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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...
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Chapter Seventy Two: A convergence II...
Greg could feel his expression contort into a grimace at the foul smell that came from the cave. His teacher stood to his right and Olivia to his left. Greg only cast a quick glance at the suited figure of Slenderman, the fictional horror figure from his previous life, standing on the other side of the familiar. This was the latest image from his memories that the being who tried to take him over had become fascinated with. Towering over them at almost nine feet in height, other than the maw with far too many sharp teeth that it called a mouth, its head was a smooth surface with no visible features. From its bald head to its complete lack of eyes, nose, and ears, it was an unsettling figure to look at. However, it was this featurelessness that made the act of waving its hand before its head as if trying to ward off a bad smell all the more comical.
The smell coming from the cave wasn't just of decay. In a way that Greg couldn't comprehend, it seemed to transcend simple rot and touch upon the very essence of corruption itself. Greg wasn't even sure how he knew what the true essence of corruption smelled like but that's the only thing that came to mind even as he fought the urge to puke. After his teacher had pointed out that his late uncle was their best lead in finding the site of the convergence, Greg's first thought had been the frustrating realization that they might have sabotaged their best lead. They had, after all, wiped the memories of his cousin of anything that involved his uncle and the magic he'd mysteriously obtained. It, however, hadn't taken a lot of thinking past that for Greg to remember his uncle's secret cave lair.
Much like his teacher, his uncle had either carved out or found a secret cave from which he'd been operating. Greg had planned to take this cave for himself and make it his lair for when he needed to do things away from the eyes of the townspeople. With his daily schedule learning under the healer, however, months had gone by without him coming back to it and eventually it had slipped from his mind. Unfortunately, the cave itself wasn't all that he had forgotten as the stench that almost felt physical was reminding him. After killing the last dark crawler, Olivia removed all of its viscera and buried it in a pit. The hard shell of the beast, however, had been left inside the cave to allow any viscera that might still be clinging to it to rot and fall off leaving behind the shell only. How such a putrid smell could last for the several months that had passed since he left the cave, Greg couldn't even begin to understand. He, however, found himself thinking that the abyssal realm was one that he'd probably never want to visit.
There was some murmuring to his right and three bubbles of clean air appeared around the head of his teacher, his own, and that of Olivia. Greg turned to his teacher with a grateful look on his face and this mercy. "You'd be shocked by the kinds of smells you get exposed to as a healer," She replied to his silent gratitude. "Especially when you have dealt with as many plagues as I have. I've encountered smells that left me unable to eat for a few cycles. A way of dealing with foul smells is not optional if you wish to last in this profession," She said. While her tone sounded casual, Greg could recognize when his teacher was offering him useful advice and so he took her words seriously.
The three of them, plus the imitation of Slenderman, walked into the cave, although the latter had to crawl on all fours owing to how tall he was. Apart from the massive black carapace of the Dark Crawlers, there wasn't much different about the admittedly empty cave. The scrying pool was off to one side of the cave and the rest was just open space. Greg could see that their plan had largely worked as there was no viscera still clinging to the black carapace. What they hadn't foreseen, however, was what the rotted flesh was doing to the ground around it. Rather than drying up over time, the pool of black sludge around the carapace seemed to be eating up the ground around it and turning into more of the sludge. Greg couldn't help but turn to his teacher to see if she would make anything of this.
In truth, the cave had been a long shot. While Greg knew that his uncle had been operating from this place, he hadn't been sure that they'd be able to find anything significant or useful after so many months. Greg himself had been inside it once and yet he hadn't seen anything that would suggest that two worlds were colliding. In the end, it was just a cave, a conveniently hidden space that one could use for clandestine operations, should they so wish. Much as he hoped for more, a significant part of him feared that this simple reasoning was what had compelled his uncle to use it as his lair all those months ago. Even what was happening with the carapace, while odd and somewhat disturbing, was something that had taken place after the fact. His uncle had been dead and the staff he found confiscated by the time Greg left the carapace of the dark crawler inside this cave.