The Chain

I picked up my phone and started making calls. First was Estren.
“Sup?” he asked me.
“Hey,” I said. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I have this piece of chain, and I was hoping you could help me identify it,” I said.
“Seriously?” HELLFIRE asked, taking over. “That's why you're calling?”
“It's not normal,” I said. “It's made of some kind of gold mixed with red, and it gives me this weird feeling.”
“So what?” HELLFIRE asked.
“So, figuring out what it is might help me find someone I'm looking for.”
“Go to hell,” HELLFIRE said. “Maybe they'd have an answer there.”
Then he hung up. No help there...
I called up David Kallaway next. Asked the same question.
“I dunno,” he said. “Sound like a piece of jewelry to me. You sure it's special?”
“I'm not sure,” I said. “There's something about it I can't put my finger on.”
“Well, I'm afraid I can't help,” he replied. “Sorry.”
“It's fine,” I said.
We hung up, and I tried calling the Black Crow. I got a lot of people's numbers off of Daniel's old phone. He didn't answer, so I just left a message asking him to call me back. I called up Daniel and Kyle too, but they didn't know anything about the chain either, and Abdalin wouldn't say anything. I'm not sure if he didn't know, or was just hiding what he did know. I tried Isaac next.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Hey,” I said.
“Tony!” He said. “What can I do you for”
“You're a smart guy,” I said. “I was hoping you could help me with something.”
“K,” he said.
I described the chain to him.
“Hmm... I dunno,” he said. “Maybe the chain that bound Prometheus?”
“I don't think so,” I said. “Even gods couldn't break those chains, and this one I've got has definitely seen some damage.”
“Maybe the ones used on Fenrir?” he suggested. “Or some other significant mythical prisoner? I dunno. I've always been better with science and math than history.”
“Right,” I said. “Think it might be connected to a Fear, or maybe another layer of reality?”
“The Brute, maybe?” he said. “Fetters of Ferratis and all that jazz?”
“Idon't think so,” I said. “The Brute's the Fear of war and a creator of conflict. I'd think something connected to it would be... a bit more violent, I guess.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Well, when I hold these chains, I don't really feel anger or anything,” I said. “I kind of feel... peace, I guess. Doesn't seem like something Brute related to me.”
“Good point,” he said. “Hold on, let me ask around.”
He started talking with the runners he helps about the chains, and if they might know anything. After maybe twenty minutes, he put someone else on.
“Um, you're Tony Helioson, right?” Said the voice of a young boy, maybe 8 or 9 years old.
“Yeah,” I said. “What's your name?”
“It's Gray Nicholas,” he said.
“Do you know something about the chains?” I asked.
“I found one like it before Isaac picked me up,” Gray said.
I sat up.
“You did?” I asked. “Where?”
“It was in Hearmein Kentucky,” he said. “Underneath a table in a McDonalds. I picked it up because I thought it looked cool. I like it. It makes me happy when I hold it.”
No doubt about it. These were the same type of chains.
“Did you see anything else near the chain?” I asked. “Anything unusual?”
“I don't remember,” he said. “But there was some graffiti on the table.”
Some of the Fears had their own symbols. It was a shot in the dark, but I decided to asked.
“Were there any unusual symbols there?” I asked.
“There was one,” he said. “It was hard to make out though. Kind of like a big A. I can't describe it really.”
I sighed.
“Well, thanks kid,” I said. “It's something to go on, at least.”
“Um, you're a detective, right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“And you find people?” he asked.
“I try to,” I said.
“Do you think you could find my mommy?” he asked.
Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it! Why do frightened children always hit my weak points!?
“I can try,” I said. Damn kid sounded too sad and scared to say no too. “Can you give me a description?”
I put the phone on speaker so I could jot down what he said about her. Blonde hair, just past her shoulders, baby blue eyes, slightly overweight, liked to wear green and red. I'm a little surprised a kid could give a description like that, but I'd bet Isaac used his telepathy to jog the kid's memory or something.
“And where's the last place you saw her?” I asked.
“It was in Hearmein, a couple weeks before I found the chain,” he said. “She left for work and never came home.”
“Where does she work there?” I asked.
“At the Sam's Club,” he said.
Damn. I need to get a membership if I wanna investigate properly...
“I'll see what I can do,” I said. “One last question. What is it you're running from?”
He was silent for a while. I heard Isaac say something, maybe giving some kind of encouragement. Then, after a little while, the kid spoke.
“A bunch of people,” he said.
“Can you tell me anything about them?” I asked.
“They're really creepy,” he said. “They talk weird, like their all the same person. And they're always wet.”
Crapbaskets.
“Do they call themselves anything?” I asked.
“They said they're the Camper,” he said.
EAT. The Fear of obsession. A being that possesses people who ingest its water-like ink. They gradually become part of its hyper intelligent hivemind, the Camper. It's fond of evolution, and is constantly trying to improve upon humanity through its servant.
“I'll do what I can,” I promised, before he handed the phone back to Isaac.
“You're really gonna look into it?” he asked.
“I have to go to Tennessee soon anyway,” I said. “It's nearby.
“Be careful,” Isaac said. “For all we know, his mother could already be-”
“Don't,” I said, silencing him. “I get the picture. But it's still worth checking out.”
“You be careful,” he said.
“You too,” I replied.
We hung up. I still had some time before Keursio came over. I slumped back in my chair and began fiddling with the bit of chain. I sighed. I couldn't think of anyone else to call. I tried to relax a bit. I put up my feet, but I lost my balance and the chair almost fell over. I steadied myself, and in doing so, I managed to knock the phone over. It hit the ground with a loud noise. I sighed, and picked it up. I put it up to my ear to hear the dial tone and make sure it still worked. The annoying sound of the tone filled my ears.
My eyes widened.
Annoying sound.
I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out my phone book. I shuffled through it, and found a number I had written down, but never had any intention of ever calling. Now seemed like the time to.
I punched in the numbers and waited for the response. It came. A voice answered.
“Who isssssssssss thissssss?” it hissed, drawing out the S sound way to much. It was really raspy, like Gollum with a throat cold.
“Hi, Jerome Welric,” I said. “This is Tony Helioson.”
“Oh, it'ssssss you...,” he rasped.
Jerome Welric, better known as Sound, is a servant of the Slender Man. He's also a mutant bat person, with wings and claws and shit. He weilds an arsenal of dangerous, sound based weapons. He's the one Daniel got his Sonic Sword from. And as a Slenderproxy, he's not the kind of person I would normally try and get help from. But who else could I ask right now?
“I need to know if you can help me identify something,” I said.
Once more, I described the chain. He let out a weary sigh from the other side.
“Sssssssssssssssstop wassssting my time,” he said, and hung up.
I slammed the receiver down, ticked. Jerk...
It rang a few seconds later. I picked it up.
“Who's this?” I asked.
“My name is-,” said a female voice on the other end, but I cut her off.
“Myrir Serena,” I said.
She was an ex-Archivist, and a current Slenderproxy. She also used to be Benjamin Malkator's mentor, and lover. She's the reason Ben's son, Little Isaac, exists.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I heard what you said to Jerome,” she said. “I have a word of advice I'm willing to trade to you.”
“What do you want for it?” I asked.
“Daniel Ferris's new phone number.”
“Call me back in five minutes,” I said. “I'll tell you if we have a deal then.”
Daniel had gotten a new phone over his year long absence from the blogosphere. I'm one of the few people who knows his new number. I called him up and explained the situation.
“Fuck it,” he said. “Give it to her. I don't care.”
“Alright,” I said. “I'm expecting her to call back soon. I'll talk to you later.”
“Sure thing,” he said.
She called back on schedule. I gave her the number.
“So,” I said, “What's this advice you have for me?”
“Demonology,” she said. “Look into it.”
Then she hung up. Great. Real helpful. Bitchface...
Anyway, Keursio should be here so, so I'd better go. We'll be leaving for the Panopticon base in Tennessee soon. Honestly, I think they could have picked a better State. I fuckin hate traveling...

-Tony Helioson, signing out.