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Chapter Twenty Seven: Whispers of Despair

  Pitch spent his down time relaxing and hanging out with Kathryn, but the break didn't seem to last long as early on Halloween day, not even two full weeks from the Banshee case, Pitch got a call from Ishwada. “I know I said I'd avoid bothering you unless I absolutely needed you and uhh… well I've got a case I can't quite figure out. I'm fairly sure a Cryptid is involved but it's not one from the list. We still have to handle it either way. I'll send you the address.”

  Pitch confirmed he'd be there and hung up with a sigh. “Looks like my vacation is over, Ishwada needs me on a case.” He went over and gave Kathryn a kiss. “Feel free to stay as long as you want.” He then grabbed a few things and drove to the location. It was a normal looking house in one of the residential areas not far from downtown. When he got there the place was guarded and blocked off with police tape. Pitch was escorted in by a Black Eagle soldier who led him to Ishwada. “What's the case Jiryu?”

  Ishwada let out a long sigh. “I've got no fuckin’ clue and it's starting to drive me up the wall. Resident committed suicide, shotgun toothbrush, Kurt Cobane style. Painted the ceiling. However, before he died he spent a lot of time in the house and there were several noise complaints with the victim saying some strange near schizophrenic stuff. Problem is, the guy didn't have any mental conditions prior to moving in. He just… slowly lost his shit for no reason. My instincts are telling me a Cryptid is involved but I can't find any signs of one.” Ishwada handed Pitch a folder with crime scene photos and notes including the complaints. Some of them being nine-one-one calls from the victim.

  Pitch flips through the folder, checking the information, and stops at a photocopy of the victim’s i.d. “I knew this guy, he went to Roosevelt High School. Him and some friends started a band back then. I once went to see them play. They were doing well but he looked tired. They were actually on tour or something traveling the state. That was years ago.” Ishwada nods. “We already interviewed his other band mates. Transcripts are in the file.” Pitch scanned through them.

  “Started showing signs of exhaustion years ago, followed by manic depressive episodes attributed to stress. Looks like your normal spiral of depression due to high pressure to me up till the noise complaints about him screaming. Then there's the nine-one-one call he himself made. Reads like some schizophrenia shit.” Pitch clears his throat, not that it's something he needs to do. “I hear them whispering. They're in my ears, they're in my walls.” Ishwada pointed to a wall with claw marks. “Yeah, and his band mates reported him curling into a ball, rocking back and forth, and whispering or muttering to himself at one point. Apparently the whispering and muttering was a regular thing that only got worse.”

  Pitch checked the crime scene photos. “Nothing abnormal here. Just looking at it one wouldn't think anything of the scene.” Pitch started walking through and scanning the house, looking for anything that seemed out of place. “They're all staring at you.” Pitch looked up, and couldn't help but feel the Black Eagle soldiers were staring at him, keeping their distance after what happened with the Banshee. “After all that effort to seem normal, they just see you as a monster.” Pitch sighs and does his best to focus on his task. He noticed a small hole in the bottom of the kitchen wall.

  “Does this place have a big problem or something?” Pitch asked out loud. Ishwada looked over. “The victim made several complaints about one but after several fumigations over several years and his behavior it became assumed it was part of whatever disillusion he was under.” Pitch tilted his head. “I think you meant delusion but yeah. I see signs of some sort of infestation. That or he made the holes himself.” “Look at them, armed for what looks like a suicide. They're just waiting for an excuse to shoot you down and be done with it.”

  Pitch cleared his throat and cracked his neck. “How can you pretend everything is normal after everything you've done? After everything you've become? How many people have you eaten? How many have you killed?” Pitch felt a weight on his shoulders and the lingering feelings of a Cryptid presence. “There's definitely something nearby but I can't get a lock on it.” One of the Black Eagle soldiers nods. “It feels like the entire house is a Cryptid, like it's coming from all directions. But Cryptids don't get that big.” Pitch nodded. “Does this house have a history of people living in it having manic depressive episodes or schizophrenic delusions?”

  Ishwada looked through his own copy of the folder he handed Pitch. “Previous tenant had some issues but not to this extent and the guy before that suffered from chronic insomnia.” Pitch put his hand on his chin and sat in a chair to think. “You're a threat to everyone around you. What happens if you suddenly get very hungry in a crowd? What happens if the number of people you regularly eat stops being enough and your appetite grows?” Pitch rubbed the top of his head and groaned. “You deserve to die just as much as every other monster in this world. It's not safe with monsters like you in it.”

  “You should die. You should die. You should die, you should die.”

  Pitch gripped his head with both hands and whispered to himself. “Shut up, it's not the time for this.” “You're a monster. Just as bad as the rest. You're a threat, you should be eliminated.” Pitch continued to walk around and do his best to focus on observation, noticing several small holes near the floor or in the wall and at wall and ceiling corners. He then took a closer look at the scratches made by nails on the wall but the oppressive weight Pitch was feeling kept getting worse. He could almost see a dark cloud or shadow obscuring his vision and ability to look at the markings as negative thoughts continued to echo in his mind getting louder and louder.

  Pitch began breathing heavily as he started to hear the sound of a rapid heartbeat. Gripping his head as the echoes got too loud to ignore. “Monster. Killer. Cannibal. You deserve to die. The world is safer without you in it, you're a threat to everyone around. One day you'll lose control, just another mindless beast. This mask isn't fooling everyone, they all know what you are. Stop pretending everything is fine, everything is normal. Stop pretending to be human. You know what you are. You know what you've done. And so do they. The only reason you're alive and free is because of the mercy of others that find you useful. Jiryu doesn't see you as a friend or even an equal. You're just a tool to him. Everyone is staring at you. Everyone is staring”

  “Shut up shut up shut up. Shutupshutupshutup.” Pitch shook his head as he whispered to himself. The sounds of a heartbeat became louder and more rapid as his breathing became more laboured. Practically hyperventilating despite not even having lungs or needing air. Ishwada was going through the house and directing troops to check different areas inside and outside the house when he noticed Pitch standing in front of the claw marks gripping his head with his eyes darting back and forth, looking like he was having a panic attack or something.

  Suddenly the sounds of Pitch’s rapid ragged breathing and incoherent mumbling whispers were broken by him suddenly and violently shouting. “SHUT UP!!!” His eyes suddenly widened as he looked around. “I need some air “ he then said before fast walking and almost jogging out the door. Ishwada handed his copy of the folder over to the closest soldier and followed. “I'll be right back.” Ishwada got outside to see Pitch sitting on a curb grabbing his head and rocking slightly. “You okay J-” Ishwada then realizes no one else is in earshot of them. “Are you okay Pitch?”

  Pitch looked over to Ishwada and wiped his face with his hands. “...No. I thought I was doing better after the Banshee case but here I am having a breakdown in front of everyone. They already distrust me after the Banshee case, every time I pass a soldier they take a step back and grip their weapons. Like they're just waiting for a reason to unload on me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells and like the self made mask has become like a prison and nothing more than a weight pushing me down. Jiryu, I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams. I can't be myself because the real me would scare everyone. I can't even blame them because I scare myself. I mean for fuck’s sake Jiryu, I fucking eat people. There's no redemption from that when it's a basic need. How can I stand here trying to protect the world from monsters when I'm allowed to roam free?”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Ishwada sat next to Pitch and put a hand on his shoulders. “I wish I could help you, but I have no clue what you are going through or what it's like. I can only give some general advice taken from my own experiences.” Pitch took a few breaths, the sound of a heartbeat still echoing in his ear. The whispers had died down but not stopped. Pitch then had a clear and sobering thought. “(I don't have a heart, so who's heart am I hearing?)” The different places of evidence echoed in Pitch's mind. Suddenly, everything clicked. Pitch reached slowly for his own ear and reached behind it, pulling what looked like a silkworm from behind his ear.

  Ishwada looked at it. “Is that a silkworm? I've never seen one like that. It's rather ugly.” Pitch squished the critter. “A Cryptid, the source of our problem.” Ishwada raised an eyebrow. “That one little thing drove that man to suicide?” Pitch got up and practically matched back into the building. “Clear the building and get me a fire axe. Everyone out, evacuate.” The soldiers all looked at Pitch wordlessly. Pitch raised his voice slightly. “Did you not hear me, are you deaf? I said everyone out!” Ishwada came up from behind Pitch. “You heard him, evacuate the premises.”

  The soldiers grumbled and started slowly clearing out with one audibly saying. “What, are we taking orders from a monster now?” Ishwada scolded him. “No, you take orders from me, and I trust the instincts of this person. So if he says clear the building I roll with it because I know he's got a good reason.” The last person made his exit and Ishwada handed Pitch a fire axe. Pitch then slammed the axe into the spot on the wall with the claw marks. “So what exactly are you up to?” Pitch slammed the axe into the wall three more times. “They're in the walls.”

  Pitch opened the wall to reveal a wall of silk with several silkworm looking creatures wigging on the bed of silk. Several of them, including one so far and engorged it looked more like a drug then a silkworm fell out of the hole. “My god, the building must be infested with these things.” Ishwada commented as his hand moved over his mouth. Pitch started stepping on the silkworms that fell out, crushing them easily. “Have all the men check behind their ears and I guess get ready to fumigate this place with holy water or something. Because although these things are squishy I highly doubt we can manually crush them all and it's clear normal big bombs don't work.”

  Ishwada grabbed an unsquashed silkworm and went outside the building. He led it up for display to his men. “This is what we are dealing with. The house is infested with them. Check behind your ears. From what I can gather these things feed off despair, depression, and anxiety.” Pitch then added to that. “They latch behind your ears and whisper echoes of your own self deprecating thoughts at you and project a small amount of emotional energy at their victims to feed into these emotions and get you into a spiral. Feeding back into it. It becomes more frequent and louder as it grows. Since I'm something of an empath I'm surprisingly susceptible to their influence.”

  The soldiers mutter amongst one another for a bit as Ishwada thinks of how to clear the building. “I wonder if the Black Scripture people from the Vatican would have holy water bug bombs handy.” Pitch looked at Ishwada. “...Right, I forgot there were versions of this group in other places including the one run by the church.” Ishwada nods. “Black Scripture is the oldest of the currently active Cryptid handling groups.”

  Pitch tapped his foot on the ground. “So are we just going to wait around and keep the area sealed until we can clear it out or backup arrives?” Ishwada shrugs and he calls someone on his phone. “Yeah, it's me. You wouldn't happen to have something along the lines of a holy water bug bomb would you? I've got a bunch of small fuckers nesting in a wall and don't have anything to deal with it.” Ishwada nods a few times while the other person talks. “Okay, I'll see you when you get here.”

  Pitch sighs as he heads to his vehicle. “I guess I'll just sit in the car till the Black Scripture exorcist gets here. I'd take a nap but since I need so little sleep I basically nap once or twice a month and that's it.” Ishwada groans. “Stop rubbing it in my face. I wish I required less sleep. Then I wouldn't be tired all the time.” After a while of waiting an old vehicle with wood grain on the side and a cross shaped hood ornament arrived with four people. Two male and one female.

  One of the men was an older white man with wrinkles and salt ‘n pepper hair, he had broad shoulders and was likely well fit and muscular under the papal suit. The other man was younger, probably around Pitch's age and had black hair, brown eyes, and slightly darker skin. He has a few notable tattoos on his face including three small crosses under his eyes where a gangster would put teardrops. He was also muscular and based on his posture Pitch imagined him to be one of those Hispanic gangbangers you'd see in a 90s movie.

  Of the two nuns one was an older white lady that looked exactly like what one would expect when picturing a nun. The second was younger and had made some clear modifications to her nun habit to show more leg and expose her sides. She even modified the top to create an underboob boob curtain effect but had put in a white shirt under the black top. Based on the fact she pulled at it and pouted she had been forced to do so by her superior. She had bleach blonde hair and green eyes with a mole on her chin.

  Pitch raised an eyebrow at the younger nun but didn't question it, as the older priest went to great Ishwada like an old friend. “Jiryu. It's been a while. How have you been?” The two exchanged a quick hug. “Ups and downs old friend.” he then looked at Pitch and rubbed his eyes. “This guy with you is the spitting image of a young Jack.” Ishwada nodded. “That's Jack's son, James. Well actually there's more to it but I'm not getting into that right now.” The older female nun walked her way over. “Well look who needed our help to exorcize demons. Are you finally ready to admit our group is superior? Maybe if you didn't spend so much time faffing about trying to capture them you'd do better.”

  Pitch raised an eyebrow at the older nun now. “You do realize there are Cryptids that are non-hostile, right?” The older woman crossed her arms. “Non-hostile my foot. A demon’s a demon, and that's that. If it weren't for the agreement with Black Eagle not to attack Dopples in America we'd be exercising them too.” Pitch crossed his arms. “So you're saying that you would lynch a voting citizen just for being different? Who the fuck you think you are, the Ku Klux Klan?”

  The nun turns to Pitch with anger in her eyes. “How dare you, I'll have you know-” Pitch interrupted. “Let me guess, some of your best friends are black.” The nun grumbled and huffed but before she could say something new the older priest moved over to calm her down before returning to Pitch and Ishwada. “So I know it's a bug like Cryptid but what am I dealing with exactly?”

  Pitch took a deep breath before explaining. “I'm calling the Cryptid Whispering Despair, and the building is full of them. Absolutely infested. These silkworm looking fuckers aren't physically strong or durable but what they do have is numbers and the ability to latch onto the back of your ear and whisper self deprecating thoughts the victim already has. Indicating it can potentially read thoughts to an extent. This slowly causes the victim to spiral into a worse and worse state. Eventually the voices and thoughts become too much.”

  The priest nods. “Okay, I'll see what I can do. Hector, you're with me.” Hector then spoke with an accent that Pitch was kinda expecting. “Sure thing homes, I'm right behind you.” The two went inside the building. The older nun continued to glare at Pitch while the younger one approached him. “Hey there tall, pale, and handsome~ Did you know that nuns of the Black Scripture are not required to make vows of celibacy?” Pitch blinked a few times with a blank expression. “I uhh… have a girlfriend.”

  The blond woman had an exaggerated pout. “Well I never said I was looking to be your girlfriend. I'd be as confidential as a confessional.” Pitch looked over at Ishwada. “There are literally two other people in earshot including the old nun.” The younger nun looked at the old nun who was scowling at her. “A lack of a vow of celibacy is no excuse for your sluttery. You're not a Succubus, so stop acting like it.” The younger nun crossed her arms and pouted, then she addressed Pitch again. “I'm Anastasia, the grumpy old bat is Jeanette.”

  Ishwada butted into the conversation. “The older priest is Father Franklin Falcone, he served with me and your father in the military. His exorcist in training is relatively new. Hector is something of a rescue from what I've been told.” Pitch nodded. “I got that from the amount of cholo energy the guy gave off. Dude's a walking stereotype turned priest.” The group waited several hours before the two men came back out. “Consider the area fumigated, Jiryu.” Ishwada gave the priest a firm handshake. “Thanks for the assistance, Frank. We'll have to catch up sometime and have a drink.”

  After sharing the form handshake the two separated. Pitch looked at the house. “I'm going to do a once over, just to be sure. They can't detect Cryptids like I can.” Ishwada nodded and Pitch walked through the entire building with some measure of hesitation. Once he was fully confident that the building was cleared he finally made his way back to his jeep. “I'm going home to snuggle my girlfriend.” He waved goodbye to Ishwada before heading home to end his stressful day.

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