Traitor's Moon

Unlocks

• Weapon Scottfield Brawler Level 2 · Free
• Weapon Berthier 1892 Riposte Level 3 · Free
• Weapon New Army Level 4 · Free
• Weapon Slate Level 5 · Free
• Ammo Dumdum Ammo Level 7 · Free
• Ammo FMJ Ammo Level 9 · Free
• Ammo Penny Shot Level 11 · Free
• Ammo Slug Level 13 · Free

Legendary skins

• Legendary Eclipse Level 8 · Free
• Legendary Moonflower Level 10 · Free
• Legendary Ochenkov's Heart Level 12 · Free
• Legendary Somnus Level 14 · Free

Items

• CHARY'S IMPLIED CONTRACT Event Points Boost (50%) · 2 hours Level 1 · Free
• CHARY'S IMPLIED CONTRACT Event Points Boost (50%) · 2 hours Level 6 · Free

The Moon, in all her glory, was not immune to the Sculptor. Every full moon her immortal light would fall on New Orleans and the crickets and fireflies would dance in the spotlight. But just as the Moon has dictated the turn of tides for millennia, the Sculptor began to dictate the Moon’s influence on Earth. The Moon’s light cast a spotlight onto people whose hearts were already starting to become twisted by the Sculptor. Mother caused harm to child, brother betrayed brother, and others let their minds wander into madness and desperation. Those who knew the power of both the Sculptor and the Moon began to plot and use the twisting of people’s hearts to their advantage. This is one such story about a man named Mr. Orwell Chary.

Mr. Orwell Chary had quickly made a name and a home for himself as the new Administrator of the Louisiana AHA. He had easily gained the trust of both Hunters and Finch alike and was often seen as a kind man willing to do anything to stop the scourge that had taken over New Orleans. So, when he asked Becher Hess for help in an experiment that would make more powerful weapons for Hunters to use, and maybe help smite the Sculptor himself, Hess was ready to jump at the chance for glory and the compensation Mr. Chary always gave.

Hess followed Mr. Chary deep into a patch of woods that opened into a small clearing. An abandoned home by a pond and a willow tree was the backdrop for the day’s work. It was an oddly calm place for what Mr. Chary was about to do.

Mr. Chary led Hess just behind the house to a large patch of dirt where the grass had long died from the Administrator’s work. Carefully, Mr. Chary took his cane and began to draw patterns in the dirt, symbols of an ancient dialect familiar only to him. When the symbols had made a circle, Mr. Chary whipped the dirt from his cane and nodded to Becher Hess.

“If you would kindly do the honors.” Mr. Chary beckoned Hess over.

With a nod, Hess pulled four strange candles from a bag the Administrator had asked him to carry. Dozens of small hands carved into the wax reached for the wick as if it would grant them salvation.

There would be no salvation here.

One by one Hess placed and lit the candles atop the symbols. Every time the light from the flame flickered, Hess had to do look again to make sure that the clawing and writhing of the hands was just a trick of the light.

“What’s next Chary?” The question from Becher stopped the Administrator in his tracks. Behind his crimson tea shades Mr. Chary’s eyes bored holes into Hess that sent a shiver down his spine.

“Mr. Chary. Sorry.” Hess meekly corrected. Mr. Chary put back on his gentle guarded smile.

“It happens, dear sir. I trust it won’t happen again.” Mr. Chary jovially begins. “The next part is simple. Hold this gun and sit in the center, then we have to wait for the Moon.”

Soon the clouds pulled back their curtain to present the Moon to Mr. Chary and Hess. The light somehow made the symbols start to glow a soft white and the candles’ flame turned a shade of purple that Becher couldn’t quite comprehend.

“No matter what,” Mr. Chary warned, “Do not let the gun go.”

“Why would I-“ And before Hess could finish, the weapon in the Hunter’s hands became white hot. Becher looked up at Mr. Chary, begging for permission to drop it, but the Administrator gave none. Hess began to groan and scream over the sound of searing flesh. But still, loyal to a fault, the Hunter held onto the gun and waited for Mr. Chary to give him permission to let go. Mr. Chary promised him good money. Mr. Chary promised him power that would grant glory in the Hunt. It was worth it. Was it worth it?

Kevin Linus watched from the window of his home by the pond and the willow tree. The screams had woken him up, as they did every full Moon, and sent him into a panic. The man with the cane and the red tea glasses had come with another person, had sat them down in the non-familiar dirt circle, and made them light the candles. Had them screaming in pain and waiting for permission to stop. It was in this moment that he wished that his mother and father were alive; surely, they would have shooed the man away and helped his victims. But what could a boy of 14 do when he barely had enough strength to hunt squirrels to eat? The screaming turned to whimpers, and Kevin waited to see what would happen next.

The men were close enough to the window that when Becher Hess finally stood, Kevin could see that the Hunter’s hands were gone. Flesh had turned to liquid and was dripping off bone and tendon that were barely holding structure. Kevin couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes as the man painfully took the pistol in one boney hand and placed the barrel to his temple.

Kevin covered his ears as a shot rang out in the night. A glorious spray of blood erupted from Hess’ temple before he unceremoniously fell to the ground. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, Mr. Chary moved the body around with his cane before bending down to grab the pistol. He held it up to the Moon to let its light highlight each part and Kevin saw that the air around it vibrated with heat. Despite that, Mr. Chary held the gun comfortably in his hand and observed it a while longer before slipping it into his coat pocket.

The Administrator once again took his cane and started writing symbols on the ground which Kevin craned his neck to try and see. The only thing he could really make out was a halo of strange scribbles that Mr. Chary wrote around Hess’ head. The man then tapped on the Hunter’s forehead three times and the man sunk into the earth, the ground like a snake savoring a meal. After about a minute, it was as if Becher Hess was never there.

For the rest of that night and the night after, young Kevin watched as Mr. Orwell Chary brought Hunter after Hunter to his home. The Administrator would draw the symbols, the Hunter would sit with the weapon, and they would all burn for Mr. Chary’s sake. Three other Hunters shared the same fate as Hess, taking the gun to their temple or mouth and shooting themselves. All of them sank. From that first night only one person, as far as Kevin could tell, was successful during the Administrator’s ritual.

Mary Ochenkov was an experienced Hunter who had gone into the bayou countless times for the sake of her sick husband’s medicine. Mr. Chary had promised her that if this ritual was a success, he could not only provide her with money, but also the contact of a doctor well-versed in the effects of Scarlet Fever in adults. It may have been the drive to save her husband that made the flames envelop her body, and it may have been that drive that left her without a single burn on her skin.

The next night Kevin watched from his window as Mr. Chary waited in that dirt circle. The Administrator had already let another body sink into the ground, but instead of going to fetch another Hunter he waited. Soon enough, Mary Ochenkov came back with a bag in hand and tears streaming down her vacant eyes.

“Welcome back Mrs. Ochenkov, did you bring the thing you cherish most?” Mr. Chary asked in his usual pleasant tone. A sob and a nod were Mary’s only response.

“Then if you would.” Mr. Chary gestured to the center of the circle and Mary plodded into the dirt. She knelt and Kevin craned his neck to see what would come from the soaking cloth bag.

Mary’s hands were gentle and deft as she scooped up a heart and held it towards Mr. Chary. Wails of anguish rang deep in Kevin’s ears as he wretched at the sight. Even though he had now seen several men and women end their lives in that dirt circle, Mary was like a banshee and her pain hit Kevin in waves and made him sick.

Mr. Chary’s long-nailed fingers took the heart and observed it in the Moon light, smiling.

“How Ironic,” he said in gentle glee.

It seemed like the Ochenkovs were the lucky charm Mr. Chary needed for his experiments that night. Two other Hunters after Mary got out of the fire unburned and in a catatonic state, they marched off into the night to bring back “the thing they cherish most.” Mr. Chary shivered in joy at the possibilities they’d return with.

Mr. Chary carefully rolled the heart in his gloved palm as he moved to the center of the circle. With his cane, he drew a smaller circle with phases of the Moon and unceremoniously threw the heart into the middle. Just like all the Hunters before it, the heart sank into the ground. Unlike the Hunters before it, the circle reacted, and something returned. The flames of the candles grew high and the glowing symbols on the ground were disrupted by something sprouting from the earth.

First came the spheres, a twist of branches and roots from box elders and red chokeberry trees. They glowed a soft smokey light that somehow caused a panic in Kevin as he watched from the window of his home. Then came the skulls all sharing the same body and shrouded in cloth. The bones rattled as they settled into place by the Administrator for only a few moments, then glided off leaving a skinny path in its wake. The spheres soon followed, tumbling off in every direction. Only one small sphere remained that Mr. Chary picked up to observe. That smokey glow curled into the man as if to caress him, to invite him to become something more, but what could something so weak offer him? He crushed the sphere in hand and the twigs turned to nothing. Mr. Chary perked up at the faint scream that pricked his ears as that soft light was snuffed out. He could swear he just heard Hess. No matter, it was a fine night’s work and time for Mr. Chary to retire and write down his observations. He had another long night ahead of him tomorrow and tasks that absolutely had to be done.

Tomorrow, he would talk to the boy.

Knock, knock, knock.

Kevin woke with start at the gentle taps at his door. After what he witnessed last night- the heart, the burnings, the spheres, and skulls- the boy had taken one of his mother’s quilts and curled into the corner to sleep. He hoped that when he woke up it would have been a terrible nightmare. He had gone to sleep every night after his parents died hoping that same thing. But his parents were still dead, and when Kevin Linus blearily went to open the door it was none other than Mr. Chary.

“Well good day young man, would either of your parents be home?” Mr. Chary greeted the boy with his usual gentle smile. It sent shivers down Kevin’s spine.

“No, and we don’t want to buy anything. Have a good day.” Kevin tried to quickly dismiss the man and close the door, but the end of Mr. Chary’s cane blocked him from shutting it completely.

“By the state of your home,” Mr. Chary began as he looked behind the boy, “I would guess that your parents have been gone a long time and won’t be coming back. No wonder you get to stay up all night.” Kevin’s eyes grew wide at the revelation that the man knew he was watching him all along.

“Since you’re so curious, would you like to help me tonight? I’m sure you’ll get a better look up close and I can make it worth your time.” Mr. Chary pulled a small pouch out of his coat and handed it to the boy. Kevin cautiously took it and looked inside to see a small bundle of bills. The boy wasn’t going to stand there and count it, but surely there was enough for him to stop surviving off small game for at least half a year.

“Will what I have to do hurt me?” Kevin asked.

A smile creeped onto the Administrator’s face.

That night Mr. Chary taught Kevin the basics of the ritual. He gave Kevin his cane and showed him how to etch the symbols into the dirt and light the candles with their many hands. The Administrator told Kevin why they were here: In order to eradicate the corruption that has wrapped its fingers around New Orleans, alternative methods to science needed to be explored. Mr. Chary explained that all his volunteers came to him looking to help end the terror. They were all heroes willing to sacrifice anything to save the people still left in the area.

“But some of them die, and some of them are hurt…” Kevin said. The hurt ones, like Mary, were who Kevin worried for. The two successful Hunters from the night before came back with body parts surely from people they cared for. Both Hunters were shocked to see the boy standing next to Mr. Chary and avoided Kevin’s eyes in shame. He had to hide wiping away tears several times as they went back home with a weapon that cost them everything.

Mr. Chary tossed the parts, a woman’s head and a pair of hands, into the center of the circle before beckoning Kevin over to draw the phases of the Moon.

“They all knew what they were signing up for, more or less.” Mr. Chary replied as the head and hands sank into the dirt. Kevin didn’t have time to walk away from the center of the circle as the Moon appeared from the cloud cover and the candles’ light became pillars of fire.

Mr. Chary backed away and watched with fascination as Kevin was enclosed into a tower of fire. Countless glowing spheres and skulls on stick bodies rose from the earth and quickly scampered off into the distance. The fire licked at Kevin’s skin and then embraced him. Someone was holding him, protecting him from the bad outside that circle. The boy leaned into it, relishing its somehow gentle warmth, and finding solace in it. He knew it wasn’t his mother or father, but he could pretend it could be just for a moment.

From outside the inferno Mr. Chary heard the wailing of many: of Hess, of Ochenkov, and all the others who had sunk, but on the inside Kevin heard whispers and the truth.

When Kevin understood, the fire and all its warmth died down and the boy appeared before Mr. Chary completely unscathed. The Administrator was as perplexed as he was excited at the turn of events.

“Kevin my boy! Tell me, what-“ Without so much as a grunt of pain, Mr. Chary fell to the ground and cradled his knee. He’d just been shot.

“You’re hurting her. Your experiments are doing nothing but hurting the Moon.” Kevin said looking down at the man. In the fire’s whispers he learned about Mr. Chary and what he was. He learned about why he had come every night to the dirt circle behind Kevin’s house.

“You’re not trying to help anyone but yourself!” Kevin pointed the gun he had been given by the Moon at Mr. Chary’s head. The Administrator slowly got up and composed himself. He slowly knelt down and pulled the bullet from his knee before putting it into his coat pocket.

“Now now Kevin, even if that were true what can a boy like you do?” Mr. Chary laughed, but it was all a facade. The wound in his knee was healing slower than usual and something told him even the remedies Hunters used wouldn’t help him fix this.

“I’ll shoot you right here and now so that no one can ever get hurt by you again.” Kevin said before firing once more. Mr. Chary casually stepped to the side of the bullet and smiled at the boy. He didn’t see a reality where he could convince Kevin to join his side and he would not die at the hands of a mere child. Besides, a new anomaly had now shown itself to the Administrator.

“It seems this experiment is over. But we will meet again, and hopefully you’re more willing to cooperate Kevin.” Mr. Chary smiled his gentle smile at the boy and began to walk away. The boy shot at the Administrator three more times, but he simply glided left and right to avoid the shots. Before he knew it, Kevin was alone with a gun in his hand and a mission on his mind.

Kevin didn’t like men like Mr. Chary, the kind that took advantage of people. The kind that took advantage of his parents’ kindness and drove them to their death. He’d go all over Louisiana if he had to, if it meant he could stop Mr. Chary from taking advantage of anyone ever again.

Kevin stared at his home by the willow tree one last time. He thought of all the memories of growing up there. Of his parents watching him run around the house when he was smaller, of climbing the trees in the forest nearby, of the comfort a winter night by the hearth brought. He would see the home again, at least he hoped he would, but there were things that needed to be done.

When he was in that pillar of flames, he heard the Moon begging to him. She was already doing all she could to stop the strange influence that was already bound to the earth. But that man, or whatever he was, played with her current weakness and was making things worse. He needed to be stopped, and the only way the Moon knew how was to turn Mr. Chary’s ritual against him somehow. In a way it was providence that Kevin no longer had parents; he no longer had something he cherished most, which meant he could cherish the Moon.

With the Moon dipping below the horizon, Kevin turned away from everything he knew and walked off in the same direction Mr. Chary escaped to. The Moon had her champion, and he was off to slay the demon.