Staying Low Key
Orion Lancaster sat on the damp, straw-filled bed, the chill from the stone floor seeping through his dirty pants and torn, grimy white shirt. The air was heavy with the stench of mold and grime that clung to the walls, and he shivered slightly, lost in his thoughts.
“It’s been four days, I believe since I came here,” he mused aloud, the monotony of the dark cell blurring the passage of time.
Across the cell, a woman with fiery red hair lay sleeping on a cleaner bed. Her dress was pristine white, a stark contrast to the filthy surroundings and her creamy skin seemed to glow in the dim light. Her eyes, when she opened them, revealed their reptilian nature as she yawned and stretched languidly.
“Morning, Jormungand,” Orion greeted with a weary smile. She yawned again, her eyes locking onto his, and then she moved to sit beside him, nestling against his side.
“Is everything okay, Loptr?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Yeah, Jo Jo, everything is fine,” he replied.
“Jo Jo?” she asked, tilting her head.
“It’s a nickname,” he explained. “I want to keep your true name a secret from others.”
She looked a bit sad. “Is it because you’re ashamed of me?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to make you a target like me.”
Her expression softened, understanding dawning. “I understand,” she said, a small fang peeking out as she smiled. It was cute, he thought.
Orion’s mind drifted to the night before, when he had been on death’s door in a hospital bed. The cancer had spread to his liver, kidneys, spine, and a lung. The doctors gave him a 25 percent chance to live the same life after surgery, but zero percent to live without it. He had received so many gifts from students and colleagues, and he still couldn’t believe he was in this world. He wondered if he was still under anesthesia or if he had died.
He knew that soon a guard would walk through the door to escort them away. Just as in the book, the guard was shocked to find Jo there. Only he knew her true identity as the World Snake. She was his pet, Loki’s pet. The memories of this body were scattered, but it seemed Loki was being punished for something. He had escaped using some form of forbidden Old One spell. His punishment was to be nullified and voided.
The memories hurt as Orion tried to think back. The forms of the Old Ones, even the idea of them, hurt his mind. But it didn’t matter. Loki had escaped, someone had helped him, but Orion couldn’t remember who. It wasn’t in the diary. The diary had little about Loki and his life, but plenty on the others.
------------------(MOOD SETTING OVER The Rest of this Story will switch between First Person and Third Person Omni Present depending on the Chapter. The Main Char However will always be First person for Immersion Purposes.)-------------------
The other Old Ones—ancient, primordial beings. I recall the diary’s events. Loki, having fallen from grace, was punished with venom dripping into his eyes. His wife tried to shield him but often failed. They performed a forbidden ritual to escape. If this world is real, all religions indeed sprang from these primordial beings. These shapes, not things, faded in memory. This body I inhabit is strange. Looking down at Jo cuddled against me and then at my younger body, I couldn’t be more than 18 or 19, 20 at best.
The diary never mentioned the age of Loki’s final vessel, only that the weakened Old One was discovered before the war of Atlantis and killed with his pet snake. Loki was hated and often punished for his trickster nature, especially by the Aesir pantheon. The pantheons of love, however, didn’t mind his tricks if they were harmless and didn’t participate in his null and voiding. The oldest Old Ones, the trinity shapes, didn’t participate either. They haven’t been seen since they gave creation over to its vices, whatever that meant. Rumor has it, that they have revealed themselves to a small group off in the Middle East. I regret not making it to their chapter, they may have been a haven to hide out.
Hours passed, and Jo shifted into her snake form, a small 14-foot-long, 2-inch-wide creature. She rested on my shoulder, and I found it cute. Despite never liking snakes in my past life, I had come to appreciate Jo. Loki’s entire issue was that despite his power, he could never escape his nature.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside—explosions and destruction. This confirmed my suspicions. I should have died earlier, but that was only because Loki drew attention to himself trying to escape this prison while weakened. I waited, but Heimdallr never showed, meaning three days had passed. This world can be changed; it differs from the diary. But this raid happened on the third day after Loki’s death. Does that mean I’m the only wildcard now?
My emotions churned, a storm of fear and confusion. I thought about my life with cancer, the constant battle, the hopelessness. Could that truly be over? Was this another world, or had I somehow traveled to the past or future?
And what of my wife? Or Loki’s wife, Sigyn? Was she still around?
Thinking about her brought a sharp pain to my chest, as if my heart was being squeezed by an invisible hand. Everything hurt—my body, my mind, my soul—as the commotion outside grew louder and closer.
A massive man entered, towering over everyone with an imposing presence. He had a thick, white mustache that curled upward, reminiscent of a crescent moon, and a broad, muscular build. His bare chest revealed countless scars, testament to countless battles. He wore a long, red coat adorned with gold epaulettes, dark pants, and heavy black boots. His deep, resonant voice boomed through the chaos as he spoke.
“Any person not held for violent crimes, release them from their cells. Buddha,” he declared, his voice carrying authority and a hint of kindness.
I was released along with several others. I had been held in this jail because it was believed I was delirious. I recalled causing a panic in the city when I awakened in the middle of the forest. My first day here had been chaotic, but I was just happy things had started to make sense, especially after Jo found me.
In the diary, Loki’s pet snake had been sent to rescue him, but she lost her powers in her fall. Jo wasn’t an Old One, more like an Old One-begotten monster. She didn’t recall how she lost her powers, but I theorized another Old One or monster might be responsible.
As I was set free, we were all lined up outside by the pirates, both men and women, who were plundering the village but causing minimal chaos and destruction where it wasn’t needed.
“We are the Baskervilles. My hounds and pups sail these seas, and any stray willing to join this old dog is welcome, as long as you agree to our terms. We are all one family. Do not harm your family. No killing, but fighting and scrapping are allowed. You fly under my flag, my rules: do not kill unless provoked. We are pirates, not murderers. Killing is a last resort. Scruff them up, and most of all, the captain’s orders are final. When I give an order, you follow.”
Many of the freed prisoners screamed in excitement and ran toward the old man, eager to join. Even I felt the urge to join, but a screaming woman caught my attention.
“PERVERT!” she accused, pointing at me. I was shocked. Wait, what? Pervert? Loki wasn’t a pervert, or maybe just a little, but I hadn’t done anything of the sort. Then it hit me. Loki had been thrown in jail the night I arrived for indecent exposure. I remembered now—I was naked, or at least Loki was naked. Damn it, it was all coming back. I had burst into someone’s home in the middle of dinner. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Damn it, another thing I changed from the diary.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the angry old man glaring at me. “Pervert, you say?”
I tried to defend myself. “It’s not what you think, really. See, I was lost, and I, um, um…” I stuttered in fear, staring down the imposing figure.
“Is there something wrong, Master?” a voice said. I turned around and noticed Jo was no longer around my neck but had reverted to her human form. Her beautiful red hair, serpentine eyes that briefly flashed before becoming human blue, and her shirt dress left little to the imagination. Her small fang hung out, adding to her charm.
Everyone saw how submissive she was around me and further screamed, “Pervert! He’s keeping a slave.” This seemed to enrage the old man even more.
“You know I hate slavers almost as much as I hate the false kings of this world,” he said, stomping forward, each step causing a small tremor.
I gulped, realizing just how deep a hole I had fallen into.…
