It would take about an hour by train and should put a good distance between him and it.
Honestly out of all the places to be reincarnated in this was probably the bottom of the barrel. This world was headed towards an apocalypse of fear and yeah the person he reincarnated as was murder before he even got there. Maybe that one good thing to look forward to is that he might not have to worry about it if he dies beforehand.
Not only that but just fearing one thing too much could put you in an eldritch beings sight. Not only that but you just have to be lucky to not run into one of them. There are so many statements in the archives: hundreds of people affected by fears running wild and avatars feasting and gorging themselves on people and now he was headed towards that life. He would have to live at the expense of probably hundreds just so he wouldn't feed the being that's following him.
He'd be the first one to admit it. He's selfish. He would rather live than succumb to a being of the spiral and have himself twisted and distorted to something no one could even fathom. That was a life worse than hell and he would do anything to avoid it, And if that meant feeding an eldritch god that's a price he's willing to make.
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This bookstore was no different from the others he's been to; a second hand bookstore that probably got most its revenue from selling old weathered textbooks and antiques. He loved places like this. Although he had a lifelong love for computers there was nothing better than just the smell of old books. The hard backs of all shapes and sizes were stacked neatly from floor to ceiling, the store was so quiet you could hear a page turn from anywhere in the building. The store clerk was in the back leaving him to search in peace.
It was almost an eerie quiet, the would be sounds of a busy London on a Thursday afternoon was nowhere to be found. There was a heavy feeling here though, the feeling animals get when they sensed danger was near. The feeling he got when the spiral being was close. There was one here, he knew it, he just had to find it.
It was around noon now on a Thursday so the shop was slow. It had maybe two other customers lurking in the back as he flipped through the books. One seemed to be looking at children's books near the front and the other not too far from the place he was headed.
Mike found himself in the back rummaging through the old bins full of the raggedy old resell books. It was repetitive, opening the covers looking for the plate, running his fingers over their cracked spines, and putting them back in disappointment.
He tried not to let it get to him. Ex Altoria wasn't supposed to be easy to find after all, he didn't think the original Mike found it until he was well into adulthood.
Sighing, he sets down maybe the third copy of crime and punishment he's found when he starts to hear mumbling. The man in the front, he looked like a typical Englishman kinda chubby with red hair fading into grey with clothes fit for the cold.
However it wasn't the man that caught his eye it was the book he was holding. On the cover it read ‘ The Alphabet of God’ by John C. Angiuli. Usually he would pay it no mind but then the man started speaking louder.
"B is for the Bible, a very good book. / Remember to read it lots, or God will put you on a hook."
The man's eyes were wide with fear and his fingers were trembling as he went to turn the page. He was reading from the book.
Mike looked at the person next to him.
The other stranger; a teen wearing a ragged band t-shirt and ripped jeans looked at him as well meeting each other's gaze.
"D is for the Disciples, like Judas and James. / Judas stabbed Jesus in the back, and faced Hell's eternal flames!" The man was getting louder now. The lights flickered and dimmed, the wide windows showing the street from outside now looked like night.
There was a creeping feeling of ice cold fear on the back of his neck as goosebumps erupted on his arms.
‘ That is not a normal book. ’
"G is for Grace, what you seek from God. / If you get on his bad side, you'll never wish you had." The man was now yelling, his skin was paling rapidly like the children's book was sucking the life out of him. The noise drew the store clerk out from the back.
“Sir? Are you okay, I'm gonna need you to quiet down.” She looked to be college age with bright blond hair and typical formal librarian get up. She seemed scared. Mike could see her look outside in confusion at the night sky.
‘ Alright, that man is reading a Leitner and he needs to stop now before any of us die. ’
Mike approached hands up “Alright sir I'm gonna take that book from you.” He could see the relief in the store clerk's eyes as someone came to help her.
“I don't think it's doing you any g– .” He watched in almost comical astonishment as the other teen had absolutely launched himself at the man tackling him to the ground. It looked like a staged MMA maneuver with how he flung his body at him.
Despite the other teen's best efforts however, the man continued reading from his position on the floor. He wasn't even looking at the book now but somehow knowing the words, as the other teen did his best to grab the book.
"I is for Israel, the place and the Holy Land. / We must take it back or God will hang us by our hands." His voice seemed to echo now with what sounded like other people speaking with him. All had different tones and inflections.
His goosebumps erupted once more when he heard an utterly guttural scream come from the store clerk. Mike looked over to see her grasping her face and a look of rage was drawn on her face. She joined the scuffle on the floor but instead of restraining the man she was deranged, fists flying and pulling at the two on the floor. She seemed to have unnatural strength as she pushed and grabbed at the two on the floor.
‘AH Shit, the Slaughter?’
The MMA teen looked up to him wrestling with the older man and dodging fists. “GRab the book, someone grab it!”
‘ Yep yep right the book. ’
Mike, now jumping into the fray. He did his best to help, as he grabbed the man. He was the one to wrestle with the man as he grappled the man's arms to restrain him. The other teen was now getting hit in the side by the store clerk.
"M is for Messiah, the one that's come and gone. / Accept that ours is Jesus, or God will make sure we're done." The man was screaming now, all the voices were yelling as well as the store clerk.
Mike finally got a grasp on the book, pulling it close to his chest as he bolted out the store with it hidden underneath his sweater. His clothes were torn and a little bloody from scratches along his face but he managed.
The streets were empty, it was pitch black out and the only sore of light were the few street lamps in the distance.
‘I definitely do NOT want to align myself with the slaughter.’ He thought as he looked at the book, anxiously searching his pockets for the lighter he brought.
He fumbled with the book, he really needed a quick way to destroy it before the other teen was pummeled. But just as he thought that, that same teen busted out of the store with a lighter in hand but was quickly followed by the rage fueled victims.
“Take it, destroy it!” Mike slammed the book on the other teen's chest as it was now his turn to hold off the other two while the other teen deals with the book.
Mikes not gonna lie it hurt as he slammed into the two full force almost knocking them down. He almost wished he used more force because they were clawing at him now. Doing his best to hold them back resulted in long scratch marks on his arms and back.
He was grabbing anywhere he could get a grip and pulling at clothes and limbs as he also tried his best to trip them. In his last life he had siblings and it was paying off right now. He was sweating with exertion and although he had a good grasp on the man, the store clerk was slipping through his fingers.
And it wasn't a moment too soon as he could finally smell it. It wasn't the normal smell of a burnt book, it smelled like a car just backfired. Petrol and smoke was prevalent and left his nostrils feeling like they were burning up inside.
The two possessed people gasped in unison and started screaming. In a blink of an eye the once empty streets were now filled and the sky showed it was still midday.
There was now a crowd of people surrounding us, staring at us. Huffing in relief as the two victims of the book were now down for the count. It didn't take long before the crowd parted and Mike spotted a few people coming forward to the two now on the ground.
Looking back at the teen he saw the dreaded book now on the side walk steadily burning and almost gone. The other teen was now pocketing his lighter and looking around in increasing worry.
Looking like he was about to leave, Mike quickly grabbed his hand and booked it.
They tore down the street, Mike's heart pounding as they ducked past pedestrians and ignored the confused yells behind them.
He did not want to get caught up in the law and with the book gone more than likely the two collapsed victims would be fine. It was just bumps and bruises…probably. Still, if there were cameras, someone was going to get footage of the other teen tackling an innocent man in the middle of a bookstore like it was the finals of the MMA championship.
Finally finding an alley next to a convenience store some distance away; they collapse on the wall, lungs heaving and sides burning. Adrenaline draining into a restless shake in their hands.
He wasn't sure who started laughing but it quickly resulted in both of them bursting into hysterical laughter.
Mike wiped a tear from his cheek, grinning like an idiot. “Holy shit, man. That was insane! You should’ve seen yourself, full-on linebacker launch!”
“ME! When that guy started yelling you looked like you were gonna piss your pants!” The other boy was clutching his stomach in pain from laughing.
Mike had a creeping suspicion at this point.
“How'd you know what to do with the book anyway? I thought I'd be on my own against 3 other people?” Mike responded.
The laughing slowed down now, wiping a tear from his eye. “ It's not my first rodeo, I was there looking for a book like that.”
Mike gave a hard blink then grinned “Ehh? me too!”
The suspicion was ramping up now. “By the way I never did introduce myself did I? I’m Michael but you can call me Mike. Can I have the privilege of having my fellow book hunters name now?”
Mike could see the other teen get slightly tense at the question, but he then let out a long sigh and slumped against the grimy brick wall “I'm Gerard Keay, uh you can call me Gerry if you want though.” He gave an awkward smile.
Ah that's why he was so familiar. This was just a little teen Gerard Keay without the tattoos and it looks like is sorta in the goth ascetics, what are the chances.
“It's nice to meet you Gerry; you and I are gonna be great friends.”
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Mike knows he should be used to it, afterall for a good portion of his life he has been haunted by a being made of fractals, lightning, and spirals. But for the first time in his new life he found someone who knew about the supernatural.
He honestly never thought of getting close to the TMA cast. He knew that his counterpart died due to Jon seeking him out after investigating statements relating to him. So, like a rational person he never planned on getting close but after meeting Gerry, he felt weird.
He's spent so long now keeping people at a distance because he didn't want to drag them into the supernatural, when he inevitably either becomes an avatar or dies. But with Gerry who was already neck deep in it he didn't have to feel that guilt. There was a sense of comradery or companionship that had developed after facing off a Leitner like that.
He was… actually a little excited. Ever since he was reborn in this world his emotions kind of felt dull so this was a refreshing change.
Mike knows he shouldn't get his hopes up, after all if he had this encounter maybe this same thing happened to the original Mike and they never became friends. But a little voice inside was hoping for it, for friends, companionship, for anything really.
Mike really wanted to be friends but he also didn't want to die from canon. So, right here and right now he had to make a decision.
He was at a crossroads. One path leads down him never interacting with canon and maybe even moving to America, in order to completely avoid canon all together. He’d probably live out his days quietly in some city haunting the streets. Maybe he'd be happy. Maybe he'd never find someone who understands, and he'd live out his days being hopelessly alone.
On the other path is where he goes and he takes canon by the horns and he fucks shit up, with danger around every corner and having to make life and deaths decisions often. But on this route he could actually have friends who would understand.
So with a smile on his face Mike wrote down his number on the back of an old Tesco's receipt handing it over to Gerry and smiling like he didn't just sign away his soul.