Trash: Chapter 159 Flowering Weeds (Patreon)

Chapter 159

Flowering Weeds

It is hard to say exactly what happens to you in death. As I have never experienced the process myself, that or if I did, I don’t remember the process fully, I can only imagine its effect on the psyche of an individual based on what I have seen thus far.

Death is by all accounts horrific. Why people would choose to remain, even after such an intense backlash, is beyond me. That said, a few things do happen, at least for spirits. For spirits, they all begin as an almost identical copy of their mortal shell, minus any final wounds that caused their inevitable deaths. They all start out as this, but the older they get, the more they begin to morph and mutate to fit either their needs for how they want to grow and survive in their new state, or how they see themselves becoming better versions of themselves. This is to say that from my limited experience with ghosts, they go one of two ways.

The first, and likely most common path that a ghost will evolve is to go for the ethereally beautiful path. These are the jilted lovers, the partners that were found lacking in life and therefore replaceable. Often these are the spirits that go for the revenge in death method, where they become so perfect in the eyes of the loved one who killed them, that whoever comes after will never be able to replace them. This state often ends in the death of the person who orchestrated their deaths. Often the other lover, that is the replacement partner dies first, followed by the actual lover. Only then do these spirits move on, without assistance. Sometimes though, sometimes killing those involved is not enough, as they begin targeting every unfaithful partner, luring anyone in a committed relationship astray and killing them at their weakest moments.  These are the ones I refer to as a dark rose, a flower that looks beautiful on the surface, but is poisonous underneath.

After the jilted lovers, there is the second and far more prevalent type of ghost, the unfulfilled. These are the ghosts who died while either feeling that they were close to a personal breakthrough, or had a goal that was left unfulfilled. These are the ghosts that are most likely to chance into odd and unusual shapes if given time, as they will inevitably focus more on functionality than on aesthetics. My mind goes through these two classifications that I had previously noted, to highlight the fact that this body is still young and that I have not seen nearly enough of this world as I would like to.

While most people would likely be stopped by the impending cold and darkness that coated the downstairs laboratory that I was now in, and it was a laboratory. A hidden laboratory at that, one with a secret trap door that has now been left open, as the spirit either achieved their goal, or found that concealing their presence was no longer an option. In either case, I could now see that if given enough time, ghosts could take on a third form. A hybrid of the two if you will, as this creature clearly seemed to have let herself go at first, but was now going more for the ethereally beautiful path as well.

Only now did one fact that I had glanced over previously seem to make sense. The fact that up until this point, all the spirits that I have faced have been masculine. This fact is further heightened by the fact that while I faced six relatively weaker spirits above, there are no less than two more males that are the shape and size of the ox I just fought in the lunch line. The one who was trying to exert some form of authority over my team members. While that one might have been large, compared to the two hulking brutes before me, he was relatively scrawny by comparison.

Most people seeing the two thuggish brutes, both of whom had giant black veins coursing through their bodies that seemed to amplify their strength in ways that steroids never could, I do notice a weakness. Namely, there is a delay in their perception, as their eyes are glazed over and dull. Instead, their bodies are being controlled by the master spirit behind, the new hybrid spirit that is already forging and reshaping new tentacles to replace the ones I damaged from above.

Arcing and pulsing veins of corruption cover the walls, allowing for easy control over the environment. This isn’t just a spirit lair, it is their sanctuary. Suddenly the open trap door makes more sense, as this spirit has stood here for so long that they now feel invulnerable. To their defense, it looks like any groups that do come down here either die or get converted to mindlessly follow the hybrid in the back. A being who looks ethereally beautiful, if you could of course get around the pulsing tentacles that have bound her like a flowering weed to the wall. She is pretty, but that sickly fake pretty that one instinctively knows is too pretty to be real. The photoshop version that has all major blemishes taken away and left with an overly idealized image.

My mind having taking instant clarity of the room I am in, begins to act automatically. Even as the flowering weed on the wall notices me, thereby causing the brutes to begin to turn and face me as a threat, I am already moving.

Charging my blade with my bloodline Skill Soul Devour, I press forward hacking and thrusting in controlled ways that allow my blade to angle and arc their way through the seemingly cramped room. All while my body instinctively actives all my combat related Skills, coating my body in a glowing green mist of mana that instantly draws the attention of all three monsters in this laboratory. Seeing the momentary pause of recognition filling the spirit’s faces, I make my move. I slash, my blade cutting into something that feels like cutting more into a plant than a human. There is a thick crunchy outer layer, clearly hardened by years of alterations made by the vengeful spirit, followed by an vast juicy center that my blade easily tears its way through. Unlike normal swords with a blade, the jagged stone structure of my sword seems to have the ultimate effect of allowing physical force to be the main emphasis of each strike.

There is something else at work, as my body that has been strengthened greatly by my class and multitude of active Skills, is able to grab and move the first hulking brute of a spirit right in the path of is partner. Taking what could be a two-on-one fight down to a one-on-one fight, as the restrictive vines covering the floors and walls make this a bit easier to accomplish. Now with just the one, I drag, zip, and slash my blade free. Using the quick wrist flicking techniques that Mr. Yi taught me.

“Never let your blade being stuck be a reason for your failure, instead realize that you can do even greater damage with it stuck if you use your leverage effectively.” Mr. Yi’s words and guidance come back to me, honed after many hours of my blade being grabbed and held for just such a reason. The twisting and flicking motions are easy, as it is just my body and mind focusing on the path to take. There is clear resistance everywhere the dark pulsing veins seem to be, but that makes the task easier as I just avoid the veins. Carving a jagged path that I would normally avoid in a living creature, afraid that bones or other objects would hinder my path. However with ghosts, everything you learned about combat is shifted, there are no bones to worry about, and instead it is just the thick outer shell that needs to be of concern.

There is of course, a second issue that my mind is also tracking. While I do have to focus on the brutes before me, I can feel the floor shifting and pulsing to life beneath each step. A sign that the wall flower is tracking my foot placements and likely setting up a secondary attack from under my feet. Fortunately, my footwork is impeccable, as I go for the flutter step approach to fighting. By moving my feet so much, I would normally lose my leverage in my attacks, yet I use my footwork to aid in my slashes. The monster grabs my blade with both hands, but that does little to stop me, when my whole point is to cut and carve the beast. Also, it is clear that the beast, despite its lurking size is not stronger than me. All of this is to say that my attacks are both lethal and unexpected. My feet move left, I use that shift in direction to give my blade leverage as I thrust up to the right. My feet flutter forward, I impale the beast harder as I carve a jagged line through its unguarded torso. On I move, step, and balance, then before I even realize it, the dense shell that had been acting as an anchor for the vengeful spirit finally cracks open fully, the pulsing veins no longer enough to keep the beast’s body together. With a drop of my body and upward thrust, the blade lunges free, as the spirit that had been holding onto my blade a moment ago let go, its arms stretched to the sky. Then I can almost see the moment that clarity comes back to the beast.

There is a look of realization, as the glazed look of obedience gets ripped away from the creature, and suddenly I can see the dark hue of rational and cognitive spirit eyes looking upwards and around. For a moment, a look of shock fills its face as it clearly tries to understand where it is, and how it got here. Then there is a burst of energy as the spirit that had been contained inside the psychic shell is released, causing the outer husk to wither and fall, leaving me with my second hulking brute to face.

“One down, one to go,” mutter to myself as I prepare to take on the second hulking brute.