Part Four of The Stitched AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a completed fanfic series of mine with 24 total chapters. I started this October of 2018 and finished it May of 2021. While alone one night, Jameson finds himself vulnerable to attacks from a certain villain.]
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JJ yawned, and looked at the clock. He tried to keep his shop open past midnight every night, in case somebody wanted help with a lunar spell. Those were most effective when conducted at midnight, or at the moon’s zenith. But JJ was not a night owl like Jack or Schneep, and sometimes he just couldn’t stay up that late, especially knowing he had to open at noon the next morning. This was one of those times. The clock read 10:58 and his eyelids were already drooping.

He straightened his posture, stretching. Then, he went through the motions of closing up. Sweeping the floor, dusting the books and talismans on sale, moving the change from the register to the strongbox, turning off most of the yellow lamps, flipping the sign on the front window from “Open” to “Closed.” But before he could go upstairs to his apartment and and his soft, comfortable bed, he had to check the side rooms. There were two: what he called the green room, where he did readings for tourists, and the crimson room, where he kept some of the more useful magick materials…those that he felt safe keeping out in the relative open.

The green room’s entryway was an arch without a door. There was a curtain of beads, but those did nothing except impress the customers that didn’t know anything about magick. A lot of those would pop in, checking out the strange little shop that looked like it belonged in an earlier time period. The green room was sort of catered towards that type, with a bunch of aesthetic junk, most of which did nothing. There was even a crystal ball sitting on top of the table’s fancy cloth, though in his experience flat, reflective surfaces were better for scrying.

JJ rummaged around the room, adjusting the paintings on the walls, checking the chest of drawers to see that everything was in its proper place. It seemed it was…but…JJ frowned. He couldn’t find his cards anywhere. He double-checked everywhere, even peeking underneath the tablecloth. No, they weren’t anywhere.

“Well, that’s a pickle,” JJ muttered to himself. He’d made those cards himself. Imbued them with magick of his own making, in addition to any they might already have. Honestly, the art of the tarot had always struck JJ as a little… unauthentic. It started as a card game, after all. But who knows? He’d learned long ago to never assume anything was ordinary.

Time to check out the crimson room. JJ turned the lamps of the green room off, brushed through the bead curtain, and crossed through the main body of the shop and over to the closed door that led to the crimson room. He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a small key ring. He selected the larger key of the two and used it to unlock the door. Everything should be in order here, he hadn’t used it all day.

Everything was NOT in order.

The first thing he noticed was the light. All the lamps in the room were on and blazing. JJ froze. That was impossible. Not only did he keep the only key on his person at all times, not only were there no windows and the vents were too small for anything to fit through, but also the room was protected. There were runes inside the walls and talismans under the floor. Nothing should’ve been able to get in and turn the lights on.

Except it had been breached once before.

JJ shook off the memory. He didn’t like to be reminded of that day. Sure, he’d met Jack and Chase and they’d become his two best friends, but he’d also nearly lost them within an hour of finding them. And that demon…the way he’d barely managed to banish him in time…it had shaken him. He’d doubled the defenses on the crimson room, and on his apartment upstairs, but maybe it still wasn’t strong enough…

He stepped into the room, eyes darting from side to side. The only thing that was different was that his deck of cards was sitting in the middle of the center table. JJ stared at it. There was no way that could’ve gotten here. Was there?

“Who’s here?” JJ called.

The lamps flickered, and JJ jumped as the door behind him slammed shut. He whirled around, pulling desperately on the handle, but the door refused to budge. JJ took a deep breath, trying to calm down. His mind darted between fragments of knowledge he’d learned over years of study. But this was instinctive. He thought he knew who this was. And he knew almost nothing about him.

“So, is it you?” JJ turned back around, putting his hands on his hips. He schooled his features into a carefully neutral expression. “I think you’re the only one who could get into this room at this point. What do you want?”

A few of the lamps flared, then burst with an electric chuckle, leaving the table the only thing truly illuminated. The message was more than clear. JJ folded his arms. “Why don’t you show yourself? I know you can.” Unless…he’d been rather quiet for the last three months, ever since he went after Schneep at the hospital. Maybe he was weakened…? Or he needed time to manifest?

There was no answer. JJ debated just ignoring him. Not acknowledging demons defeated a great deal of them. But he’d already talked to him. Fiddlesticks. Well, might as well go along with this. Who knows what the consequences could be otherwise? And he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was curious. Despite months of research, they hadn’t found much information on him. What if he could learn more? What if he could use that to help his friends?

Cautiously, JJ took a seat at the table. A chair opposite him pulled out, then pushed back in, like someone invisible had just sat there. The deck of tarot cards was pushed towards JJ, who took it, staring at the empty spot where a person should be, and shuffled. He didn’t want any tricks. Then, he held out the cards towards the empty spot. Five cards were pulled out of the deck, then laid on the table like a plus symbol.

JJ raised an eyebrow. “Five-card reading? But are you going to tell me what for?” There was no answer. “General reading it is, then,” JJ muttered. He reached out and turned over the card in the center.

The image of a knight riding into battle upon a black horse. He wielded a scythe, arching over his head. The card’s subtitle read Death. Well, this was off to a fantastic start. “The first card describes your present situation,” JJ said, his voice loud in the silent room. “And it sets the general tone for the reading. Many people see Death as a bad omen, but that’s not the case. It could mean the necessary death of something, such as the harvest in the fall leading to winter, and new plants growing in the spring. But…I’ve never seen Death as the first card. It may mean you’re currently experiencing it, either the death of a project or…” JJ trailed off. It didn’t usually mean the literal death of a person, but in this situation?

He forced himself to turn over the second card. A man carried seven sharp blades. Blood was on their edges, and JJ was sure that hadn’t been there when he drew the picture. “The second card is the past, it shows what events are still influencing you in the present day. This is the Seven of Swords. It represents…deceit.” JJ bit his lip as he thought. “That could mean your life is being shaped by a deception or betrayal that happened long ago. Or maybe not too long ago. Perhaps you know this?” A few more lamps went out, leaving just one above the table. There was a low whine in the air.

JJ hesitated a bit, then turned over the third card. Five crossed sticks, or what appeared to be. “The third card is the future. It explains events that will happen. The Five of Wands symbolizes struggles caused by ambition. In the future spot…it’s a warning. It means you’re pushing your plans at—at the expense of others.” His hands were shaking. The whine was steadily growing louder. “This…this isn’t a reading for YOU is it?” JJ whispered. “You’re the querent, but…you don’t need to know these things.” A laugh echoed in the back of his mind.

JJ reached for the fourth card, then stopped. He was starting to have doubts about this. But then the light above flickered, and the whine increased to a piercing volume. JJ winced, then hurriedly turned over the fourth card. Everything stabilized. The card showed a man with brown hair, sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding two blades crossed over his chest. He wore a black blindfold. JJ was sure this card was altered, because he knew his original drawing had been of a woman instead. “The fourth card is the cause of your current situation,” JJ said quietly. “It’s meant to shed light on the event mentioned in the second card. The Two of Swords means conflicting ideas. It can also mean a lack of communication, resulting in…in drastic consequences. Perhaps this led to the deception?”

He didn’t even stop to think this time. Immediately after finishing his analysis of the fourth card, he turned over the fifth. A tall structure rose into the sky of the image. Green lightning was striking it, smoke and rubble flying from the point of impact. Four shadowy figures were falling from the top. It was the Tower. JJ swallowed nervously. “Fifth card…the fifth card is potential. It shows what will happen if you continue on this path. And the Tower…it means disaster. Destructive, uncompromising, collective disaster. It’s approaching. I would…normally, the advice is to just let it happen, and pick up the pieces afterward. But…” JJ looked up. There was an outline of a man, full of buzzing interference, now sitting in the chair across from him. “But this isn’t disaster for you…it’s for us. And it’s what you want. Is that right, Anti?”

The silhouette tilted its head. “Çl̕͏eveŗ̸,” a hissing voice bounced around his mind. “You’re sm͟a̶r͞t̵er than I t̴ho͏u̡ght̨, J̞a̸͕ͅc͈̦̟͎͎̯̠͍̠k҉̧̜͟s̮̦̞͉o̪͈̗̣͈͝͠n̷͔̞̜̙͕͇. But will that s̷̡͝av̧͠e̵̴ y͡ou̴̡?”

“From what?” JJ forced himself to smile. “From you? I got rid of you well enough the last times.”

Anti hummed, annoyed. “ M͡͞a̡͢ybe̢ you did, but that was b̧͏efor͡e͞͏̸. Now, I k͡n̴ow̷. Did you think I̸̛ w̨͝a̧͢ş̴ g̛͞o͞͠n̵e͞? I’ve been here the e̛n͢tįr͠e ̕͢ţ̵̕im̵̴͠ȩ. Always ther͢e͢. ͞A҉l̶w̕ay̨s͟ ̷w̵at̸c̡h̢i̕n̸g̶.̕ Do you want to know what I s̴̠ͅa̜̼̙̪̪̣͟w̛̩?”

Jameson leaned back. “Is this some roundabout way of threatening to bump me off? Because it’s not working.”

“ O͟͏͢h͢͏͏,͟͠ ͏̶b͏u͠t i̕t̸ i̷̢ş.” Anti stood up. His form was a bit clearer now. Not quite opaque, but JJ could see the colors of his clothes and body. Green lights took the place of his eyes. He leaned forward, and then somehow, though the table should’ve been too big, he was right in Jameson’s face. “False bravado doesn’t suit you, lit̴t̴l̨e o̕͟n̢e. Not when I can ta̷̷s̴͡t̷e your f͡ęa̷͢r͟͠.” A flash of teeth. “You know the truth I see, don̨'̶t͝ yo͡u͞? Your magick is j͟u̷s͡t ̸a̧̕ ̸͟li̕e̶. It’s just trying to f̧͡o͞o̧ļ ̧̡y̷̵̕o̷u̷r ͝f͝r͏i͡en͟d̨s̸̢ into thinking you’re more helpful than you a̵̜̠̭͉c̡̭̗̯͓͉͖̹t̸̘͓̰̦͠u̴̫͍̦̪̣̕a͏͈̬̗̖͎͓̤̖l̖̱̜̩̣ḷ̸͔̯̤̗͖̪͔y̛͔̭̬͠ are.”

“That’s—you’re lying,” Jameson stuttered, pushing his chair back.

“ Abo̵u͞t w̛h̵at͞?” Anti was fully visible now, just the slightest distortion running through his body. His eyes, normally blue, glowed green behind their mask of shadows. “Your magick? Oh, but it doesn’t r̛e҉̨a̧͏l͡l̷̛y͡ do anything, do̡e̴s̷ ̸i͏t? I l̷̤͇ͅe̦͇͇̠̮̤t̸̞͎͍ you win that time. And what are all these so-̶c̵a̛ll̢ed s͝y̵̨͠m̶b̵̨o̶̕l͟͡s͠ of protection doing for you? The room is surrounded, yet h͠͠e̶r͝͝e̕͢ I̛ ̡a̷͏̢m̕̕, not deterred in the least.” He smiled a twisted grin. “ No͡t ̸v͢e̷ry ̵ef̛fe͢ct͝ive.͏ If only you had r̸e͟a̢l̶̡͢ magic.”

Jameson tried to ignore his words, but in truth each one was a blow to his confidence. He’d set up protection around the homes of his friends…were they actually not working? Had Anti slipped through them as easily as a fish through water? Jack, Chase, and Schneep had trusted him. Had he…failed them?

Not wanting Anti to get another word in, he stood up, knocking over the chair in the process, and bolted to the door. Anti made no move to stop him. There was no need, as Jameson found out when he tried to turn the handle, then, frantically, attacked the door. It would not move. The doctor had described something like this in his hallucination he’d had at the hospital, but that was just that—an illusion of the mind. Anti must be stronger now, to affect reality in such a manner.

Jameson spun around, pressing his back to the door. Maybe he could find a way to get Anti out, if he was able to get to his supplies—and if it even worked. He doubted it.

“Well, we ca̴n’t h̢ave tha̷t,” Anti said, as if he knew what Jameson’s thought process was. “C̶o̸̡me̷ b͏ac̡k̢ ̷h̷͢e̴͟r̛ȩ̵̷.” A breaking happened, a distortion as the world broke into shades of red, blue, and green. And then Anti was there, in front of him. Jameson shrieked, instinctively trying to push him away. Instead, Anti grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him forward. Jameson fell into him, like the glitch truly wasn’t anything more than pixels. The buzz of white noise surrounded him. It filled his mind. He closed his eyes against the harsh static, and when he opened them, Anti had disappeared.

He would’ve relaxed a bit, but he could still hear the harsh drone. Not with his ears, like he should’ve. It was inside him. He could feel it in his eyes and in his throat. Of its own accord, his body walked back over to the table and sat down in the same chair Anti had been sitting in during the reading. And there it stayed, posture stiff, hands placed firmly by his sides. The white noise lessened a bit, and Anti appeared once again, distorted and crackling. He tilted his head. “Ye͞s̵, that seems to have worked as͟ ͠we͏l͝l̴ as I t̵h̨o͠ug̶ht͟ ̷it wou͟l̷d͝.”

“What did you do?” Jameson was surprised to find his mouth still worked, even if nothing else did.

“I call it p̱̲͞u̴̜̥͉̙̦͍̰͞p̰p̵̫̼̪͕̻͍̠̩e̷͉̝͓̫͓͠t̲̝̩ͅe̢͎̭̞̘̗͈͟ͅe͎̙̻̻̻̼̲̣ͅr̳̘̲i̷̟̤͉̥͢n̖̘̖͝g͍̬̮,” Anti said, wiggling his fingers like a sideshow magician. “It’s a tr̶ic͡k of mine I’ve been using since Halloween. If I keep working on it, o͝ne͠ d̕ay ̢you'̧l͠l ̵s͠tarţ to͞ l͏̢i̵̧k̵҉e̷͡ i̶t͠.”

“Never,” Jameson said through gritted teeth.

“ Th҉at'͢s͏ ̨no͡t for̸ yo̕u t͡o de̸ciḑe,” Anti growled. “Now where was I? Ah yes, your use̕l͟es̶snes͢s.” He grabbed Jameson by the chin, tilting his head up so he had to look the glitch in the eyes. “You’re just a re͝p̷l̕a͞cem͏ent͡, J̛a͏̷̧c̢k͝s̸̛o̵̸͠n. They lost their magician, and so they got a new̵ ͠ơn̵e. And, given your decoration in here, you would agree with me when I say the new is n̴̸͟e̷ve̡͠r̨ as g͡o̸o͢d as t͏h̕e̡̨͟ ̷o̷l͞d̵͞.”

“That’s your fault,” Jameson gasped. “It’s your fault their magician disappeared. Their hero, too. What happened to them? What are you doing to Marvin and Jackie?”

Anti laughed, blood spurting from his neck wound. “Oh, if̷ ͝o͞nl̨y̷ y̢o̸u ̛̕kn̛e͟w̢. I wonder if you’d wish they r̨ȩa҉ll͞y die̢d. Or maybe you’re happy here. Happy your wor͟t͠h̴less ͠litt͠le͠ head gets praise h̢e̡a̴pęd upon it that it doesn’t ҉de̶s̸e͡r̢ve.” Anti’s form flickered and glitched. He grimaced. “Seems I’m running out of time. Guess I’ll…s̵k͟͡i̴̴p̕ ̕t̛͢͞o ̡̧t̨h̸e ͏cha̡̧se͟.”

“What are you doing?” Anxiety was evident in Jameson’s voice. He tried to push through the static clouding his mind and holding him in place, but to no avail. It was like pushing against a balloon with super thick skin. Every attempt bounced him away.

“Now that won’t be a̛͞n͠y ̷̢f̧͞u̢n̢.” Anti leaned over him, the blood from his throat dripping down onto Jameson’s face. He couldn’t even blink like his instincts were shouting at him to. “Especially when you’re a͠b͢o͝ut͏ ̕tǫ f͡in̡ḑ͏͟ ͝o̧͞u̢̕t.” He tilted Jameson’s head even farther back. Something small and gleaming glitched into his hand. “ Wh̕y̴ don’t you c̵a͏l͡l f̡or h͢e͢l͠p, J̡͢a̵͟͠m͏̡ie?”

He wanted to. He really wanted to. But he couldn’t give the demon the satisfaction. He gritted his teeth and stayed silent.

“Come on…” Anti’s fingernails dug into Jameson’s skin. It felt like they were drawing blood. “It’s no̷̡͠ţ to͝o̶̕ ̛hard̸, is it? Call for help, I̡ ̢da̧͡r̴͞͡e ̛͝yo͢͟͢u. Cry into the dar͢k̕nes͝s͢. ‘Jack! Chase! Henrik! Somebody help!’ S̡ee̸ ̡w͡h̸a̛t̵ g̸͕͓͇̣̤̘̩o͏̹̗̪̹̞o̸̶̦̯̣d̸͖͕̫͍͇͖ͅ it ͝do̸es͟ ̷you͝!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to. “H-help,” he whimpered.

There was a moment of quiet. The electronic hum started filling the air again. Anti smiled with unrestrained delight. “ B͞u̢͞ţ ̨͢no͠͝bo̵̴d̸͞y ͏ça̴͡m͞͏ę͢͞,” he whispered. “What a s̵h̕a͠m̴̨e. I’m sure the ot̶her͡s̛ would l͡o̡̕͟v͏̡e̢ to see this.”

The static in Jameson’s mind increased, and a pressure grew in his throat. He tried to cry out, but his voice wouldn’t work anymore. Anti moved his hand, and the small, glinting object he held came into view. It was a needle. A simple sewing needle, threaded with green string. And Jameson knew what was going to happen. He wanted to scream, he wanted to beg, but he could do nothing.

The first pinprick didn’t hurt too much. But the sensation of something that wasn’t supposed to be there, of it being pulled through the hole made his skin crawl. And the next one was much the same. And the next. The strings tightened with each new puncture. Tears began flowing down his face. Anti seemed to enjoy that. He muttered constantly throughout the process, reminding him how he couldn’t do anything, how he was worthless, how his friends didn’t really care for him. Every word drove deeper through the static in his mind.

He didn’t know how long it took, but eventually Anti tied a knot to hold the string in place, then broke the rest of the thread off. He moved Jameson’s head side to side, admiring his work. He grinned. “ Let'̢s ̸s͡ęe͟ ͏w͞h̶a҉t̛ th̕ey̛ ̨think̛ ͏of͡ t̷̢͓͈͠h̴̪̮a̶̰̻͢ͅt,” he said, tapping the oozing piercings with his finger, stroking the string. There was a lot more blood than there should have been. He loved it. “Go sh̕ow̸ them your n͟͠e̸w ac͟͡ç̢e̷͝ss̛o̶͠ry̨.”

The static overwhelmed him, and the world broke apart. Anti faded away, the last thing to go being his glowing green eyes.

The world fixed itself, and Jameson found himself kneeling on the floor in a hall somewhere. It looked…medicinal, like a hospital. It wasn’t long before he realized that the static had disappeared. He could move again. Immediately, his hands flew to his mouth, clawing at the thread. It teared at his flesh, blood running down his chin. It was agonizing. It didn’t matter. He needed them out. It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? Why couldn’t he get them out? He had to keep trying. He couldn’t—he couldn’t—

“Jameson?”

He clasped his hands over his mouth. No, no he couldn’t let—how could he explain? He looked over his shoulder towards the familiar voice. It was the doctor, dressed in his coat and scrubs. Of course, this was a hospital. Schneep stared at Jameson. “What are you—?” Then he saw the blood dripping from between his fingers. Schneep’s eyes widened, and he squeaked. For a moment he looked like he wanted to run away, but instead he ran forward, kneeling beside Jameson. “What is it?! What happened?! Was it him?! Here, let me see.”

Jameson didn’t answer, just pressed his face even harder into his hands. When the doctor tried to pry them away so he could look at where the blood was coming from, he shook his head. Schneep looked at him, a strange light in his eyes. “Please. I cannot help if I don’t know what the problem is. Let me see, my friend.”

It was something about those last two words, coming from Schneep, the one he knew the least about, that made Jameson relax, and let the doctor take his hands away. Upon seeing the mess of blood and string, Schneep froze. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Silver tears lined his eyes. Then, without warning, he pulled Jameson into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeated the same words again and again, like saying them could change what had happened.

Jameson only let himself be held, and shed a few more silent tears.
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It was a chill night. Or was it early morning? It had been close to midnight when Schneep last checked the clock, but after JJ had appeared he hadn’t had the time to look. He’d been on the way to his office, ready to gather his things and go home for the night, only to turn the corner and see Jameson kneeling on the floor, blood coming from his mouth. He immediately dropped everything, dragging him to the nearest operating room.

And now, Schneep was outside on his apartment balcony, pacing back and forth. It was cold, but he didn’t care. He had to think.

“Hey, doc.”

Schneep turned and saw Chase walk out onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind him. His eyes were rimmed with red. “Hello Chase,” Schneep said dully. “Is Jack still inside?”

Chase nodded. “Yeah, he’s still talking with JJ…or, uh, talking to.” He leaned against the closed door. “He took one of your notebooks and pens. But…JJ isn’t using it.”

Jameson had been quiet. Not that he had a choice anymore, but he hadn’t attempted to communicate in any way. He didn’t nod or shake his head when asked yes or no questions, and he avoided eye contact with any of the others. If he did happen to catch their eyes, he teared up and looked away. Yet, he didn’t want to be alone either. He reached out and clung tight to them when they looked like they might leave.

The one question he answered? When Schneep asked if Anti was responsible, he nodded vigorously.

“Maybe he is not ready yet,” Schneep sighed. “I would not blame him.”

Chase moved position, now leaning on the balcony railing. Schneep stopped his pacing and joined him. Chase hesitated for a moment, then asked “Are you sure you can’t—”

“I tried, Chase,” Schneep snapped. “I broke my best pair of scissors and dulled half the supply of scalpels in the hospital. It is not normal string like it appears.”

“Okay, doc, calm down. I didn’t—I didn’t mean it that way.” Chase’s voice broke. “You’re doing—you did all you can, I get it. I’m just…it’s fucking horrible, man. I can’t believe…I thought shit like this only happened in horror movies.” He gazed out over the quiet city. “I can’t even find a reason,” he whispered.

“Anti does not need a reason,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “He is a monster.” His grip on the railing tightened. “And the world would be better off without monsters.” Why Jameson, of all people? He was harmless. Maybe that was why. Schneep turned, looking straight at Chase. “If we ever find a way, if we ever get a chance, I am going to kill him.”

Chase considered this. “What about Jackie and Marvin? Only he knows what’s happening to them. We need to get them back, doc. We can’t kill him until we do.”

Schneep paused. “I suppose you are right. Although I wonder…” He turned away again, looking back out over the dark city. “If Anti is capable of something like this, then…if we get them back, what shape will they be in?”

Chase had no answer for that. So the two of them stood in silence, watching the darkness of night gradually recede. If only all the darkness of the world would disappear so easily.