From the Frying Pan Into the Fire...Part 1

Ravyn and I followed the same path that the Professor had taken a few minutes earlier. Each of us had a number of bags in hand, but hers were of the lighter variety than mine.

After crossing the lot, we came to a set of heavy metal double doors with the one on the right having been left ajar. Just as I moved to set on the bags down to open the door further, the Frau lumbered up behind us, wuffling in excitement.

“Rusty, hold on! Something doesn’t smell quite right.”

“This place has a ‘right smell’ to it? We might as well go in, Jim’s inside already.”

The Frau’s head swiveled back and forth. “Then he’s not alone.”

Ravyn dropped her bags with a crash. She reached out with her right hand to yank the door open while holding her now flaming left hand up above her shoulder. “Come on you two, we can’t leave him alone for long!”

I followed suit, dropping the rest of her bags and triggered the baton to drop into my right hand. I held the door that Ravyn had opened so that she and the Frau could slip into the dust filled darkness within.

The place had definitely been an institution of some sort. It had the wide corridors and tiled floors of a place that had once been clean and well-maintained.

Ravyn and the Frau padded ahead of me, while my heavy steps echoes throughout the empty halls. Jim’s trail was readily apparent in the grime that covered the tiles.

The small orbs of fire that now danced around Ravyn’s shoulders, provided most of the light that we had, although stray beams of dust-filled sun-light cut through the darkness in intermittent patches.

Ravyn motioned for us all to stop for a moment and called out, her voice cutting through the grim silence of the place. “Jim, where are you?”

In the distance we heard a muffled attempt to shout in response that was interrupted by the sickening sound of a smack to someone’s head and a dull thud.

That sent Ravyn racing forward with the Frau lurching to a run behind her.

I called the Shadow and placed myself solidly ahead of both of them so that I would bear the brunt of any hidden attacks.

Jim’s trail led us around a blind corner and into a large, dark room that was probably once a cafeteria.

Several figures stood waiting for us as we rounded the bend.

El Diablito stood in the center of the group, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief as waited with his arms crossed.

On his right was a thin, waif-like woman with hungry, almond-shaped brown eyes, and lanky, dark hair. I recognized her as Rose from the memory orb I had seen months earlier.

On his left was an even more ominous figure, the shrouded figure of Papa Locks, his gloved fists clenched at his sides. He loomed over the unconscious form of Jim.

As we pulled up to face these three, several more figures emerged from the Shadow around the room. Each of these half dozen figures had the heavy shoulders and the bearings of men who were more than comfortable in dealing out violence. They each held weapons of one sort or another, ranging from sub-machine guns for the farthest three to the oddly glowing and crackling clubs of the three closest to us.

El Diablito chuckled as we took in the scene.

“It was so nice of you to invite me to your little party…”