Work Text:
Paul’s life was a little different than what people would expect upon getting to know him. He seemed so average, like you could pick him and someone else off the street and they’d have the exact same life story. Average Joe, average apartment, average job, average Paul. That’s why it was such a surprise to his girlfriend, Emma, when he started talking about his family.
“Wait, sorry, what the fuck do you mean you’re related to Linda Monroe?”
“I wouldn't really even go as far to say related. I mean we technically are but I literally never see or really even think about her. We didn’t grow up together or anything, we just share a dad, who I also never see.” Paul shrugged, seeming nonchalant about the whole thing.
“Oh, no no, go back you can’t just get away with dropping that!” Emma backtracked, almost laughing at the surprise. “Your dad is Roman Murray? I thought your last name was Matthews.”
“It is, I took my mom’s last name. I grew up with her and her alone. We lived comfortably enough because Roman made big enough child support payments so at least I can give him that. I didn’t even know he was my father until I got old enough and started looking just a bit too much like him that people started to notice. I probably didn’t meet him until I was like… 12? 13 maybe? Going to his house for the first time was weird, he tried to treat me like a son while I was there but I could tell I was very much not welcome by everyone else in the house, especially Linda, she did not like having to share the attention for just once in her life.”
“So you’re literally a bastard, huh?” Emma playfully jabbed at him.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Dude, you didn’t tell me your dad was fucking loaded. Do you realize how fast a track that could have put you when we first met? You could have just dropped a 100 in my tip jar and saved a few months.”
“Oh no. I barely even have a relationship with him. He keeps trying to form something with me but he only started trying after I was 18. I don’t want to take anything from him, especially his money.”
“Doesn’t he own CCRP though? So you kind of are taking his money.”
“I only found that out after I accepted the job offer. Also I work in the technical department and no one knows we’re related so I’m separate enough to not get special treatment.”
“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, I’d love to get special treatment.” Emma commented, Paul raised a brow at her. “Oh come on man, I’m kidding! It’s okay, I get it. I had a hard relationship with my parents too, you know.” Paul hummed in acknowledgement and put an arm around her. “But seriously you need to get at least a little close to him so we can get good in his will.” They laughed.
--
“Oh, come on now son! It's a tradition in the church!” Roman’s voice came out of the phone Paul had pressed against his ear. He was calling like he did every year to try to get Paul to come to a ritual held at his church. Something about the importance of father and son. “You’ve already turned down the invitation 15 years in a row, at least come once. I won’t pressure you again next year, I promise.”
“Yeah, I don’t know,” Paul hesitated. While he liked the idea of getting Roman to stop next year, he still thought it was really weird. “I’m just not really religious, and I’ve got things with Emma, and all my work-”
“Oh, I can take care of that for you! Perks of being the owner’s son and all!”
Yeah, don’t remind me. Paul thought, rolling his eyes, thankful nobody could see him.
“Still, I’ve got plans for the honey festival with Emma-”
“Bring her with! We welcome new members! And it’ll be after the festival has ended, so you can do both. What do you say, son?”
Paul thought about it for a moment, actually thought about it. It would mean he didn’t have to do his weekly reports this week, he could have Emma as a witness to his father’s kookiness, and he wouldn’t be hassled into going again next year. It actually sounded like a pretty fair deal.
“Let me ask Emma if she’s interested and I’ll let you know.” He finally answered.
“Splendid!”
--
“Oh hell yeah I’ll go!”
“Really?” Paul asked in shock. “Because you really don’t have to. It’s gonna be weird, and uncomfortable, and you’ll probably be bored out of your mind-”
“Dude are you kidding? This sounds hilarious. I’ll just pop an edible, it'll be great.”
“Are you sure?”
“Paul, do you not want to go? Because you can throw me under the bus if you want to use that as your excuse, I don’t care.”
“I don’t, but if I go this year he’ll never ask me again which is what I want so I’m willing to tough it out for one night.”
“Okay. Well if you do wanna back out I’m totally okay with you making me look like the bad guy. I want you to have an out if you change your mind.”
--
“Did he tell you why it was so late at night?” Emma asked as they drove down the road to the event. They had just finished up a day of being out enjoying the honey festival. Normally the Honey Queen pageant would be wrapping up by now but it was cancelled after last year’s tragedy.
“I dunno, I’m sure it has something to do with a special time to the church or something.” Paul assumed.
“What’s the church called again?”
“Uh, The Church of Starry Children, I think? Something like that.”
“Paul, that sounds like a cult.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.”
“Are you sure this is safe? I know we’re only going once but they can suck you in pretty quick, can’t they?”
“Roman might be a wack job rich man but he wouldn’t do anything illegal, he’s smarter than that. I’m sure we’ll be fine. The name probably just means children of God or something like that.”
The car they were following, Roman’s Rolls-Royce, turned off the road and into the Witchwood forest and onto an unmarked but beaten down path through the trees. Paul furrowed his brow in confusion as he turned his blinker on to follow him.
“The church is in the woods?” Emma asked, now becoming very skeptical.
“I mean, his mansion is.” Paul shrugged, trying to make sense of it. “Maybe the Witchwood has special meaning to them.”
“Paul, you know what happens in these woods at night.”
“Do you wanna go home? It might be hard to turn around with the trees and the cars behind us but I could probably manage.”
“No it’s fine.” Emma sighed. Paul shot her an unsure look. “Really it is, I promise. You’re right. It’ll just be a little weird then it’ll be over. There’s gonna be a lot of people there, we’ll be okay.”
“Emma if you want to go I can turn around right now, it’s okay.”
“Nope, we’re gonna do this. We’re gonna see your crazy ass father spew some weird bullshit about God or whatever then we’re gonna enjoy our weekend because you don’t have to work and then he’s never gonna call and ask you to come again. That is… if you still want to go? Because again I’m okay if you need to tell them I gotta dump ass or something.”
“No, no I’m good.” Paul laughed. “Let’s just get it over with.”
Paul really did love that she had his back in all this. He just loved her in general. She was always looking out for what was best for him, checking in on his boundaries, making sure he was okay because she knew it wasn’t that hard for things to become not okay for him. And he would do that same for her, anytime. Especially when his ‘crazy ass’ father was involved.
“Thank you for coming with me.” He smiled at her.
“Of course.” She smiled back.
Roman’s car finally pulled over in a clearing, Paul and the cars behind him all followed and began to get out. Everyone save Paul and Emma were wearing black robes and silver masks that Paul assumed were church tradition. Roman approached them, his mask off.
“God the resemblance really is uncanny.” Emma whispered as she leaned into Paul.
“Paul!” Roman smiled, opening his arms and wrapping Paul into an awkward, unreciprocated hug. “It’s good to see you, son! And this must be Emma, it really is nice to meet you dear!” Roman made a move to hug her as well, but she stepped back and put a hand forward before he could. He took what he could get and shook it, although that was not why she had held it out in the first place.
“Hi, yeah, I’m Emma. Uh, quick question Roman. I thought we were going to a church? Why are we in the middle of the woods? I don’t see a church anywhere.”
“Oh you just wait and see my dear, it will all make sense soon.” Roman left for a moment to talk to another member of the church.
“Yeah I’m sure it will.” Emma whispered to Paul once again.
Roman returned to them holding a set of robes. “Here, son! These are for you.”
“Oh, I don’t really think that’s necessary.” Paul tried to politely turn him down.
“Now boy, you agreed to come and participate. Putting on a robe won’t hurt anybody, don’t embarrass me.”
With a sigh, Paul took the robes from him and put them on over his clothes.
“What about Emma? Does she need anything?”
“She’s perfect just the way she is.” Roman replied in a tone that made Emma just a tad uncomfortable. “Come join the circle, the ceremony is about to begin.”
Paul and Emma joined the circle with about a dozen other people. Roman walked into the center and began to speak.
“While this ceremony is usually held in honor of Hatchetfield’s newest Honey Queen, we unfortunately do not get to have that chance this year. Not after the body of Zoey Chambers was found hanging in the rafters of the Starlight theater and the town shut down the competition for good.”
Emma squeezed Paul’s hand, not enjoying being reminded of her ex-coworker’s death as the results of a dumb pageant gone too far. Paul put an arm around her shoulder.
“Still though, the bringing of the harvest must continue. I have brought my own guest of honor tonight, my son. And his lovely lady.” Roman gestured to them, Paul and Emma smiled awkwardly. “It is my pleasure to announce that Paul has finally decided to become one of us and join the church.”
“Uh, not joining!” Paul uncomfortably cut in. “Just checking it out.”
“You say that now son, but I know you will never want to leave after tonight.”
“Okay yeah this is a cult.” Paul whispered to Emma as Roman rambled on about the harvest.
“It is our duty to our Lord to go on, to find creative solutions, and that we have! The harvest will come after all! We will be rewarded by Nibblenephim for our work.”
“What the hell is a Nibble-fuck-em?” Emma asked Paul, now truly lost and a little concerned.
“Nibbly is unique. For one night a year, Nibblenephim, a Lord in Black may walk upon the earth if he is given the flesh to inhabit. And when he comes, he must feast.”
As if on cue, torches lit up, surrounding the circle and illuminating their surroundings for the first time. Paul and Emma looked in disgust as they saw the mutilated carcasses of pigs skewered around them. Blood leaking everywhere, dead eyes staring daggers through them. Everyone else seemed completely unfazed.
“Paul, I want to go home.” Emma panicked, gripping his arm and looking up at him.
“Yeah, yeah okay let’s go.” Paul breathed out, eyes still wide in shock. He began to walk them away from the circle.
“Where do you think you’re going, son? You’re our guests of honor!” Roman spotted them trying to leave. Paul and Emma were each grabbed by masked cultists, they were pried away from each other. Their hands were restrained behind their backs with zip ties. Paul was brought back to the circle while Emma was brought to the middle of it, being thrown down at Roman’s feet.
“Fine! Jesus Roman that’s one fucking way to get your message through, I-I’ll become a member of your cult! Just let her go!” Paul yelled at him.
“That’s not how it works, son.” Roman walked back over to him, leaving Emma alone in the middle of the circle. “Nibbly is a creature of hunger. We feared we wouldn’t be able to give him a proper offer this year with the Honey Queen no longer being around. We feared that he wouldn’t have something pure, whole. But thanks to your sacrifice we can bring about the harvest after all!”
“I’m not sacrificing Emma! There’s been a misunderstanding, she wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight!”
“And how lucky are we that she is.” Roman now stood in front of Paul, blocking his view of Emma.
“No-no I was supposed to be the one to come tonight. I should be the offering, take me instead, please, just-just let her go-”
“Oh son, looks like someone wasn’t paying attention. I said we feared we wouldn’t be able to offer Nibbly something pure. You were supposed to be the offering this year, but there’s something you don’t know, something that makes you impure, something that makes you different from her.”
“AND WHAT THE FUCK WOULD THAT BE?” Paul shouted, completely bewildered by how things turned so fast.
The cultists removed their masks. In the torchlight it was revealed that they all share the same face. Roman’s face. Paul’s face.
“You are my bastard in more ways than one my dear boy. You were the first in a long line of experiments to replicate myself. They were slow going at first, we didn’t have the technology in mind yet, so it made a new person from scratch. You had to be raised. So I sent you off to some woman and began again to get it right . I had to make sure you were healthy though, that nothing would go horribly wrong later on down the line. That was why I arranged for you to get a job at CCRP, so I could keep an eye on you. I bought CCRP to help with my experiments, they have been making copies of us in the basement for years. All while keeping progress on your health. Did you ever wonder why you had such good health insurance?”
Paul just shook his head in disbelief, Roman continued.
“I needed adult versions of myself, young, strong men that could take charge, that would be willing to help out with the church. So you could imagine my pleasure when you finally agreed to come after all these years! It was a shame that you had to be the offering, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make! That was, until you mentioned Emma, of course. I know a lot about Emma, but more importantly I know how there will be no one to miss her. No one except you, but since you’re a member of the church now that hardly matters anymore!”
“I-I’m not fucking joining you if you kill her! The police will hear about this, you’ll be shut down, you’ll go to jail! I’ll only do it if you let her go.”
“Oh dear son, I have a feeling you’ll have a change of heart in all that.”
“PAUL!” Emma called to him, Paul looked past Roman and at her. She was very visibly shaking, struggling to get to her feet as she was surrounded by the gore she kept slipping in. “Paul help me! ”
“Please, please I’m begging you, offer me instead. You obviously never cared about me as a son, you were originally planning to offer me anyways, so what fucking difference does it make?!”
“It makes all the difference in the world to Nibbly.”
The others, the other Romans, the other Pauls, began to chant in a language Paul did not understand. The carnage around Emma began to swirl and congeal into a mass. A mass that would become a faintly outlined figure, a figure that had nothing but a long neck and a face made up entirely of teeth. It grinned wildly, if it had eyes, it was surely looking down at Emma.
“Hello Emma!” It echoed.
“No… NO !” Paul cried out, struggling to free him to run over and push Emma out of the way. But he was held down by his shoulders, forced to watch down on his knees.
Emma tried to push herself away using her feet, but it was no use. A hand formed and grabbed onto her, lifting her into the air level with its face.
“Fuck fuck FUCK !” She cried, kicking and screaming.
“EMMA!” Paul called out, his voice wavering, tears streamed down his face. “Emma, I’m sorry! I-I’m so fucking sorry-! ”
It opened its mouth and just like that, Emma’s screams were silenced. She was gone. The only thing to be heard were Paul’s sobs.
“There, there, son. It’ll be alright.” Roman put a hand on Paul’s shoulder.
“Get away from me!” Paul jerked away from his touch.
“He’s still here, Paul.”
Paul’s breathing halted. He looked up and while his vision was blurry with tears, Nibbly was still there.
“You made an offering, and for that he will gift you in return. Nibblenephim is a generous Lord. What is it you want, my boy?”
The cultists let Paul stand. With his arms still tied behind him, Paul began walking towards the Lord in Black. He had nothing to lose anymore, if Roman was lying and it ate him too then so be it. Maybe Emma wasn’t actually dead, maybe she went somewhere, maybe it could send him there too.
What Paul didn’t know was that he was some sort of offering too. Roman had given Emma to Nibbly for something in return, and he didn’t want wealth or power this time. He wanted something he had been chasing after for the past 15 years. He wanted Paul, his clone, his first born, his son , to see things his way. For his creation to turn out just like him.
And Nibbly would give him exactly that.
