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The Foxkey Chronicles: What Hides Beneath

The Foxkey Chronicles: Of Snow and Blood Part 3 of 3

In part three, the final piece to this trilogy, Jack discovers more of the evil workings going on in Greyrock Township. It's now up to him to save the town...or die trying.

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Duration:
31m
Broadcast on:
29 Dec 2024
Audio Format:
other

This is a Fox Key Chronicles Christmas special made for you, our dear kin, this holiday season. The Fox Key Chronicles of Snow and Blood is a true and honest recollection of past events shared with you, young kin. It occurs in a time and a place that might seem familiar, but isn't. If you have come upon these wretched chronicles, you are part of the clan and entrusted with their protection, even being clan, as you are. These chronicles are not for the faint of heart, and listener discretion is advised. [Music], the Fox Key Chronicles of Snow and Blood is a true and honest relationship. [Music] Of Snow and Blood, part three. [Music] Jack Handler stood in the livery stable of gray rock in, his chest heaving, his jaw tense, a chain in one hand, and blood at his feet. Before him was the shroud, the shroud without its human host, it was nothing more than a gigantic roach, or at least, something like a roach, while still looking like nothing Jack had ever seen before in his life. It had a long bisected exoskeleton, with fixed legs and the heads the sides of a boronk. It buzzed and stank, stretching up its human meal as it writhed and rolled on the floor, its body forsaken thanks to the power that Jack had used. Jack took hold of the chain in both hands and lunged forward, leaping onto the back of the distracted bug, and swinging the chain over its head and around its thin neck, twisting. He dodged the shroud, playing limbs, and wrenched the chain tucked around its throat. When he was sure that he had it by the throat well and good, he reached for his blade, where it stuck out of the bug's shoulder and wrenched it free. In a desperate attempt to escape, the shroud flipped onto its back, slamming it onto the floor. It shrieked and squeezed, flailing around. The air was struck from Jack's lungs when he hit the ground and he croaked out a groan as his back lit up with pain. That didn't stop him though, no pain ever did. With a slash and gesture, he struck the blade across the throat of the bug once, then twice, the marks flying off of armored plating, then he runched down on the chain and he slashed one last time. Its head fell free from its shoulders. Green goof and mucus spewed from where its head used to be, burning against Jack's skin. Jack cried out, rolling away from the creature, and quickly calling forth his power to cleanse him of the toxic fluids. The headless body of the shroud flailed across the ground, limbs kicking out and twisting. The body moving even though it didn't have a head or a brain to speak of. Then slowly, it went still, its care pace crumbling to the ground. Jack lie on his back, gasping for breath, taking in the pain of his body and converting it into energy. He struggled to his feet, dragging himself upright. Just then, a scream of the night. The sound of gunfire ricocheted off the stable walls. Jack groaned. The night was not over yet. Running out of the stable, Jack stumbled into the night air, his chest heaving, his gun in hand, and slipped into chaos. All around, bug-like entities crawled across the facades of houses, clung their way up siding and ripping through doors. The townsfolk were awake man, there was no denying that. A man leapt from his house, gun in hand, and began to fire upon the shrouds. His aim striking true, he didn't last long. A shroud came up behind him and stabbed him through the heart with his many pronged legs. Soon, others were joining in, and the wailing cries of the dead and dying were second only to the sound of gunfire. A scream came from the inn, Jack would recognize that voice, anywhere, truly. With a shout, he ran back for the inn, one of his boots falling off in the process, his foot hitting bare snow and a startling icy burst. Jack ignored the cold, running up to the open door of the inn and stepping inside. Chaos surrounded him. Men and women, bodies split across the floor no more alive than the wooden floorboards themselves. Blood was everywhere, including on the walls and the ceiling. It dripped in droves, seeping across the ground and puddling in nooks and crannies. A gunshot went off, nearly striking Jack in the head. It connected with the doorway just to the left of his ear. Jack spun around, and time to see Albert Ray take down a shroud with one well-placed shot with a dome. Behind Albert huddled Esther and Thomas. Esther was crying, struggling to get up, even as Thomas held her back. "Oh God, Trudy!" She cried, attempting to twist out of her son's grasp. Jack took aim upon the near shroud and fired, taking off one long limb before it had a chance to slice Albert into. Albert turned his pistol on the shroud, firing three shots in rapid succession. Each strike had the demon stumbling backward before it collapsed on the ground, dead. In its place was another. Jack turned, aiming his gun and firing it at the newcomer's head, his bullets ricocheted with a metallic ping. Instead, he aimed for the more fragile legs, blowing each one out from under it, until it collapsed, limbless to the ground. With a snarl, Jack stepped forward, aimed his gun point blank at its head, and fired. Jack turned in time to see a shroud allied upon a woman. The two struggled for a gun between them. The woman, attempting to get off a shot, even as one long leg slashed through the air, and dissected her hands from her wrists. Disembodied, her hands fell to the ground, the gun going off, and shooting at nothing. A man, who had to be her husband, shouted out, even as she stood there, staring at the stumps of her arms in open horror. Jack took advantage of the shroud's distraction and took it out with one well-placed bullet. He ignored its falling form as he rushed towards the injured woman with Albert on his heels. Hurry up, find her wounds before she bleeds out. Albert shouted and grabbed the husband, forcing him to cover the stumps of his wife's hands with the fabric from her skirts. "I have your back," Jack said, putting himself between the three and the rest of the room, as Albert ripped off shreds of fabric and made a tourniquet over each wrist. "Keep pressure on them, and she might live," Albert said. "Albert, get them out of here," Jack ordered, firing off a round at the nearest shroud. "I'll be right back, Esther," Albert said, pulling the injured woman to her feet. "No, Albert, don't leave us!" "I promise, I'll be back," Albert left the room with his charges in tow, trusting Jack would protect his wife and child. Protecting Albert as he retreated out the door, Jack fired his gun at the closest shroud. Click, his gun was empty. Jack cursed and reached for the bullet bag on his hip, quickly reloading his weapon. It wouldn't be the last time either. They fought on for what felt like ours, but could have only been minutes. Each shroud taken down with the utmost of malice, even as their own people went down with them. Suddenly, all was silent, but for the tragic whales of Esther Ray and the cries of the injured. When all was quiet and there was nothing more to shoot at, Jack made his way over to Esther Ray, where she hid beside the overturned remains of the Christmas tree. Her son clutched in her arms. "Jack! Jack, please! They took Trudy, they took Trudy!" Esther wailed hysterically, struggling to her feet with her son in tow. "Please, save my sister," Thomas sobbed, still clinging to his mother. He pointed upstairs, upstairs. Jack asked, reloading his weapon, inserting a couple of rounds into the chamber and topping it off with superb efficiency. "Here, you know how to use this?" Jack asked, holding it out for the younger boy to take. Thomas nodded, accepting the weapon was shaking hands. "Good boy, more are coming. You have to protect your mom, Pa. I'll go get your sister." "Please, Jack, please!" Esther sobbed from her place beside her son. Albert burst into the room, gesturing for his family to follow him. "Follow me! We can hide in the cellar!" Albert said, his face pale, as he made the choice to save the family. He knew he had left. "No, I can't lose my baby girl!" Esther cried out, a maternal fire alightened her eyes. "Don't worry, you won't," Jack wanted to say, but he dared not. Not when they had a veritable infestation on their hands. "Albert, stay in the cellar until I come back. Esther, I'll find Trudy, no matter what." Jack said, taking a moment to kick off his boot. He turned away from the couple, avoiding broken glass, and overturned tables. He made his way towards the second floor stairwell. "Wait, you're unarmed," Albert called, running over to Jack and stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Please, take this." He offered over his pistol. "No, you need it more than I do. Please, help the others to safety. That's how you can help me." Jack protested, pushing the gun aside. "Besides, I'm not unarmed, right. Thank you, Jack." Albert said reluctantly, moving after his family and leaving Jack alone in the room. With a nod and a glance around the now-devoid space, Jack turned and ran, his knives settling into his palms, his feet taking him up the steps two at a time. He came up to the second story landing, his heart and his throat, his white hair blazing out behind him as he stepped into the darkness. He paused, listening for something, anything. It was silent, but for the distant sound of gunfire and screaming. On either side of him was a row of doors. He moved over to the first door on his left, and let it squeak open on rusty hinges. A body lay across the bed, its belly ripped out much the same way the one in the barn had been. He'd never had a chance. Jack grimaced, turning away, and headed towards the next room, and the next after that. It was a massacre. No one on the second floor had made it out alive. If Jack didn't do something soon, come morning, there would be nothing left of Greyrock Township. What he had to do was find their master. He knew shrouds, and they had a hive mind. Once their master was gone, the others would flee, and that's just about the only thing Jack could ask for. Came a cry from one of the farthest rooms. Jack jerked his head towards the sound and stepped down the hall, picking up his pace. He came to the final door at the end of the hall and reached out to open it. It was locked. That didn't last long. With a burst of power, Jack allowed himself to feast. The door knob crumbled to dust in his hands, and the door swung open with a kick to the exterior. "Stop right there, Fox Key, or I'll kill them both." A voice commanded. Jack stopped where he was, his eyes narrowing, as he took in the view before him. There, standing at the head of the bed, was a shroud of gigantic proportions. It wasn't wearing human flesh as the others had, which made it all the more ugly. Every limb and hair showed off in fine, grotesque detail as it stood up on a tined legs. Behind it, clustered upon the bed in abject terror, was Emily the house mistress. With Trudy huddled desperately at her side, Emily was wearing her night clothes with her hair up in pins, and for all the world, it seemed as though she had woken up from a rather deep sleep. Her eyes were wide, her features terrified. She took one look at him, and the desperation on her face was a palpable thing. "It's going to be alright," Jack said, raising his hands to show he meant no harm, a gesture that was lost thanks to the blades he held in either palm. The creature laughed, its voice cracking and creaking in a faux mimicry of a human's laugh. "No, they won't be alright, they are mine." It declared, stepping forward, the room shook under its weight, and the floorboards creaked. Jack was not impressed, you let them go, and you might live to see another day. Jack said, not meaning a word of what he said, he'd killed the shroud, even if it was the last thing he did. "You speak, but your words mean nothing." The shroud master hissed, "You know what I am, you know what that means for you." Jack said, watching the space between the shroud and its prisoners grow. Good, he wanted it to come closer, needed it to even. He wanted its focus on him and him alone. "But I have fed, and you, you look delicious." The shroud laughed, and with that lunged forward, reaching out with its bug-like limbs and slashing outward. Jack dodged, leaping backward, his knives flashed and claimed against the tough exoskeleton. He parried them away before the creature could harm him. The shroud was strong, each clash of its many limbs jarred and strained Jack's arms, but thanks to its size, it was slow, and Jack was mostly able to keep it away from him, even in the tight confines of the hallway. Most, a cloth slashed through the air, leaving a zing of pain behind that struck Jack's arm, with a shout. Jack struck back, leaping around the flailing limb and digging his knives into the flesh he needed at the elbow of the creature, cutting off the limb with a spray of green zoom and a shout from the shroud. The acidic blood splashed across the floor, landing on the floorboards and making them fizzle and sizzle. That gave Jack an idea. Dodging a bone breaking blow, he crouched down, dropped his eyes, and pressed his hands to the floorboards. Through the magic leaped forth, at his calling, eating through the floorboards so rapidly that the creature barely had a moment to realize what was happening before its weight took it downward. With a screech, it fell through the floorboards, dropping towards the first floor, where it landed with a splash and a pop as its body shattered upon the lower level. Jack stood, his chest heaving, the sound of his own breath gasping in his ears. He stared down at the mess of the shroud lying below, and half expected it to get back up. But it didn't. It was dead, dead as could be. Trudy sobs echoed down the hall. His job wasn't over yet. Jack skirted around the hole in the floor, cleaning up the blood and gore as he went, his powers wiping it away. No matter what they'd been through, a child didn't need to see that. He came to the room at the end of the hall, and Trudy and Emily were upon him in an instant. Trudy leapt to clutch at his side, and Emily wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They sobbed together, their body's quaking against his. It's alright, everything's going to be alright. Jack said, after a moment of stunned silence. He comforted the two the best way he knew how. Wrapping his good arm around Emily, and scrubbing his hand through Trudy's hair. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Jack was hit, a deep resounding hit that for all the world felt like he'd been punched. The pain was an overwhelming agony that had his knees collapsing from under him and hitting the floor with a resounding thud. Jack looked down to see the rigid outline of a shroud's limb sticking through his body. Jack croaked, and blood sprayed from his mouth. He stared, and enraptured dismay at the thing that pinned through him. For that's what it did. It stuck to him. When in out he could feel it with every ounce of his body, the pain was significant, though it was quickly fading, as shock took over, latching onto his brain and numbing the effects of it. Jack turned his gaze upward and met Emily's gaze. He wanted to tell her to run, to get out of there, to take Trudy and to flee to safety. The Emily he was looking at wasn't quite Emily at all. It was there in her eyes a slowly growing look of lascivious pleasure that was inhuman in its entirety. She wasn't smiling at him, no, but he could see the enjoyment in her gaze. The pleasure, his demise, surely brought her. And then she stepped backwards, and Jack could see that the insect's leg that had impaled him was indeed attached to her. It had ripped through her nightgown, leaving a gaping hole in the fabric of it. Trudy whispered, her voice breaking. Jack turned his gaze towards the little girl, seeing her confusion and mounting fear, Trudy, even as young as she was. She could see something was wrong. Run. Jack croaked, his voice cracking from pain, and then loudered, which he did not move. He shouted, "Run, run Trudy." And she did, stumbling backwards, away from him, and dashing down the hall. She was fast, and he could hear her take the stairs in a flash. Tisk, tisk, tisk. They declared, watching Trudy go. "What? Did you expect her to stay?" Jack asked, laughing breathlessly. "No, but she would have been delicious. The young ones always are. They're more tender." Emily explained, her clothes ripping from her form, as it boiled, and elongated twisting and pooling from the confines of her dress. With a final tearing sound, the dress fell down around her, along with the skin of one Emily, mistress of the house. It sloughed to the floor, wet and solid. You on the other hand, are well worth the wait. I wasn't expecting a fox key to come, but I was hoping. Do you know what he would mean, for one of my kinds to take down one of yours? And so easily too. The shroud straightened, stepping out from the body of its host, and dragging Jack with it. Jack choked, reaching out to clutch his hand around the exoskeleton of its leg. Instinct kicked in, and told him that if the shroud pulled her limb out now, he would surely be dead. He clutched the creature's leg for dear life, sagging around it. Jack hardly noticed. As sharp, hair-like protrusions poked at his skin. So you're their master. He said, looking up at her face, where she had Emily's skin hanging over her head, like some hard mass. No. I am Hive. The shroud decreed, and this time she did smile, a haunting mimicry of a smile, with the jaws of her mandibles pulling at the skin, and tiny, feeding fingers expressing themselves between the walls of her lips. And now, that I will feed upon the remains of a fox key, I'll be the strongest. One of us, there has ever been, come don, we will own this town. That's when Jack scoffed, his head falling back on his shoulders, his red stained teeth glinting in the lamp light. The Hive's head twisted to the side, and she looked down upon him with something, like curiosity. What do you dare laugh at now, with death so close? The Hive asked, her voice hissing like the sound of a cockroach. I laugh because you think you'll get out of this alive. Jack had never used his power on a living creature before, good or evil. But he did so now. Jack laughed even louder, his voice strained with pain, and then he closed his eyes and called upon his powers, and he clutched that wayward limb that had entered his belly with all his might, and he faced it, bringing his power forth, and pushing it down on the living highway. Drawing upon every ounce of his strength in one big pulse that set his power from the limb and upward until it was feasting upon the Hive itself, turning her to ash before his very eyes. She didn't have a second to react before she was gone. Outside, the cry of the remaining shrouds rose up at the loss of their leader. Jack wasn't paying attention to them. He was too busy clutching his hands around his middle, because just as he had expected, without the limb blocking his wound, he began to spew forth blood. It spilled freely from within, staining the floor red and the skin of his hands even redder. He groaned, closing his eyes, and thought briefly that this must be how it finally ends. He was reminded of his family, of his children and his wife, and hell, even the damn horse. He thought of how they would miss him, but also of their strength, because they'd find a way they had to. There was nothing he could do to stop it now. And everything, and I mean everything, faded to black. Jack blinked awake to the unfamiliar smiling face of a woman. Oh, thank God, you're awake. The woman said, I am, Jack coughed, looking around. He was inside an unfamiliar room, with the curtains drawn against the coming light of dawn. A lamp rested at the table by his elbow, and a blanket lie across his middle. With the groan of discomfort, he lifted the blanket and peered underneath, half expecting to see his middle torn to shreds and bandaged. Only, there wasn't a mark on his skin. He raised his storm gray eyebrows, and laughed. You must have come right in the nick of time. He said, looking up to meet the walker's gaze. She smiled, nodding her head. "You're lucky, Mr. Harding, any later, and you would have been dead like everyone else." She explained in her soft voice, "No one survived." Jack moved to sit up an alarm, but she reached out of hand and pushed him back into place. "I wouldn't go doing that. A healing of this quality doesn't just come and go. Then she turned away from him, and looked towards the room door. You can come in now, he's awake!" And then, to his immediate relief, into the room, stepped the ray family. All four of them were haggard and disheveled. They saw him, and they sighed with relief. "Oh, Mr. Harding! Your lucky Mr. Ray was around. He was able to get the bleeding under control, until I arrived." The woman explained, nodding her head in thanks to the other man. "Albert, are you a doctor?" Jack asked, in somewhat of a day's. Mr. Ray nodded his head. "That I am, though I'm afraid your injuries were beyond even me. This is Hawkins here, is the real savior of the day. What she does is...inexplicable." Albert said the last with the note of dismay, his voice cracking. It wasn't every day that a human discovered the world of fox keys and walkers, after all. "Well, you'd be right about that," Jack admitted, patting his belly. "You're lucky that shroud didn't hit your spine. I can cure many things, but spinal damage isn't one of them. Mrs. Hawkins explained, sounding downright disappointed." "Well, you did your best by me," Jack admitted with a yawn. "Come on, we should let Mr. Harding rest." Mrs. Hawkins declared, rising from her position on the bed. She shewed the others away, ducking her head and guiding them out the door. Just as she was about to leave, she turned her gaze towards Jack, and offered him a smile. "I suppose this calls for a Merry Christmas, Mr. Harding." She said, nodding towards the window, where the dawn was rising on Christmas day. "I suppose it does." "Merry Christmas to you, Mrs. Hawkins." Thus ends our Christmas tale. We hope you enjoyed this little journey of ours with Jack and a surprise visit for Mrs. Hawkins. That's right. Come back from beyond the grave, or rather, from before the grave, to share in some Christmas tidings. How did you like our holiday special? Are you ready for more? We have one more short story en route before we begin with season two of the Fox Key Chronicles. We'll hide beneath. Stay tuned until next week for the Fox Key Chronicles, what lurks below. And in the meantime, keep those reviews coming in. We're depending on you. And that concludes the Fox Key Chronicles of Snow and Blood. Thank you for listening. As you know, this is a two-woman show, and it isn't our day job, Ken. We work hard on our off time to make these episodes for you and yours. If you want to support this podcast, please donate on our website. There you can find exclusive content. The narrator, Emily, Twig, and Mrs. Hawkins were performed by Cole Hill. Jack and the Ray family were performed by Alina Hill. Our opening theme song was created by Camario, and our end theme song by Derek F.P. Morning Serenade is by Gustavo Alvira. And boy, do we appreciate their talent. Head over to our website to get more information on the artists and sound effects used on our program. Until next time, good Ken, I bid you farewell on this episode of the Fox Key Chronicles, what hides beneath. [BEEP] [BLANK_AUDIO]
In part three, the final piece to this trilogy, Jack discovers more of the evil workings going on in Greyrock Township. It's now up to him to save the town...or die trying.

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