Chapter 11 - Cleo Cleo sat on a chair in her small kitchen. She was alone again. Not uncommon these days. Etho often took Bdubs with him, a decision of which she highly disapproved. He was bound to be a bad influence on the boy, and she hated that there was barely anything she could do about it. Thankfully she at least had Scar, most of the time. He was usually off with his friends, always over at other’s houses more than he was at his own. She couldn’t blame him. She'd leave too if she were in his shoes. That aside, still felt lonely almost constantly. Cleo didn’t completely mind, it was nice having solitude once in a while. Though she certainly missed when they’d all been happy. A noise from the front door startled her. “Hey mom,” Scar said, stepping into the dining room. “Hey Scar, how was the sleepover?” Cleo sat up straighter, giving her son a small smile. “Pretty good,” he sat down at the table. “Went about the same as the other times.” “Glad to hear it.” He nodded, “so is Bdubs still gone?” “Unfortunately yes,” She sighed. “I wish he wouldn’t have gone with your father but he has always practically idolized him.” “I used to, but it’s hard to do so now.” Scar frowned, looking down at the table. “I think it’s been hard for all of us.” Scar considered for a moment, “I did talk to Skizz a few days ago and he offered to beat the crap out of Etho if you need him to.” Cleo laughed. A genuine laugh, something she felt she hadn’t done in years. “Tell him that I may just take up that offer.” They both fell silent. There was so much more of that than there used to be. The sadness that Scar tried to cover up was still visible. He tried to stay strong, presumedly for her, but she could tell he hurt. All of that made her want to scream. All of this emptiness had been caused by one person. One person whom she severely despised. Cleo sighed, pulling from her thoughts. “Did you get any breakfast? There’s still some soup leftover.” Scar shook his head, “I’m okay, we had pancakes.” “Good, speaking of Skizz, how's his family been doing recently? You went over there a few days ago didn’t you?” Scar nodded. “Yeah, they seem pretty good. Gem and the Scotts performed a few days ago. I didn’t go, but Tango said it was really good.” “So I’ve heard; Skizz keeps mentioning how proud he is of her.” Cleo saw a flicker of something dark in her son’s eyes at the words. He looked down at the table. “I’m glad she’s got such a supportive dad.” “Oh, Scar-” she reached out to touch his shoulder. “No, It’s fine.” He gently brushed her hand away, looking up again, his face now back to the normal mask of happiness. “Really, I’m okay.” She didn’t believe him, but she let them both pretend anyway. Neither of them could think of anything to say, so Cleo got up to get a glass of water. With the drink retrieved, she sat back down. Seeming to remember something, Scar pulled out his bag. He’d had the thing for several years, a fact that was apparent by it being frayed in several places. She made a mental note to get him a new one soon. The bag did not seem to be his exact point of interest however. He pulled from it an old book, cover and pages both old and worn. She recognized its importance immediately.
“Scar, where’d you get that?” She asked cautiously. “That’s what I wanted to tell you about. I er- found this, and I’ve been practicing with it.” He handed it over to her and she took it, frowning slightly. The cover had no lettering that she could see. The words inside were in some unknown language that she couldn’t even begin to fathom how to read. “An enchanting book! Where did you get this?” He ignored the question, instead leaning over and flipping to a random page near the back of the book. “Normally you need the full table to read these, but I’ve been able to read it just fine.” He flipped a few more pages then pointed at what seemed to be the title of one. “See? Sharpness.” “I don’t,” she stated, raising an eyebrow. “Well it’s perfectly normal to me. I’ve tried some things from it and so far they’ve worked pretty well.” He grinned, “Here, choose a random one.” A slightly uneasy feeling crept up but she ignored it, instead focusing on just how happy the book seemed to make him. As requested, she flipped to a random page. Scar examined it for a moment, then when he felt confident enough, said the spell. Cleo felt the effects right away. She had no clue what it had done but something Scar had said had been very wrong. From his face, he knew he had said something off as well. He put the book back in his bag, and she felt something relaxing in her. It was as if she had been holding her breath the entire time it had been out. “Mom, you okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” Scar’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I’m okay, I probably just need sleep, I didn’t get much last night.” she said, totally lying. Scar nodded, the concern never leaving his expression. She waved him off when he tried to help her to her room. When the door shut she went to stare at her bathroom mirror, trying to understand why she was beginning to look so terrible. In places her slowly greying skin had started to turn green, never a solid color. She looked monstrous. The specific details of what were happening to her she never quite saw, as she decided to go to bed, but she could certainly feel them. It was an uncomfortable experience, but she did manage at least a few minutes of sleep. After that time it became quite unbearable. Nothing was painful exactly, but that wasn’t to say it was a nice feeling. Eventually she gave up completely on the thought of sleep, and decided to go back outside. Cleo needed to know what had been in that book. The second she saw Scar’s face she froze. His mouth had dropped open, and not in a good way. She could hear the fear in his voice as he spoke. “MOM?! You- you-” “Scar? What was in that spell?” Cleo crossed her arms. He scrambled to grab the book, rifling quickly through the thin pages. “Uh, Smite. It increases the attack damage to… uh… undead creatures. I think- I think I may have said the spell wrong.” “You don’t say.” “Does- does it hurt?” He asked, still sitting in a defensive posture. “Other than parts of my skin literally falling off, It’s fine.” Scar winced, “yeah, do you want uh, help with that or something?” “Is it that bad?” She knew without the question that it was. Cleo refused to look at her now pale green hands, where she could practically feel her skin tearing itself apart. “Maybe?… Yes?” He tried to smile but failed, “you’re not going to kill me or anything are you?” Cleo thought for a minute, “I don’t think I feel any murderous rage, so you seem to be okay.” She winced as she felt more of her skin tear. “Could you get the sewing kit Scar, it's in my closet.” Scar nodded and sprang past her to retrieve the item. That left Cleo alone again. That was something she was used to, something she had come to terms with almost. This- this was the same way. It was fine, she’d have Scar find a way to change her back. But in the meantime, she could put up with it. After all, how hard could being a zombie even be? Sorry for the long wait :') this chapter is pretty decent, my goal was to have a pretty chill chapter to kinda balance out the insanity of the last few, did I succeed? nope, I had to zombify Cleo lol first: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1059153057 previous: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1122110308 next: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1135954580
