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#3
MAR 09 |
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“One More Death, More or Less” Part Two
Chapter Six. The Coven
I took my time that evening getting ready, soaking in a long hot shower as long as there was something resembling warmth in the water. Then I wrapped a rather comfy hotel robe around and headed for my briefcase stacked up amongst the few pieces of luggage I had brought for the trip. Though I might be related to an ancient race of monsters is no reason not to stay on top of the latest electronic toys and gizmos out there. So I tossed the files off the table to the floor and ran the power cable for my laptop. A creative stringing of the phone cord and a little cussing, and I had all the information I needed. Frank had been nice enough to leave an amazing database back at the home office, triple referenced and double backed up. The wonders of modern technology and a few clicks of the touchpad, and I was in. A few more clicks, and I had all the information that I needed. It’s a Hell of a lot better than rummaging through books that would make Drac look like a spring chicken, and easier on the lungs.
The hair and chicken feet popped up all kinds of references, but one particular caught my interest. So I got dressed and headed out to the rental, making my way through Friday night traffic to the police station. I figured, they celled me in for this shindig, they would be happy to help out. My mistake. The moment I mentioned underground groups and possible witchcraft, everyone and their kid brother did their best imitation of a dummy, passing me on from one office to the next, no one talking much to me. So much for trust amongst law enforcement officials. These people were making getting a tax audit look like a day at the beach with your favorite drink.
After about three hours of this, I was pretty well fed up with it all, and forced my way into the chief’s office. He looked up, startled by my sudden appearance, and dropped the phone he had been chatting on. “Is there something I can do to help you Mr. King?”
I swung around the only other chair in the tiny office and took a seat. “Yeah, there is. You and your police officers can quit with the bullshit and just pass on the information I’m looking for. This ring around the rosy was fun, but that stopped being fun about fifteen minutes ago.”
“And what exactly are you looking for here? The case you were called in on was closed over a year and a half ago. What good is it to uncover old wounds?”
I ran a hand through my hair, and settled back in the chair, bringing groans from the overstressed metal backing. “I was called here for a reason, and I’m doing that. I need to know if there have been any reports of occult activity in the last fifteen years or so. And before you ask, yes it does have something to do with my case. So you can either hand over the information I need, or I can just pack up, head home, and file a report about obstruction of justice. This might be a small town, but you still have to follow the rules here.”
He finally got the phone to the hook, and settled back as well, opening a drawer and tossing over his desk a good inch thick stack of files bundled together, a three and a half inch floppy taped to the cover of the first. Then he slid closed the drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and zippo. Tapping a single smoke out of the battered pack, lit the cigarette and blew some blue gray smoke at the ceiling. “You’ve been digging up some ghosts that this town has been happy to bury for a long time. I may not agree with this, but the Commissioner had called ahead when you started your little rampage among my people. Someone wants you to finish the job, though I would rather escort you to the city limits and say sayonara to your spooky work.”
“But your hands are tied, is that it?” I grinned at his dramatic shrug of nonchalance. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not too fond of leaving my stomping grounds to handle someone else’s problems. But like the song says, you can’t always get what you want...”
“But if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need,” he replied, and blew a few more smoke rings at the ceiling. “Do your thing, I don’t care anymore. But step on my people’s toes again, and I’ll haul you in for interfering in police work. Deal?”
“Deal. I’ll get out of your hair. Have a nice night.” I took the folders with me, returned the chair to its spot against the wall. Out the door I went, and didn’t look back or open a single file until I had gotten back to my hotel room.
Two calls to room service to freshen up the bar, and I had perused most of the pertinent information that I was going to get out of the files. Someone had been working on this before, and I was the lucky recipient of a collected works of occult on a handy floppy. Though this was all well and good, and made my life easier since I didn’t have to shuffle through reams of mindless reports, but the conclusion that was drawn up was not very happy to see.
So I checked again. And again. And for the next four or so hours trying to disprove what some paper pusher had come up with a few years ago, apparently because they had run out of things to do on Saturday nights at the office. But there was no way around it. There was a serious problem in this little sleepy hollow, and its language was the occult. Why can’t these things crop up in nice places, like Tahiti?
The next night finally came, since I had managed to burn up the other. After explaining to the front desk that I would be remaining in the city for a few more days after all, and a quick call to the car rental shop checking up if my credit card was managing to withstand the pressure, I headed out, carrying a list of about an even dozen of addresses. They were all spots where there was the possibility of occult activity. It was pie in the sky to hope to just stumble on the local occult outlet branch for the area, but I have seen stranger things happen. And before you ask, yes I did check the phonebook. You never can tell.
After three stops and three misses, I was getting rather fed up with all of the stoplights in the downtown area heading to number four. It was in the neighboring town, about three times the size of the one I was staying in, but it was still nothing more than a spot on the map. At least they had a Denny’s right? There was a building in their downtown, that had burned to the foundations about four or so years ago, but the walls had remained so it had been renovated in the city’s big revival of the area. So I get to break into something that resembles an old western bank that’s now a carpet storage building. I’m sure that there’s something deep and intense about that, but it’s beyond me to understand.
I could have just misted under the door or through a window, but what would be the detective work in that? Not to mention that I like to hold onto whatever I can of my humanity. Though I had a bit of a moment when I thought that I had set off a silent alarm, but I lucked out. A little poking around, nothing there. Nothing there but a strange taste in my mouth that was all too familiar. Way too familiar. The office showed nothing, and neither did the showroom floor, so I headed for the roof, and there it was. Bingo, touchdown, and the crowd goes wild.
I pulled out my handy dandy flashlight, and took a nice long look at the tiling that made up most of the roof. Unlike most flat roofed buildings, someone had taken the time to cover up the tarpaper with a very intricate and well done mosaic. Whoever did this should have been published, thought the content was slightly disturbing. Done in black and smoky gray tile across the roof was a pentagram and a cross. Now that would not have bothered me so much, but the fact that there was still a bit of something smoldering in the center. Watching my step on the slick ceramic tiles, I worked my way over to the center to take a closer look.
Someone was sick, and I mean really sick, like should be locked up in a little rubber room with one of those wonderful coats that make you hug yourself all the time kind of sick. Covering my mouth with the corner of my coat to cut down on the smell, I squatted down and shone the light beam over the mess. I could make out burnt fur and bones, not enough of anything to come to a decision on what it might me. But the blood splattered here and there made a serious case that one, it had been big, and two it did not go out quietly. Wonderful. As if dealing with dead teenagers, annoying cops, and outsider mentality from the natives, there was a Black Coven in the area, and they were active.
I really wish stuff like this would turn up in places like Tahiti.
Chapter Seven. The Nature
Just standing there like the local idiot, I stared at the pentagram until it felt like it was burned into my retinas. Not me, not me kept echoing in my head, like that was going to make it all just vanish into the thin air. But it didn’t, so I took to the wind, heading for my rental that I had parked around the corner out of sight. Not bothering to return to mortal shape, I just misted through the air conditioner vents, and took my place behind the wheel of the car, then quickly cranked the engine and headed out of the city. I was considering returning to my hotel room and packing up, planning to get the hell out of Dodge so to speak, when it happened.
The skies just opened up, and something resembling the wrath of God nearly washed my car off the road into the ditch nearby. I had seen some odd weather before, but I distinctly remember there being no clouds when I was standing on the top of the building in the pentagram. Waitaminut. In the pentagram. Oh no, I would not have been that stupid, would I? There was no way, considering my training and expertise, that I would be crazy enough to stand in the middle of a black coven’s ritual site and not take the slightest precaution against disturbing anything, right? I’m a paid professional after all, I do this kind of stuff for a living. So I’m gonna pretend that this is perfectly normal weather, and get back to my hotel room and pack. That’s the plan, and I’m sticking to it.
But the weather had other ideas. As I made my way to the highway at a snail’s pace, trying to get back to the town my room was located, myself and the few other drivers crazy enough to be out at this time of night had a slight problem. The rain, if it was possible, actually got even worse, and I couldn’t see three feet out the windshield, even with the wipers running at warp speed. The road was already under about half a foot of water, and it looked like there was not going to be a break in it. Keeping one eye on the road, I turned on the radio, hoping to pick up a weather report or something that would give me an idea how long this was going to last.
Instead my ears were greeted with the sound of recorded laughter booming out of the speakers. Wincing, I reached for the volume control.
“I wouldn’t do that...,” the voice on the radio spoke, and I calmly pulled my hand back and put it no the wheel. The sound of the laughter died away, leaving nothing but white static humming in my ears and the sound of the downpour beating on the car.
“Glad I got your attention there. Sorry for the melodrama, but you freaked when I tried to talk to you earlier.” The voice sounded like it was bubbling from the bottom of a lake, but I could understand it, even through the twangy accent. It was a male voice, one that I had never heard. But I had a good idea who was pulling the stunt with my radio.
“Krystopher? Or do you prefer Krys?” Hey, I know that the electronics are not designed to work both ways in a car radio, but I had a feeling that this conversation would be different for so many reasons.
“Krys will work. Look, I don’t have much time. You have got to stop them, or turn them in, or something. They’re gonna kill again tonight!”
“Whoa, slow down. Who’s going to kill who? And where is Trace?” I had to get some answers fast, because it sounded like he only had so much power to talk to me like this.
“The coven! That’s how they gather strength, through death. Trace is caught, she finally gave up the fight, so it’s just me now....” So he was fighting against being absorbed by the coven. Poor Trace, she was probably gone forever now.
“So this storm is from them? They plan to kill someone tonight and take them as well? Who is it?” No time for levity, I had to work fast.
“Storm...out of nowhere... coming... fast for...” The channel started to fuzz out, like I was going out of range. Hurriedly, I pulled to a stop and threw it into reverse, trying to catch the sound of his voice again.
“Who? Who are they after? Krys, talk to me!”
“Run… coming… want…” And the radio went dead. I spend a few moments doing the really original thing of yelling at the radio and fiddling with the volume, but no luck. Whatever he had been trying to tell me, it was lost forever, unless he could find another way to communicate. And the odds of that happening in time were up there with me winning the Louisiana Lottery.
Then the entire sky lit up, illuminating everything in a blue glow. That was some seriously strong lightning, and I put the car back in gear and tried to make my way further along the flooded highway without ending up in a culvert from the water flow. The rain started to back of ever so slowly, and I hoped that it would just go away.
Then something slammed into the windshield, covering me in bits of safety glass, and I covered my face with my hands in an instinctual response to flying glass. You try to stare down something like that without flinching, and I’ll sell you some oceanfront property in Colorado. Shaking off the glass, I saw whatever it was swinging towards the remains of the windshield, and I ducked down for this shot, covering my back with yet more glass. I took to mist, scattering glass shards all over the upholstery of the car with a tinkling crash, and got the hell out of the car which had also stopped running. Curiouser.
Outside, I returned to my human form, instantly soaked to the bone from the deluge from the skies. There were three cops coming towards me, guns pulled and one toting a baseball bat. I guess I know which one is making sure I don’t get my deposit back on the rental. I pulled my own gun out, carefully hiding it in the folds of my overcoat. Wonderful things, modern guns. Most will fire even underwater. Technology at it’s best, as far as I’m concerned.
“Hello officers! Can I help you?” Yeah, I know that talking to them was going to about as useful as trying to ask for a tax cut, but I was hoping that it would throw them off balance, if nothing else. In response, the two with firearms took aim and opened up, forcing me back a pace or two from the violence of the impacts. So much for that idea, next time I’ll just offer doughnuts.
Running to the side, I lost my traction in the ankle deep water and went skidding, luckily managing to keep a grip on the gun, as I rolled and opened fire on the cops. Mangling the law is something I usually avoid, but with the stench of gunpowder and the flash of muzzle light, I don’t think they were hoping I would buy tickets to the police ball. Call it a hunch.
Just about then, the sky opened back up, and lightning flashed just about everywhere, actually blasting holes in the concrete and setting buildings on fire. Damn, this is gonna hurt. The sound wave from the blasts blew me back into my rental car, leaving an amazingly big dent into the rear quarter panel. Even more wonderful. Taking to the air, I leave all of the cop yahoos behind, as well as the worst effects of the weather. This is really sucking, and I’m heading to the only place that I have not checked out properly, due to simple fear.
Lake drive anyone?
Chapter Eight. The Water
Yep, the lake is just about as entertaining as it was when I can here the first night out, but here I am, soaked to the bone. Yes, soaked, apparently this rain is not natural per say, and it’s sticking with me even when I shift over to mist. Now I know how the other guys felt when we would pull a stakeout on a rainy night. And to think I would make fun of them. Memo to myself, no more joking about being wet, it’s not funny anymore. Anyways, I’m at the oh so attractive lake, watching the ink black water rush under that fateful bridge. What I’m looking for out here is beyond me, but considering that most criminals have this superstition about retuning to the scene of a crime, I figure I’ve got a bit of breathing room until they try to take me out again.
Okay, what do we have here so far. I have a Black Coven active in the area, cops renovating my rental car, a storm out of nowhere loaded with water that actually sticks to me, and two dead kids. It all leads back to the two dead kids, imagine that. I’m going to strangle my friend who thought this would be a nice change of pace for me. Ha ha ha, very funny, next time he can send be some tickets to Maui or something. As it is, I’m standing here turning into a sponge. Though legend states that I don’t handle sinking in running water too well, it’s all a myth. But us undead do have a slight problem if we get too waterlogged. It’s called going squishy, and it’s not a pretty sight. Luckily it takes getting submerged for about a week or so to set in, so I’m in the clear.
Just about then, when I’m pondering whether or not I’m gonna imitate a loofa, the sound of an engine begins to come closer up the road, towards me. Oh what fun, here we go again. Headlights cut through the downpour, but instead of following history, the car pulls to a stop, all four doors opening and letting figures out into the rain. Great, a few more people and we can start a baseball team out here. Three of them remain by the car, only one approaches me. As the figure comes closer, I can finally make out the face of who it is.
Will wonders never cease. It’s the chief of police. I guess we know who was in charge of sending the boys in blue on my undead ass. “Nice night out sir. Come to see the sights? Right over there is lover’s bend, and the bridge that has so much history.” If you can’t blind them with intelligence, as the saying goes.
“History, Mr. King? You have no idea. Almost one hundred years ago, there was a mass hanging off of that bridge. Oh, it’s been rebuilt over the years, but the memory is still there. The body count is at eighty-six. You will make eighty-seven.” He seemed genuinely upset about thinking of me dying. How touching, break out the tissues honey, I think I’m going to cry. Not like anyone would notice in this weather.
“Problem chief. You can’t kill me. In case your boys didn’t radio in, guns and baseball bats are not going to even slow me down.” The other three figures are doing something by the car, but I can’t make it out. Whatever, concentrate on the idiot at hand.
“We knew the day you came into town that you were not mortal, and we’ve been preparing. It’s high time your kind of evil was removed from the face of our earth.” He gestured to the three remaining at the car, and they began to approach. Hold on here, I’m evil? I have a small problem with that, I’m not the one running around offering sacrifices to demons and killing innocent bystanders! I think what we have here is a failure to communicate, and everyone operate in the same continuum.
The others stood in the light offered by the headlights, all raising their hands in sync. Next thing I see, something big comes out of the water behind me. Big, I mean big, no you don’t understand, I mean Big! I did that better part of valor thing, and took off out of there like that proverbial bat outta Hell.
Freeze-frame. Maybe you think I’m doing a cowardly thing, running in the face of danger. Well, let me explain some things to you. I’ve faced down Lilin, demons, time travelers, and wizards. I’m one of the nine that hold up the walls that protect this plane from absolute chaos and the junk that lives there. Trust me, they would bring down property values all over the place. Though the membership has changed over the years, it’s still an important job, with lots of creepy things I deal with on a night to night basis. Oh, and in case you forgot, I’m undead, with all the baggage that comes with that little title. So it takes a bit to get me moving away from a situation. Like the coming of a major demon. Or the end of the world. Or how Blade would get when he was on a ‘occult bad!’ fit.
Well, it’s not the end of the world and I have no idea where Blade is hanging out right now, so it must be the other one. Major demon alert! Please return seat backs and tray tables to their upright and locked positions, stick your head between your knees, and kiss you undead ass good-bye. I had to get out of there in one big hurry, and I really didn’t want to get inhaled, so it was to batwings for me. I fought against the wind and rain for a bit, since it had been a while since I took the furry sky express, but it’s like riding a bike, you never forget forever.
You might be saying, if he’s taken on all those big occult bad guys, why is he exiting stage left. Well, you see, I was never really alone. There was usually some kind of backup, and that’s what I was heading off to get. Or at least some major firepower on my side.
Waitaminut. Firepower. I might be wrong, but I think I’ve got an idea.
Chapter Nine. Big Finale
Once more, with feeling I think, and I head back to the College. Sound like a round about way to accomplish something? Well, considering that I want nothing to do with Whatever That Was that they summoned, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Actually, I have a plan. If this works, I will be up for some major awards from the stop the bad guys guild. If this works. I hope this works. If I had a soul, I would pray, but that’s not the point. As hard as I work, and no soul to back me up. Seems pretty one sided if you ask me, but then again it could be worse. I guess. I’m digressing. Bad me.
Anywho, back to what I was trying. Since I could not access the bridge anymore, where was the only other place that I had seen Krys? No, not me hotel room, too many nonreflective surfaces. I read that in a comic once. And they only visited me because I had their picture I think. And that is nicely tucked away in my trench coat, which is soaked. I’m soaked too, and it’s making for a cold and wet flight, but I show up at the College in record time for me. You try to fly in weather like this and see how far you get before your arms give out. I kind of fall from the sky to the pavement, but roll with the impact to hit a car. So much for grace and dexterity. I think I failed my dex check. What, you never played role playing games? And I thought I lived in a small world. Oh, for the sights of Boston right about now.
Through the doors I go, slamming glass panes into the wall, but it’s that wire mesh stuff and I’m not worried. I’m looking for something, and if I have to open every locker I will. But the police tape helps me out on this one. Remind me to send the police a nice thank you note after this is all done. I find the kids’ lockers right next to each other, and try to open them up. Whether it’s welding or age, the damn things will not open. So I put a little oomph behind it. I’m not fond of my strength, as it’s unnatural, but this is not the time to get into a philosophical debate with myself. This is an act now ask questions later moment. So, I pull with the strength of the dead. Actually, it’s undead but who am I to argue with how it works.
The lockers fly open, and suddenly I’m buried to my ankles in old books and reports and papers. So much for the dead cat theory I figure, and start rummaging through the mess. I’m looking for something, that was not found on the bodies, that was not buried with them, and was not found in their homes. Rummage rummage rummage this reminds me of my room at home, everything there but unfindable. Toss papers out of the way, books go flying, and then...
“You forgot to look somewhere.” The voice I remember, considering that I had it in my radio not too long ago. I turn around, and there he stands, all squishy and gunky.
“Where is it? I know I need it, where is it?” I raise my hands in frustration, and turn to Krys as I rant. “No one can locate it, but it was in the picture with the two of you. Where is it? And will it do what I’m hoping for?”
“It will work, I’ve been talking to some of the other souls here because of them. And it’s at the bottom of the lake.” Then he vanishes just like a ghost. Waitaminut, he is a ghost. And it’s at the lake? Oh great, that’s where Oh My God It’s Big is hanging out right now.
“Crash!” Unless It followed me here. Ah Hell, I gotta move faster. Running was never my style, but if the shoe fits I guess, and out the door I go, once more to wings since it’s faster than the mist. The rain has not let up, and the rain now smells like Frank’s sock drawer when the fog rolls in. Ugh with a capital Yuck. I’m gonna need a hot shower after this is all done. But back to the lake I go, yippee I should build my summer home out there.
I get there about five paces before the It gets there, and change in midair to human to dive into the water. Bats don’t swim very well, and I’m going to need hands. Sploosh into the blackness I go, without even a flashlight, and I can hear something big trying to reach in after me, but I’m doing my imitation of a squid right now, no grab me I hope. Deeper and deeper, and once again I can see ghostly headlights, oh wonderful here’s the acid trip again. I’m stuck between the Big Thing From Hell and the Headlights From Hell. Me, I’m hoping that the headlights don’t have teeth, and diver deeper.
There is a wreck at the bottom of the river to the lake, and I would know that car if I saw it any other time. I’ve seen it in photos enough to know it, so I know what’s going to be on the inside. Yup, two dead bodies. Offering something that might be considered a prayer, I pull the necklaces off the two and head for the surface. Well, I get pulled to the surface. Oh joy, It caught me. But hopefully I’m holding the aces in this fight.
Way up in the air I go, held onto like a cop holds a donut, looking face to face with the ugliest mutha I have ever seen. Lilin are ugly, and so are demons, but this one takes the cake. We are talking grade A, unadulterated, ugly. It snarls and hisses and makes some pretty nasty sounds, then opens it’s mouth. It’s gonne eat me, how poetic. So I throw the necklaces into the gaping maw and hope for the best.
You ever see a ghost? Ever see about eighty six of them at one time? I have now, and I never want to witness it again. They just gathered around the Coven and the It From Hell, and closed in for the kill. It was surprisingly not bloody, and I got dropped to the ground as the victims finally got their chance to fight back at those who had been hurting them for so long. All that was left was the Coven’s car and me. And two necklaces on the ground. I debated the issue, and then decided to take them with me. Just so they would have a home. Then I stole the car and drove back to my room.
I packed up and called my good buddy who had sent me the file and chewed him a new asshole. Caught my red eye flight back to Boston, then spent a day soaking and relaxing. So that’s it, I solved the case and won the day. I need a vacation.
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The End...
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