After several minutes of trying to sort things out in my head, I felt a change in the atmosphere of this place. Even though I can’t feel temperature changes, I could feel the chill that descended on the clearing as a being stepped from the surrounding forest and cast a long, deep shadow.
Papa Locks.
The leaves of the tree whispered in the whipping winds.
I stood up and began picking my way through the tangled roots towards the edge of the canopy.
Papa Locks made his way towards the tree.
We met in at the very edge of the canopy. Only his shadow fell across the threshold of the tree’s reach.
“Locks, what are you doing here?”
His tall frame towered over me. His dark cloak blew in the wind, but his hood remained in place. He was wearing heavy boots, dark trousers and a tunic-like shirt that was tucked into a large, black leather belt with a heavy brass buckle. His frame was thinner than I remembered. He brought his arms up to his chest, folding them as he stood there staring at me. His hands were covered in long black gauntlets. No part of his skin was visible.
He spoke in that same deep Haitian-accented rumble that he had always used when he finally answered me. “I am looking for you, Bones.”
“Why?”
His head tilted back as he let forth a hearty laugh. “Because, Bones, you have something that I want.”
My hands were down at my side, clenched in anger. I made a special effort to open my fists and work my fingers. I had the feeling that I would need to use them soon. “I’m not prepared to give you anything that I have, Locks. I would strongly recommend that you return to your new owners and forget how you found me.”
He shook his head back and forth. “I’m not going to do that, Bones, not until you give me what I want.”
My right hand began to creep up my side towards my shoulder, where Excalibur waited. “Just what is it that you want, then?”
He uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him. “Keep your shiny blade sheathed, Bones. I don’t think you will actually miss what it is that I have come for.”
I stopped my hand about waist high, but did not drop it. I knew that I could draw the blade and strike him down before he could draw any weapons on me. I was also reasonably confident that whatever power he had over Spirits would be of little use against the Darkness that already resided within me. He had been killed before I met Ma Grendel.
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve come for Drake. Give him to me.”
I was taken aback at that. “What do you mean? Drake’s dead. Didn’t El Diablito fill you in on that front since you’ve come back?”
A rumbling chuckle leaked forth from beneath the hood. “Yes, I know that Drake’s body has been taken by his father. I also know that you possess a token with his Spirit contained within it. That is what I have come for, Bones. Give it to me and you will be done with him forever.”
I had to admit that I did at least consider agreeing to his request. Drake was a pain in the ass and there was a certain amount of justice in the idea that I pass the jerk into the hands of one of his former minions.
“OK, even if I did admit to knowing what you are talking about, why would I do that, Locks? Why would I turn over the Spirit of one of my greatest enemies to another enemy, who is himself newly risen from the dead?”
“Stop playing games, Bones. We both know that you have Drake’s Spirit with you right now. I want him for my own purposes, which are none of your concern.”
I shook my head this time. “That’s not good enough. You’ve got a shit load of convincing to do before I’ll even entertain the notion of giving him up. What are you up to? Why shouldn’t I just strike you down right here and be done with you?”
He crossed his arms again. “When my Spirit roamed the worlds, I learned things. I know things about those creatures that I doubt Drake has revealed to you yet. I know what it is that you face. I also know what it is that you’ve become.”
“And just what is that?”
“Drashe’en.”
Hearing that word come from him caught me by total surprise. “What did you just say?”
“I know that your Spirit has been meshed with that of a Drashe’en. I know that you have somehow made yourself into that which the An’girasii fear the most. You have the soul of a Man, but the power and strength of a Drashe’en. You are a marked man, Bones. The An’girasii will not be able to ignore you for long. Once they learn that you have all of Drake’s knowledge at your disposal, you will find no safe haven from their minions.”
“How the fuck do you know all of this, Locks?”
He threw his head back and laughed again. “Bones, you may have the essence of a Drashe’en within you, but you are still that naïve local cop at heart. You are but a babe in this realm of Spirits and Magick, of Angels and Demons. I have made a lifetime of study in this realm. No matter how much Drake thought of you, you will never be up to the tasks that will be required of you. Give Drake to me. I will make him give me the knowledge of how to destroy the An’girasii. I will share that knowledge with you and your allies. We can join forces and destroy them once and for all.” He had moved forward as he spoke until he was right outside of the edge of the canopy of Yggsdrasil, but he stopped short of crossing that threshold.
I reached up with my left hand and touched the ring that dangled from its chain around my neck. I pulled it out from underneath my shirt to let it hang in full view. “How can I trust that you are actually Papa Locks? How can I trust you even if you are who you appear to be? How do I know that you aren’t one of the An’girasii or one of their servants?”
He stood silently as I took a big step backwards, so that he would have to come well under the canopy of the tree, something which he seemed unwilling to do. I used my left hand to pull the chain that held the ring over my head. I reached up and placed the chain over one of the lower hanging branches and over a clump of fluttering leaves.
The wind had really picked up. I hadn’t noticed it before as we spoke, but the branches of the tree and our clothes were being whipped about by the howling, swirling winds. We were at the center of a maelstrom.
My words were barely audible over the rustle of the leaves and the creaking of the branches. As I spoke, I noticed that the one branch that remained motionless in this whole mess was the one from which Drake hung motionless and unaffected.
“If you want him so bad, Locks-or whoever the Hell else you are, come and get him for yourself.”
It looked like he was trying to walk into the zone defined by the canopy, but he couldn’t push through. He reached out one grasping hand as the winds picked up even higher speeds, pushing him back even further.
“Don’t be such a fool Bones! Give him to me! I will have him!”
His voice grew fainter and fainter as his body became slightly translucent and was pushed farther and farther back.
“You are doomed, Drashe’en!”
With that last echoing cry, he was gone. Just as quickly as they had come, the winds died down.
All was quiet, except for the chuckling rustle of the leaves of Yggsdrasil. I shook my head in disbelief as I reached up and picked the necklace off the branch and balled the chain up in my closed fist.
“Fuck. There was my chance to get rid of your dumb ass, Drake. But it looks like you and I have some more talking to do.”
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A Visit From an Old Friend
I emerged from the Shadow into the forest surrounding the clearing where Yggsdrasil stood. Since I was in my actual physical form as opposed to my Spirit form, the path did not form for me as it normally would have.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.
I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.
Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.
Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.
“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.
The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.
“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”
I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.
I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”
He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”
“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”
The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.
“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”
“So it was you who called to me!”
He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”
“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”
He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.
“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.
“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”
“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”
A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.
“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”
“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”
He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”
“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”
He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”
I sat back. “Alexa?”
He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”
I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”
He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”
“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”
A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”
I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”
He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”
He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.
“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”
“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”
John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”
John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”
I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”
His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”
I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.
The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.
I couldn’t remember the last time that I had come to this place in body as well as soul, but I felt a niggling little pull in the back of my consciousness that told me that it was time to come here. Traveling in this manner was the lazy way of accomplishing the task since it didn’t require any meditation.
I picked my way through the dark, gloomy forest, crunching heavily through the thick, dry underbrush. The forest seemed to resent my intrusion. Every low lying branch hung an inch or two lower than I thought, each root cluster standing an inch or two taller than it looked. But despite the obstacles, I pushed through and emerged into the clearing that John Red Bear had first introduced me to in his earliest instruction. Of course, I had since planted the seed that had grown into the massive black tree that now stood sentinel in the middle of the clearing.
Its massive, gnarled trunk would have required the interlocked arms of ten men to cover its entire circumference. Its enormous crown of leaves whispered in the breezes of this place, sometimes forming words that could be understood when the tree wanted to be understood, but the strangest thing about those leaves was their color. The top side of each leaf was black as the darkest, moonless night, while the bottom side of each leaf was milky white. I had found fallen leaves with the faces of people I knew etched on the white sides. The thick, gnarled root clusters spread from the trunk of the tree in every direction rising up high enough in more than one place to become impromptu benches where I, and others, could sit under the canopy. On the far side of the trunk there was a small, dark opening where the roots of tree parted to reveal a stairwell down to a cavern where a reflecting pool had formed. That part was always the same, the cavern was always on the opposite side of the tree from where I entered the clearing, no matter which direction I came from.
Sitting on its haunches amidst the roots near the trunk of the tree was the brown form of an enormous bear, a bear with a splotch of red fur on its front, left shoulder.
“John? Is that you old friend?” I almost ran as I called out towards the creature.
The massive head of the creature turned to face me, its mouth curling into a snarl that become a smile as his form shifted from that of the bear to a near-human form the glowed with an internal radiance. John raised his right hand in greeting as I approached.
“Jason!” He looked around him, pointedly glancing at the tree trunk and the canopy of black and white rustling leaves. “I see that you have seen fit to redecorate our old meeting place. I must say that I’m rather impressed.”
I reached out to take hold of his glowing hand in mine, noting the stark contrast of light and darkness as he pulled me into a fierce hug.
I shrugged as we pulled apart. “I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.”
He laughed. His smiling face was now free of the lines of premature aging that had once marked it. “That is not unusual in this place. Take care in this place, for all actions taken here are likely to bring about consequences that you didn’t intend.”
“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. Now instead of a quiet place of contemplation, I get a grumpy tree that likes to laugh at me and gives all sorts of cryptic advice.”
The rustling of the leaves grew louder, as if in complaint at my characterization of it, but nothing intelligible was discernible. Probably just as well.
“The Tree is a reflection of its creator, Jason. There is much for you to learn from it, however.” He pointed to a cluster of roots that was tall and long enough for both of us to easily sit. “But I called you here today to speak about other things.”
“So it was you who called to me!”
He nodded. “I have wanted to speak with you for a long time now, but I haven’t been able to get back to this place until now.”
“I would have thought that you travels through the many worlds would have taken you far from this place, John. Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve come back at all. I’m glad you have though, because I’ve missed our lessons.”
He nodded as he looked directly into my own eyes. I felt as if he could see everything about who and what I had become since we had last spoken. I wanted to tell him about it, but speaking seemed so frivolous, so unnecessary.
“Jason, I can see that you have become far more than I ever could have imagined. I have watched as you have battled first to regain your humanity and then to become…more than human. I cried when I saw you fall to that foul creature of darkness beneath New York.
“I rejoiced to see you return and come to grips with the changes that were brought about by that experience. I wanted so badly to warn you from trying to free the creature that you know as Dracaar, but I was not permitted to interfere.”
“What do you mean that you weren’t permitted? If I had really known what it was that we were trying to do, what it was that was being freed from that damn urn, I would have taken it far, far away from our world and left it to rot.”
A single glistening, radiant tear fell down his right cheek. “I know, Jason. But as I said, I was not allowed to interfere, to help you in any way at that time.” He held up a hand to stay my next question. “I cannot discuss who prevented me, or I why I wasn’t allowed to help. It must suffice for me to say that I was simply not permitted to intervene. What is important is that the deed has been done and that it cannot, now, be undone.
“Dracaar was going to be released, by you or someone else, but it was critical for you know this new foe and for you to have access to information that would allow you and your allies to have a chance to face him and his ilk. It was crucial for you to see the nature of your true enemies.”
“Well, I’ve certainly seen that these damn creatures need to be defeated. But I have no clue how I am to do it. I had trouble facing one of their damn servants!”
He looked down at the mass of roots spread out beneath us. “Yes, the doppelganger in South Beach. You did better with the second one, but you were right in your assessment that the one in Detroit was weaker. You have made yourself known with that killing. The An’girasii will not take the slaying of one of their valuable servants lightly. That is one of the reasons I called you here.”
“Are you going to give me some clues as to how to kill these things?”
He shook his head at that. “No, that touches on other things of which I am not permitted to speak. However, I can tell you that have access to all of the clues that will lead you to find a way to stave off defeat at their hands, if only temporarily.” He reached out and touched me on the chest with his right hand and then waved up at the canopy of leaves and the tree trunk behind us. “Just as you carried within you the seed to plant this magnificent tree, your seed has been used to give birth to the one person who can bring about the final defeat of the An’girasii.”
I sat back. “Alexa?”
He nodded. “Yes. Only she can now bring about their total defeat, though the costs may be higher than even she may be able to bear. But while only Alexa can trigger the keys to final victory over the An’girasii and their minions, she will never be permitted that chance unless you and the ORC’s first find those keys and get them to her, all while protecting her from them.”
I shook my own head. “How can the fate of the world rest in the hands of toddler? How can all that pressure rest on the head and shoulders of any one person period?”
He raised his hand to stop my questions. “It has taken extreme efforts over many millennia by secret allies that I cannot reveal to bring about this one chance.”
“You mean there are ‘secret allies’ out there that have been running this show? Why can’t these assholes, whoever the Hell they are, step in give us some real damn assistance? John, can’t you help me to understand this?”
A second tear rolled down his cheek. “I can only say that there are Laws that prevent these allies from providing any of the direct assistance that you are asking for.”
I threw up my hands. “What the Hell is it with all of these damn ‘laws’? I was a cop and am now and FBI agent. I don’t know of any damn ‘laws’ that would affect this shit! Drake keeps talking about ‘laws’ that the An’girasii have to live by, and that damn elf queen, the Lady of the Lake or whatever the Hell she was, mentioned stuff about ‘laws’ too.”
He laid a hand on my leg. “Jason. I know this all seems so foreign and strange to you now. When I was alive, I was not aware of any of this myself. It is only in the traveling that I have done since my death, and the knowledge that I have gained in those travels, that has given me the perspective I now have. Please understand that the people you have just mentioned have already provided you some of the clues that you will need in order to have a chance at helping Alexa succeed in achieving her mission. Drake is with you for a reason. He holds answers that no one else possesses about the An’girasii.” He brought his hand to tap me on the chest. “Drake has answers about who, and what, you have become. Listen for those clues in what he has to say and perhaps you will find the strength to do what must be done.”
He looked away from me as I sat in stunned silence.
“You have time yet, to seek those clues. The An’girasii are just beginning to emerge again and will take some time yet to gather their strength. They have yet to understand your true significance and the significance of Alexa. Luckily, they also have a disdain for human technology and methods of communication or the telling of this story as you have been until now could be disastrous.”
“Oh shit. Should I stop blogging about this stuff?”
John shook his head again and looked me in the eyes. “No. It is part of what keeps you in touch with your humanity. And it is that which will enable you to face the coming challenges with a chance to succeed. If you lose touch with your humanity, then all hope is lost.”
John stood up. The glow within him grew brighter, his body more translucent. “Jason, I must take my leave.”
I stood up as well. “Will I see you again, John?”
His face looked very somber. “Perhaps. If given the opportunity, I will gladly visit with you again, but that may not be for me to decide.”
I reached out to touch him as his body continued to grow brighter and more transparent. He took my hand in a grasp that was warm and strong. I could feel energy flowing from him as it entered into my own Spirit, filling me with joy and peace as he flashed brighter and faded away.
The whispering of the leaves reflected a sadness that I shared as I sat down again to think on all that was said.
Drake's Tale--#3
It appears that my rather unreliable ‘host’ has finally permitted me to tell my story again. Given his track record, I am going to make the most of this opportunity. Please pardon the length of this post, but this information that will be needed if he and his allies are to have even a prayer of success in this endeavor.
Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.
In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.
When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.
So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.
It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.
As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.
Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.
Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:
Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”
Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”
Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”
Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”
Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”
Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”
Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”
Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.
Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”
Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”
Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”
Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”
Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”
Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”
Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”
Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”
Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”
Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”
Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”
Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”
Some of this tale has been mentioned previously, although others have spun the tale to suit their needs, instead of mine. You may rest assured that what I have to say is in fact The Truth.
In my youth, I was seen as the defective child. I had no visible manifestation of the power of the An’girasii running through me like Sorud and Nehmad did. In addition to their powers, they also had the physical stature that allowed them to dominate the normal humans around them, while I was seen as small even by the standards of the people of my home city of Ur.
When it was established that I would never grow out of my puny stature, I was ignored by my father. He also ordered my brothers to ignore me as well, stating that I was not worth their time or attention.
So as my brothers were personally tutored by Dracaar in how to harness their abilities and in the arts of war, I was left to my own devices. I spent my time learning how to be come invisible. I was not invisible in any kind of magickal sense, mind you, but invisible in the way that servants and slaves are invisible around their masters. Such folk are taught early on to keep to the sides, remain silent unless spoken to, and to be properly deferential at all times, head bowed, as they move from task to task, always keeping busy with some little task or another. Following those guidelines, slaves can slip in and out of the most private moments of their masters without being consciously noticed.
It was during a number of those private moments between Dracaar and my brothers that I learned of the true nature of the An’girasii. He spoke to them at such times in the harsh, foreign tongue of the An’girasii, a language I had heard previously only in my dreams, but I found that I somehow understood what was being said.
As I listened to him tell the stories of Creation and Destruction from the An’girasii perspective, I began to understand that Dracaar was not alone, but was instead one of at least several dozen other such beings who had come to this world with the goal to rule over it as gods.
Indeed, many of the names of other such entities that Dracaar told my brothers about, were names of myth and legend that the people of Ur worshipped as Gods, or feared as Demons.
Here is a snippet of one particularly interesting lesson:
Sorud: “Father, these people are so weak! Why must we live among them as we do? Why can’t we set ourselves apart as some of the others have done and just be worshipped as is our right?”
Dracaar: “That is a very good question, son. Each of the others, including Tiamat, has lived amongst these weak humans just as we ourselves are doing now. In other worlds, other places, we have come and conquered or ruled without having to live amongst the lesser beings that inhabit those places, however this world, this place is different. This is a world of flesh and bone. In order for our full powers to manifest here in this place, we must be born of flesh to a creature that is native to this place. That is why your mother, as strong as she is, is still human.”
Nehmad: “Is that why Sorud and I have to train so hard to come into our full strength, because we were born of a human mother?”
Dracaar: “Indeed. It is no small or easy thing, even for the Spirit of an An’girasii to access its full array of powers and memories once it is born into the flesh, as you two have so recently been. There is something about this world and the laws that bind it that prevents almost all Spirits, even those of us who are so much stronger than humans, from having access to the full knowledge of who and what they truly are.”
Sorud: “So both Nehmad and I are of the same order as you?”
Dracaar: “Yes. Both of you are strong An’girasii Spirits. Once you have learned how to fully manifest yourselves, you will come to realize your true nature and take your rightful place amongst us.”
Nehmad: “Father, what of our younger brother…”
Dracaar: “Shush Nehmad. His name is not to be spoken of in our language. His Spirit is weak and puny. He is not of our kind. Something went terribly wrong with him. Your mother’s human weakness must have allowed for a lesser Spirit to come during our coupling. He is not your brother. He is a human.” That last word was spit out like it was an insult.
Sorud: “So why was it allowed to live? Why don’t we kill him so that our name is not associated with something so weak?”
Dracaar: He laughed before responding, a deep, chilling laugh. “Ah Sorud, you are coming into your own. It will not be long now before you Awaken to your true self. But let me answer this question. When a child is first born, the connection between the Spirit and the flesh is not as strong as it will become over time. It is not immediately apparent with young babies in this world just what kind of Spirit has attached itself to body of the baby. For that reason, some patience is required. When that child was born, the body was small and puny, but the Spirit was strong and bright. I had great hopes that one of my ancient brethren had come through the Veil that separates our native world from this one. But while his Spirit showed strength and vitality for an infant, it never developed beyond the initial promise that he had showed. Instead, as he grew into childhood, his Spirit seemed to diminish even further, changing in ways that I had never before seen, even for a human. Once it was clear to me that he was not one of us, I resolved to study him for my own purposes. Once I have learned all that I can from him, he shall be sent to his death.”
Nehmad: “Will you give him to us, father? Can we slay him?”
Dracaar: “No. That is something that I cannot risk. As much as I believe that he is not of the An’girasii, there are laws that may not be broken. His death will have to be at the hands of others. Have no fear. There are no laws of any consequence that prevent humans from killing each other. In fact, it is something that humans are very good at. They can be made to kill each other with very little incentive.”
Sorud: “What laws prevent us from killing each other, father?”
Dracaar: “When you come through your Awakening, these things will be known to you. But it is good to discuss them now so that you don’t violate the law unwittingly. You must never slay another An’girasii.”
Sorud: “Why not? Haven’t you been teaching us that we are Immortal spirits, that if this body is slain that we will be able to take over another at our leisure?”
Dracaar: “Yes. All of that is true. But if you have not gone through your Awakening, you will have to be born again into the body of another human child. Once you have been Awakened, you will have the ability to take on the body of any living creature near you and modify that one to suit your needs. However, if one An’girasii slays another, things are different. A struggle between two of us not merely a struggle of flesh of bone, but of Power and Spirit as well. We are a primal race. If one An’girasii were to slay another, terrible things happen, the Spirits of both entities merge and change, becoming something dark and chaotic. The name we have for those creatures that survive such an event the Drashe’en—the Fallen. If you fail to honor the law and become Drashe’en, there is no return. There is only hunger and pain, suffering and loss.”
Nehmad: “Are there Drashe’en here in this world?”
Dracaar: “Yes. There are a few. We must always keep a vigilant eye out for them, for they are among the greatest dangers we face.”
Sorud: “How can the Drashe’en be stopped then, father? Can we slay them without suffering the same fate?”
Dracaar: “There are ways of dealing with the Drashe’en, but you will not be able to understand them until you have gone through your Awakening. Now, let us go train with our weapons, soon it will be time to test you in battle.”
Monday, March 12, 2007
The Shadow
Dancing between Light and Dark, it is neither Life nor Death, but the thin line between.
Illusory
Ever present
Hollow
Ordinary
Fleet
The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.
Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.
Dangerous
Simple
Silent
Mysterious
Ambivalent
The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.
Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.
Lonely
Voracious
Irksome
Magnificent
Fractious
The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.
Illusory
Ever present
Hollow
Ordinary
Fleet
The flitting Shadow beckons, always near, yet never to be caught.
Hovering amongst Dreams and Nightmares, stoking Hope and fueling Fear.
Dangerous
Simple
Silent
Mysterious
Ambivalent
The Shadow serves, but the wary Master guards against deceit.
Doubting both Faith and Reason, it harbors neither Love nor Hate.
Lonely
Voracious
Irksome
Magnificent
Fractious
The Shadow seeks those that Tremble and breaks those who Dare.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
I, Zombie
I am Rusty Bones.
I am a being of the Shadow.
I walk between Light and Dark. I am of neither, at home with both.
My body is that of a zombie, of flesh and bone that once lived, of machine and magick that brought it back. My Spirit is free, though once it was trapped.
I gather the Shadow as my Mantle, my Shroud, so that I may stand vigil over the innocent.
I am Death incarnate.
I am Rusty Bones.
I am a being of the Shadow.
I walk between Light and Dark. I am of neither, at home with both.
My body is that of a zombie, of flesh and bone that once lived, of machine and magick that brought it back. My Spirit is free, though once it was trapped.
I gather the Shadow as my Mantle, my Shroud, so that I may stand vigil over the innocent.
I am Death incarnate.
I am Rusty Bones.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Enemies Mine...The Clean-up
As soon as Papa Locks’ portal closed up, a collective sigh of relief was released by my three companions.
Jim’s face turned a pale shade of green as he looked about the room for a garbage can. When he spotted it, he grabbed the thing and hobbled out of the room, mumbling something about coming back in a few minutes.
Ravyn shot a look of concern Jim’s way, but decided that he preferred to be alone, so she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t believe that Papa Locks is back! How did they manage that? Cerrydwen is not going to be happy at all when she learns about this.”
I grabbed the head of the doppelganger from where I had last placed it and then walked over to where the hand was laying on the floor. I knelt down to pick that up as well. “You know, I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility of his return previously. He was a very powerful priest in his own right, and it just makes sense that they would have taken some sort of precautions to be able to bring themselves back from the dead if they were going to do it for the local cops like me who they had snared into the Project.”
Zenny reached down to the table and picked up the Soulscope that she had placed on it to show El Diablito. “Rusty, it seemed like you were the only one in the room who knew what was going on. This encounter didn’t go anything like we expected. How did you know they would back down like that?”
I shook my head as I dropped the head and the hand of the doppelganger next to the main carcass. “I had no idea that Papa Locks would be here, or even that Chandler was a doppelganger until he led us out of that elevator. Something about the way he moved and the way he noticed me looking at him in the Shadowland reminded me of the doppelganger on South Beach, although I don’t think this one was as strong as the other one. As to knowing that they would back down like that, I didn’t. Once I saw how shocked they were that Chandler wasn’t who he said he was, I took the bit in my mouth and bluffed like I had never bluffed before.”
Zenny cocked her head. “Bluffed? What does that mean?”
I grinned. “It is sort of like pretending to be in stronger position than you really are. It is something you do a lot in a casino like this. I used to play a lot of poker when I was alive.”
Slightly less green about the gills than he was, Jim limped back into the room, making a point of not looking at the still smoldering body on the floor. “Well from what I saw Rusty, you might have a future in playing poker again. I was pretty impressed by how you handled that after the surprise of the…creature.”
Ravyn got up impatiently and walked over to Jim, showing him to a seat where the body wasn’t in view. “So how could you tell that the butler was a doppelganger Rusty? If these things serve the An’girasii, then we are going to need to know how to spot them in the future. You won’t always be around to deal with them for us.”
“Well, first I noticed how calm the guy was down in the lobby when he was waiting for us. He seemed to be keeping himself supernaturally still, and then kind of came alive when he noticed us approaching. I’m sure Chandler was a very good butler, someone who had a cool, calm demeanor, but I don’t know too many humans who can keep themselves that calm.
“Second, in the elevator, I noticed how he moved. The first doppelganger that I met in South Beach was super fast. It moved way faster than I ever could, unless I was using magick of some sort to enhance my speed. In the elevator, the butler moved with such speed and grace that I began to have my doubts at that point. That’s when I slipped into the Shadowland to take a glance at his Spirit form. His Spirit form reflected a sense of power and calmness that I didn’t quite think was appropriate for a human. What sealed the deal though was when he gave me a slight nod of acknowledge in the Shadowland, like he sensed me looking at him there. I have yet to meet a normal human being who can sense things simultaneously in both the physical world and the Shadowland and distinguish between the two places. I knew then that he was either a very powerful Caster or something else.
“The final straw was when he exited the elevator and didn’t touch anyone as he slipped past all of us to get ahead again. That was simply inhuman. I’m betting that at least some of these creatures only have the power to fool human sight, but not the sense of touch. I think the doppelganger in South Beach was stronger, that it could fool other senses, but not this one. That’s probably why he chose to impersonate a servant who would not be required to get that close to anyone else—he had a reason to keep his distance from other people.
“It will be very hard to distinguish these creatures from the people they are trying to impersonate. Agent Wilson and her crew will be taking the body back to Quantico and conducting an autopsy of it in the hopes of discovering some of their secrets.”
Agent Jennifer Wilson walked through door to the room just as I mentioned her name. She was followed by several agents in bio-hazard suits, two of whom were carrying a stretcher sheathed in a plastic of some sort.
She glanced at the corpse on the floor, wrinkled her nose at the smell of things and started giving orders to her team to gather up the body. A second crew followed the first, this crew pushing a cart with all sorts of bottles filled with liquid and various cleaning tools. She put those folks to work cleaning up all of the droplets and puddles of liquid that I had helped to create.
“I want this room roped off until we’ve got the task done. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this done in good time.”
Once she had finished giving her orders and the body had been flipped onto the stretcher and the other parts collected and covered, Agent Wilson let her guard down a bit as she gave Ravyn a big hug. “It’s been too long Mistress Fyre.”
“Oh, stop that. Call me Ravyn. You aren’t my student any longer. So you’re leading a team now, I see.”
Agent Wilson stood slightly taller than the diminutive Ravyn, but it was almost like she still looked up to her. “Yeah, this team was Rusty’s idea, actually. He pulled some strings at HQ to let me form a special response team. Each of the team members has some measure of Talent that most of them were unaware of until I tested them using those techniques you had taught me back at the Coop. I’ve been bringing them along slowly, showing them evidence from our files that had been previously disregarded as unexplainable or as anomalies. I was just about to give you a call actually, before Rusty gave me the heads-up to show up here with the team.”
“Oh, what about?”
“I was wondering if we could set up a sort of intern program with you at the Coop. I’d like some of these agents to really hone the Talents they have, some of them could become decent Casters, if they had the training. It might also help you out to have a couple of agents in residence, in case more creatures like this thing come calling.”
I walked over to them. “That sounds like a good idea, actually. By the way Jennifer, what have you decided to call the team?”
She grinned and looked down at her feet sheepishly. “Zulu recommended that I call it the Omega Team.”
That brought a groan from my lips. “It figures. Well, why not use the designation for something positive?”
Jim stood up now that the body had been removed. He was close to his normal color again. “Well, that might be a good idea for the Coop. However, I would have to see whether or not we could increase the budget to allow for the extra expenses.”
Jennifer shook her head. “No worries there, Sir. If Ravyn agrees to host the agents, I’ve been given the green light to authorize a per diem expense at the going rate for the Chicago area for their living expenses, which should more than cover any expenses incurred by the extra agents in residence.”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, I think you are right. I don’t have any objection then. Do you, Ravyn?”
Ravyn shrugged. “I have no objection, so long as they know who the boss around there is! They can’t be any worse than this dumb zombie of ours is!”
Jim’s face turned a pale shade of green as he looked about the room for a garbage can. When he spotted it, he grabbed the thing and hobbled out of the room, mumbling something about coming back in a few minutes.
Ravyn shot a look of concern Jim’s way, but decided that he preferred to be alone, so she pulled out a chair and sat down. “I can’t believe that Papa Locks is back! How did they manage that? Cerrydwen is not going to be happy at all when she learns about this.”
I grabbed the head of the doppelganger from where I had last placed it and then walked over to where the hand was laying on the floor. I knelt down to pick that up as well. “You know, I don’t know why I didn’t think of the possibility of his return previously. He was a very powerful priest in his own right, and it just makes sense that they would have taken some sort of precautions to be able to bring themselves back from the dead if they were going to do it for the local cops like me who they had snared into the Project.”
Zenny reached down to the table and picked up the Soulscope that she had placed on it to show El Diablito. “Rusty, it seemed like you were the only one in the room who knew what was going on. This encounter didn’t go anything like we expected. How did you know they would back down like that?”
I shook my head as I dropped the head and the hand of the doppelganger next to the main carcass. “I had no idea that Papa Locks would be here, or even that Chandler was a doppelganger until he led us out of that elevator. Something about the way he moved and the way he noticed me looking at him in the Shadowland reminded me of the doppelganger on South Beach, although I don’t think this one was as strong as the other one. As to knowing that they would back down like that, I didn’t. Once I saw how shocked they were that Chandler wasn’t who he said he was, I took the bit in my mouth and bluffed like I had never bluffed before.”
Zenny cocked her head. “Bluffed? What does that mean?”
I grinned. “It is sort of like pretending to be in stronger position than you really are. It is something you do a lot in a casino like this. I used to play a lot of poker when I was alive.”
Slightly less green about the gills than he was, Jim limped back into the room, making a point of not looking at the still smoldering body on the floor. “Well from what I saw Rusty, you might have a future in playing poker again. I was pretty impressed by how you handled that after the surprise of the…creature.”
Ravyn got up impatiently and walked over to Jim, showing him to a seat where the body wasn’t in view. “So how could you tell that the butler was a doppelganger Rusty? If these things serve the An’girasii, then we are going to need to know how to spot them in the future. You won’t always be around to deal with them for us.”
“Well, first I noticed how calm the guy was down in the lobby when he was waiting for us. He seemed to be keeping himself supernaturally still, and then kind of came alive when he noticed us approaching. I’m sure Chandler was a very good butler, someone who had a cool, calm demeanor, but I don’t know too many humans who can keep themselves that calm.
“Second, in the elevator, I noticed how he moved. The first doppelganger that I met in South Beach was super fast. It moved way faster than I ever could, unless I was using magick of some sort to enhance my speed. In the elevator, the butler moved with such speed and grace that I began to have my doubts at that point. That’s when I slipped into the Shadowland to take a glance at his Spirit form. His Spirit form reflected a sense of power and calmness that I didn’t quite think was appropriate for a human. What sealed the deal though was when he gave me a slight nod of acknowledge in the Shadowland, like he sensed me looking at him there. I have yet to meet a normal human being who can sense things simultaneously in both the physical world and the Shadowland and distinguish between the two places. I knew then that he was either a very powerful Caster or something else.
“The final straw was when he exited the elevator and didn’t touch anyone as he slipped past all of us to get ahead again. That was simply inhuman. I’m betting that at least some of these creatures only have the power to fool human sight, but not the sense of touch. I think the doppelganger in South Beach was stronger, that it could fool other senses, but not this one. That’s probably why he chose to impersonate a servant who would not be required to get that close to anyone else—he had a reason to keep his distance from other people.
“It will be very hard to distinguish these creatures from the people they are trying to impersonate. Agent Wilson and her crew will be taking the body back to Quantico and conducting an autopsy of it in the hopes of discovering some of their secrets.”
Agent Jennifer Wilson walked through door to the room just as I mentioned her name. She was followed by several agents in bio-hazard suits, two of whom were carrying a stretcher sheathed in a plastic of some sort.
She glanced at the corpse on the floor, wrinkled her nose at the smell of things and started giving orders to her team to gather up the body. A second crew followed the first, this crew pushing a cart with all sorts of bottles filled with liquid and various cleaning tools. She put those folks to work cleaning up all of the droplets and puddles of liquid that I had helped to create.
“I want this room roped off until we’ve got the task done. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s get this done in good time.”
Once she had finished giving her orders and the body had been flipped onto the stretcher and the other parts collected and covered, Agent Wilson let her guard down a bit as she gave Ravyn a big hug. “It’s been too long Mistress Fyre.”
“Oh, stop that. Call me Ravyn. You aren’t my student any longer. So you’re leading a team now, I see.”
Agent Wilson stood slightly taller than the diminutive Ravyn, but it was almost like she still looked up to her. “Yeah, this team was Rusty’s idea, actually. He pulled some strings at HQ to let me form a special response team. Each of the team members has some measure of Talent that most of them were unaware of until I tested them using those techniques you had taught me back at the Coop. I’ve been bringing them along slowly, showing them evidence from our files that had been previously disregarded as unexplainable or as anomalies. I was just about to give you a call actually, before Rusty gave me the heads-up to show up here with the team.”
“Oh, what about?”
“I was wondering if we could set up a sort of intern program with you at the Coop. I’d like some of these agents to really hone the Talents they have, some of them could become decent Casters, if they had the training. It might also help you out to have a couple of agents in residence, in case more creatures like this thing come calling.”
I walked over to them. “That sounds like a good idea, actually. By the way Jennifer, what have you decided to call the team?”
She grinned and looked down at her feet sheepishly. “Zulu recommended that I call it the Omega Team.”
That brought a groan from my lips. “It figures. Well, why not use the designation for something positive?”
Jim stood up now that the body had been removed. He was close to his normal color again. “Well, that might be a good idea for the Coop. However, I would have to see whether or not we could increase the budget to allow for the extra expenses.”
Jennifer shook her head. “No worries there, Sir. If Ravyn agrees to host the agents, I’ve been given the green light to authorize a per diem expense at the going rate for the Chicago area for their living expenses, which should more than cover any expenses incurred by the extra agents in residence.”
Jim nodded. “Yeah, I think you are right. I don’t have any objection then. Do you, Ravyn?”
Ravyn shrugged. “I have no objection, so long as they know who the boss around there is! They can’t be any worse than this dumb zombie of ours is!”
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 5
El Diablito’s eyes narrowed and his voice took on a harder edge as he looked from the red-faced Ravyn to Zenny. “Speaking of pets, is this Bernstein’s little pet? I’ve heard and read so much about her. I must say, I can see what drove him to distraction.”
Zenny stepped up from behind me, her own face a mask a barely hidden pain. “I am no one’s pet, you butcher. Your words cannot harm me any worse than others have already done with their deeds. I have found something you probably wish had remained lost to the sands of time.” She reached into a pocket and drew out the Soulscope. She placed it on the table with the stark Nazi swastika facing up.
El Diablito sat back in obvious shock. “Wherever did you find that?”
I moved forward to the edge of the conference table, placing both hands on the edge and leaning onto it. “Let’s just say that we’ve been digging into your past, Dr. Klimm, and we’re not done yet.”
Dick Arnold finally recovered enough of his wits about him to glance up from the head of the doppelganger that still sat directly in front of him to El Diablito. “Lito, why do these crazy people keep calling you by this other name? Who is Dr. Klimm?”
The Professor finally made his way past the smoking corpse of the doppelganger, moving to Ravyn’s left side. He plopped his backpack on the table, reached in and pulled out a plain manila folder, less than half an inch thick. He tossed the folder to land just to the left of the head and its small pool of sizzling black liquid, on the other side of the head from El Diablito.
“Mr. Arnold, in that folder, you will find copies of the evidence to show that the man sitting at your side was previously known as Juergen Klimm, a German scientist during Hitler’s Third Reich. He is a wanted war criminal. The photos and articles inside that folder should be all the proof that you need that the man you have listed as D. B. Lito in all of your SEC filings for Bone Financial and the Mercury-Unlimited Group is a known and wanted war criminal. This information has not yet been made public, but additional copies of that folder are safely in the hands of those who will ensure that every major newspaper in America will have this information if anything should happen to us tonight. I don’t think your stock holders and investors will like the idea that the man known as the Zombie King in Nazi Germany is up to some of his old tricks with their money.”
El Diablito had recovered from his shock, his face taking on the expression of someone who was thinking hard to come up solutions to an unexpected problem.
During this whole exchange, Papa Locks had stood motionless between and slightly behind both of the sitting men. His arms were crossed, his face still obscured by the enormous hood of the cloak.
Dick Arnold’s expression became one of a businessman engaged in a serious negotiation. He licked his thin lips, intertwined his fingers and looked from the folder, still untouched, back up to Jim.
“So, what is it that you want from us? You obviously could have gone public with this information, but have chosen not to use it yet. Why not?”
That was my cue. I stood up straight again and nodded in El Diablito’s direction while looking Dick Arnold directly in the eyes. “We know who you have working for you.” I glanced up at Papa Locks. “And what you have been doing with his knowledge and expertise. We also know that Dr. Klimm here is building an organization of Caster’s of questionable ethics and character.” I strode down the length of the long table until I approached where the two men were sitting.
The guards behind them nervously fingered their weapons, trying to decide if I was posing a threat to their charges.
I got close enough to Dick Arnold to reach down and palm the top of the head of the doppelganger. In the same motion I picked the head up, droplets of acidic black ichor trailing across the table as I did so.
“As much as we’d like to dedicate the time and resources to putting you and your little undead factories out of business, there are greater enemies out there right now.”
I turned the head of the doppelganger so that I look into its vacant eyes for a moment before turning its dead gaze back on the lesser foes sitting before me.
“This creature, this doppelganger, is but a minor servant of an enemy of all of humanity that sees Casters like Dr. Klimm and Ravyn as threats to be eliminated so that they can take control easier. They see beings like myself, and now apparently Papa Locks, as well as any other undead you dumbasses have managed to create as possible tools to taken and used and discarded at will.
“Dick, you were surprised to see that your longtime manservant, Grimes, was actually a monster in disguise. How long do you think you have been making your plans in front of that servant, not knowing that he served another more powerful master? How many other such spies are around you?”
I brandished the head, letting the little droplets spray around as I did so. “These creatures can take any damn form that they want to, shifting their bodies and their Spirits to match the forms of the person they are killing. They can take your voice, your mannerisms, and enough of your memories to pass as you so well that your own mama wouldn’t know the difference. How much longer do you think you would have lived if this doppelganger had decided that he wanted to be you, instead of your poor servant?”
Dick Arnold sat back and gulped at the thought.
I wasn’t done yet, however. “We agreed to come here tonight to see you in the hopes of getting you to pay attention to the real enemy that we all are facing right now. The An’girasii have been awakened. They are taking stock of the world and gathering their forces.”
I slammed the head back down on the table for emphasis. It landed with a thick, wet splat, droplets spraying all over. Arnold and his guards jerked back in reaction to the spray.
“Finally, we are here to give you warning.” I leaned down and picked up the folder, now splotched and smoldering in a couple of spots. “We don’t expect a lot of help in facing this enemy from the likes you and your cronies, but if we think for one minute that you have decided to throw your lot in with that enemy, or you hinder us in any way—everything that you have built up, your fortune, your reputation, and your companies will all be destroyed without mercy.”
I was looming over Dick Arnold now, his guard having shrunk back in fear at the way I was moving and carrying myself. “And, Dickie boy, I will hunt you down like the dog that you are, and there is not a damn thing you, or any of your servants and stooges will be able to do to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
His mouth was moving up and down again, but no intelligible sounds were coming out of it.
I turned my attention to El Diablito. He was trying to glare back at me with defiance, but it came across more like petulance.
“You and I have some unfinished business, Klimm. If we both survive the coming struggle against Drake’s ancient foes, you will have much to answer for. I am looking forward to that day. In the meantime, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll make time to deal with you sooner rather than later.”
Finally, I looked straight up into the darkness created by the hood of Papa Locks cloak. He stood unmoving, unimpressed.
“I’m not sorry to see you back, Locks. Now I’ll have that chance to settle my own score with you. But that too, can wait for now.”
I stepped back and made a dismissive wave with my left arm. “I would recommend that you all take your leave now. A team of specially trained investigators and field agents from the FBI will be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to be here when they arrive. The body stays.”
Papa Locks nodded. “I have taken my measure of you anew, Bones. You have grown into your powers impressively.” His laugh rumbled forth from his body again. “I am looking forward to our next encounter, it shall be most interesting.” His hood shifted slightly as he looked down as El Diablito and then Dick Arnold. “Come, my little friends. We have seen and heard enough tonight.”
His skeletal right hand emerged from within his cloak and drew on the power of the Shadow to create a portal. The guards were the first to step through, then El Diablito, his lips pursed in thought. Dick Arnold reached down and took the folder that had been given to him before he too stepped through.
Papa Locks was the last one left. He glanced back in my direction and raised his left hand in either a salute or a challenge. “Until we meet again, Bones.”
Zenny stepped up from behind me, her own face a mask a barely hidden pain. “I am no one’s pet, you butcher. Your words cannot harm me any worse than others have already done with their deeds. I have found something you probably wish had remained lost to the sands of time.” She reached into a pocket and drew out the Soulscope. She placed it on the table with the stark Nazi swastika facing up.
El Diablito sat back in obvious shock. “Wherever did you find that?”
I moved forward to the edge of the conference table, placing both hands on the edge and leaning onto it. “Let’s just say that we’ve been digging into your past, Dr. Klimm, and we’re not done yet.”
Dick Arnold finally recovered enough of his wits about him to glance up from the head of the doppelganger that still sat directly in front of him to El Diablito. “Lito, why do these crazy people keep calling you by this other name? Who is Dr. Klimm?”
The Professor finally made his way past the smoking corpse of the doppelganger, moving to Ravyn’s left side. He plopped his backpack on the table, reached in and pulled out a plain manila folder, less than half an inch thick. He tossed the folder to land just to the left of the head and its small pool of sizzling black liquid, on the other side of the head from El Diablito.
“Mr. Arnold, in that folder, you will find copies of the evidence to show that the man sitting at your side was previously known as Juergen Klimm, a German scientist during Hitler’s Third Reich. He is a wanted war criminal. The photos and articles inside that folder should be all the proof that you need that the man you have listed as D. B. Lito in all of your SEC filings for Bone Financial and the Mercury-Unlimited Group is a known and wanted war criminal. This information has not yet been made public, but additional copies of that folder are safely in the hands of those who will ensure that every major newspaper in America will have this information if anything should happen to us tonight. I don’t think your stock holders and investors will like the idea that the man known as the Zombie King in Nazi Germany is up to some of his old tricks with their money.”
El Diablito had recovered from his shock, his face taking on the expression of someone who was thinking hard to come up solutions to an unexpected problem.
During this whole exchange, Papa Locks had stood motionless between and slightly behind both of the sitting men. His arms were crossed, his face still obscured by the enormous hood of the cloak.
Dick Arnold’s expression became one of a businessman engaged in a serious negotiation. He licked his thin lips, intertwined his fingers and looked from the folder, still untouched, back up to Jim.
“So, what is it that you want from us? You obviously could have gone public with this information, but have chosen not to use it yet. Why not?”
That was my cue. I stood up straight again and nodded in El Diablito’s direction while looking Dick Arnold directly in the eyes. “We know who you have working for you.” I glanced up at Papa Locks. “And what you have been doing with his knowledge and expertise. We also know that Dr. Klimm here is building an organization of Caster’s of questionable ethics and character.” I strode down the length of the long table until I approached where the two men were sitting.
The guards behind them nervously fingered their weapons, trying to decide if I was posing a threat to their charges.
I got close enough to Dick Arnold to reach down and palm the top of the head of the doppelganger. In the same motion I picked the head up, droplets of acidic black ichor trailing across the table as I did so.
“As much as we’d like to dedicate the time and resources to putting you and your little undead factories out of business, there are greater enemies out there right now.”
I turned the head of the doppelganger so that I look into its vacant eyes for a moment before turning its dead gaze back on the lesser foes sitting before me.
“This creature, this doppelganger, is but a minor servant of an enemy of all of humanity that sees Casters like Dr. Klimm and Ravyn as threats to be eliminated so that they can take control easier. They see beings like myself, and now apparently Papa Locks, as well as any other undead you dumbasses have managed to create as possible tools to taken and used and discarded at will.
“Dick, you were surprised to see that your longtime manservant, Grimes, was actually a monster in disguise. How long do you think you have been making your plans in front of that servant, not knowing that he served another more powerful master? How many other such spies are around you?”
I brandished the head, letting the little droplets spray around as I did so. “These creatures can take any damn form that they want to, shifting their bodies and their Spirits to match the forms of the person they are killing. They can take your voice, your mannerisms, and enough of your memories to pass as you so well that your own mama wouldn’t know the difference. How much longer do you think you would have lived if this doppelganger had decided that he wanted to be you, instead of your poor servant?”
Dick Arnold sat back and gulped at the thought.
I wasn’t done yet, however. “We agreed to come here tonight to see you in the hopes of getting you to pay attention to the real enemy that we all are facing right now. The An’girasii have been awakened. They are taking stock of the world and gathering their forces.”
I slammed the head back down on the table for emphasis. It landed with a thick, wet splat, droplets spraying all over. Arnold and his guards jerked back in reaction to the spray.
“Finally, we are here to give you warning.” I leaned down and picked up the folder, now splotched and smoldering in a couple of spots. “We don’t expect a lot of help in facing this enemy from the likes you and your cronies, but if we think for one minute that you have decided to throw your lot in with that enemy, or you hinder us in any way—everything that you have built up, your fortune, your reputation, and your companies will all be destroyed without mercy.”
I was looming over Dick Arnold now, his guard having shrunk back in fear at the way I was moving and carrying myself. “And, Dickie boy, I will hunt you down like the dog that you are, and there is not a damn thing you, or any of your servants and stooges will be able to do to stop me. Do I make myself clear?”
His mouth was moving up and down again, but no intelligible sounds were coming out of it.
I turned my attention to El Diablito. He was trying to glare back at me with defiance, but it came across more like petulance.
“You and I have some unfinished business, Klimm. If we both survive the coming struggle against Drake’s ancient foes, you will have much to answer for. I am looking forward to that day. In the meantime, you had better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll make time to deal with you sooner rather than later.”
Finally, I looked straight up into the darkness created by the hood of Papa Locks cloak. He stood unmoving, unimpressed.
“I’m not sorry to see you back, Locks. Now I’ll have that chance to settle my own score with you. But that too, can wait for now.”
I stepped back and made a dismissive wave with my left arm. “I would recommend that you all take your leave now. A team of specially trained investigators and field agents from the FBI will be here shortly. I don’t think it will be a good idea for you to be here when they arrive. The body stays.”
Papa Locks nodded. “I have taken my measure of you anew, Bones. You have grown into your powers impressively.” His laugh rumbled forth from his body again. “I am looking forward to our next encounter, it shall be most interesting.” His hood shifted slightly as he looked down as El Diablito and then Dick Arnold. “Come, my little friends. We have seen and heard enough tonight.”
His skeletal right hand emerged from within his cloak and drew on the power of the Shadow to create a portal. The guards were the first to step through, then El Diablito, his lips pursed in thought. Dick Arnold reached down and took the folder that had been given to him before he too stepped through.
Papa Locks was the last one left. He glanced back in my direction and raised his left hand in either a salute or a challenge. “Until we meet again, Bones.”
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 4
I let the carcass fall to the ground and glanced at the blade. The black blood was now dry and flaking off. I gave the flat of the blade a hearty tap on the edge of the table and watched the rest of the stuff fall off in jagged flakes.
Everyone watched in silence as I guided the end of the blade back into its special sheath with my left hand, the weapon, sheath and all slipping into the Shadowland as it clicked into place. I raised my hands in a belated show of peaceful intentions.
“Let’s have everyone put away the weapons. I don’t see any need for more violence tonight.”
The guard on the right was the first to visibly relax. He rose from his kneeling position, moving the muzzle of his pistol away from me and towards the ceiling.
El Diablito settled back into his chair as he regained his composure, allowing his power to dissipate. “That was an impressive display, Rusty. How did you know that Grimes was an imposter?”
Dick Arnold was still staring in disbelief at the monstrous smoking head that had landing directly in front of him. Hearing the name of his missing manservant seemed to restore the ability to speak. “Grimes! What happened to my Grimes?”
The brooding figure of Papa Locks crossed his arms. “You’ve changed a great deal since the last time we met, Bones, but so have I.”
“Yeah, Locks, I seem to remember you being killed in Miami. May I presume that you are not just a spokesperson for Bone Financial, but a client as well?”
He didn’t respond.
Ravyn stepped over the fallen form of the doppelganger with a look of disgust. “You had better have a good reason for requesting this meeting, Dr. Klimm.” Her voice dripped with acid as she spoke his name.
El Diablito’s facial expression shifted from smug to shock back to smug within in microseconds. “Ah yes, I’ve enjoyed our duels, young lady. But I am less than fond of your pet bird, I must say.” He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Everyone watched in silence as I guided the end of the blade back into its special sheath with my left hand, the weapon, sheath and all slipping into the Shadowland as it clicked into place. I raised my hands in a belated show of peaceful intentions.
“Let’s have everyone put away the weapons. I don’t see any need for more violence tonight.”
The guard on the right was the first to visibly relax. He rose from his kneeling position, moving the muzzle of his pistol away from me and towards the ceiling.
El Diablito settled back into his chair as he regained his composure, allowing his power to dissipate. “That was an impressive display, Rusty. How did you know that Grimes was an imposter?”
Dick Arnold was still staring in disbelief at the monstrous smoking head that had landing directly in front of him. Hearing the name of his missing manservant seemed to restore the ability to speak. “Grimes! What happened to my Grimes?”
The brooding figure of Papa Locks crossed his arms. “You’ve changed a great deal since the last time we met, Bones, but so have I.”
“Yeah, Locks, I seem to remember you being killed in Miami. May I presume that you are not just a spokesperson for Bone Financial, but a client as well?”
He didn’t respond.
Ravyn stepped over the fallen form of the doppelganger with a look of disgust. “You had better have a good reason for requesting this meeting, Dr. Klimm.” Her voice dripped with acid as she spoke his name.
El Diablito’s facial expression shifted from smug to shock back to smug within in microseconds. “Ah yes, I’ve enjoyed our duels, young lady. But I am less than fond of your pet bird, I must say.” He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Enemies Mine...Part 3
Seizing on the opportunity created by the surprise of seeing Papa Locks standing across the room, I stretched my right hand up to my right shoulder and seized ahold of the hilt of Excalibur.
In a blindingly fast move that I had been practicing ever since that nasty encounter on South Beach, I drew the blade and lashed out with it. Even with surprise, however, I would have missed my target if the blade hadn't adjusted itself in mid-swing.
The magickal blade whizzed out faster than the human eye can see, taking Chandler's head and the hand that he had brought up in an attempt to ward off the blow that no one else knew was coming. Hand and head went flying up in the air as tremendous energies and a fountain of blackish ichor were unleashed in a gushing flood. The lights of the room flickered as the Spirit of the creature was destroyed by the blade's deadly magick.
Dick Arnold sat stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hands clenched to the table as he watched the head of his long time servants head go flying, only to see the head of a monster land on the table with a thud. The empty eyes of an alien creature stared back at him.
El Diablito had the presence of mind to kick back from the table and stand up, a ball of powerful energy gathering around his right hand, ready to smite any who threatened him. "Bones, what is the meaning..."
The two guards reached for weapons at their sides, the guard on the right side ducking down to use the table as cover as he drew a weapon. The guard on the left had his pistol up and out in a standing postiion.
Only Papa Locks didn't react in utter surprise. Even though his head was obscured by the dark hood of the cloak, I saw it tip back as a laughter echoed forth, his shoulders shaking in mirth. "You see, Little Devil, I told you that butler was not who he seemed to be!"
I heard Zenny gasp in surprise, while Jim uttered a series of curses that would have shocked his students. I could feel Ravyn gathering her own power, whether in response to El Diablito or to my actions, I wasn't sure.
I reached down to the oozing form of the doppleganger on the floor, hooked my left hand into the hole at the top of its neck and pulled the body up for all to see. Excalibur still smoking in my right hand, I looked to my other enemies across the table.
"We need to talk."
(To be continued tonight...)
In a blindingly fast move that I had been practicing ever since that nasty encounter on South Beach, I drew the blade and lashed out with it. Even with surprise, however, I would have missed my target if the blade hadn't adjusted itself in mid-swing.
The magickal blade whizzed out faster than the human eye can see, taking Chandler's head and the hand that he had brought up in an attempt to ward off the blow that no one else knew was coming. Hand and head went flying up in the air as tremendous energies and a fountain of blackish ichor were unleashed in a gushing flood. The lights of the room flickered as the Spirit of the creature was destroyed by the blade's deadly magick.
Dick Arnold sat stunned, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His hands clenched to the table as he watched the head of his long time servants head go flying, only to see the head of a monster land on the table with a thud. The empty eyes of an alien creature stared back at him.
El Diablito had the presence of mind to kick back from the table and stand up, a ball of powerful energy gathering around his right hand, ready to smite any who threatened him. "Bones, what is the meaning..."
The two guards reached for weapons at their sides, the guard on the right side ducking down to use the table as cover as he drew a weapon. The guard on the left had his pistol up and out in a standing postiion.
Only Papa Locks didn't react in utter surprise. Even though his head was obscured by the dark hood of the cloak, I saw it tip back as a laughter echoed forth, his shoulders shaking in mirth. "You see, Little Devil, I told you that butler was not who he seemed to be!"
I heard Zenny gasp in surprise, while Jim uttered a series of curses that would have shocked his students. I could feel Ravyn gathering her own power, whether in response to El Diablito or to my actions, I wasn't sure.
I reached down to the oozing form of the doppleganger on the floor, hooked my left hand into the hole at the top of its neck and pulled the body up for all to see. Excalibur still smoking in my right hand, I looked to my other enemies across the table.
"We need to talk."
(To be continued tonight...)
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Enemies Mine...Part 2
We were met in the lobby by a thin, tall, middle-aged black man wearing a black tuxedo, highly polished shoes, and white gloves. He had been waiting in the middle of the room, calmly ignoring the never-ending stream of humanity that simply parted around him as they sought the golden spawning grounds in the gaming rooms behind him.
As we approached however, he came to life as if having been turned on. His spoke as we came near and bowed his head ever so slightly in my direction. “Agent Rusty Bones, I presume?” His accent distinguished as someone who trained or lived in England for a very long time.
I stopped. “Yeah. I’m Agent Bones. What can I do for you?”
He tilted his head again in the faintest hint of a bow of deference. “My name is Chandler Grimes. I have been asked to take you to your party.”
“Have you now? And just what party is that Chandler?” I stared directly into his eyes, trying to gain his measure, quite aware that many people found it hard to look directly at me for any significant period of time.
He returned my gaze, unfazed and unblinking as he replied. “I am in the personal employ of Mr. Richard Arnold. He has asked me to meet you and your party and to escort you to his private chambers.”
I extended my right arm, palm up and open. “Well then, my good man, why don’t you lead the way?”
He bobbed his head one more time, looked directly at my three companions for the first time. He bowed more substantially to Raven and Zenny while he barely acknowledged Jim’s existence. He turned on a dime and began a slow, march through the ever changing stream of customers, effortlessly avoiding contact with any of them as made his way towards a roped off elevator just off the side of the main lobby.
As we moved to follow, Ravyn leaned over to me. “What happened with meeting him in a public place?”
Jim’s quizzical look asked the same question without any words.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to prevent anyone from reading my lips while I pretended to cough. “It’s OK. Trust me.”
She arched an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise respond.
A security guard pulled the velvet rope to the side, allowing us to follow behind Chandler into the elevator.
“Chandler, is an elevator necessary? This place can’t have more than four floors?”
The butler bobbed his head again before he spoke. “I am following my instructions, Agent Bones.”
The door closed as Jim brought up the rear of the party. It was just us and Chandler in the spacious elevator. I decided to take a chance and shifted in my vision into the Shadowland.
Chandler’s Spirit form was a very calm, deep blue in color and matched the shape and size of his body. His form looked right at me as I looked at him. It seemed that he gave me the same sort of slight nod that he had given me before. I shifted back into normal vision just as the elevator reached the third and top floor. The door opened with a chime.
Chandler somehow found a way through us and into the hall beyond before anyone could even shift out of his way. He didn’t seem to move that fast, but he was effortlessly leading the way again down a quiet, deserted hallway full of closed doors.
He stopped in front of a set of double doors, waiting for us to catch up to him. As we approached, he pulled open both doors so that they clicked into place and remained open without anyone holding onto them and stepped inside the beautifully appointed conference room.
Once inside, his announced in a loud, clear voice. “Mr. Arnold, it is my pleasure to announce the arrival of Agent Rusty Bones and party.” He turned to wave us into the room with his gloved left hand.
Stepping inside the large room, I saw Dick Arnold and El Diablito seated next to each other at the end of a long conference table. Standing behind them were three figures. Two of the figures, one to each side, were clearly guards, although they didn’t seem to be the same kind of goons that Drake and Dick Arnold had employed in the past. These two guys were clearly not your average soldier turned mercenary types.
But it was the third figure that caused me to stop in my tracks. I couldn’t make out any actual physical features because he was shrouded in a hooded dark cloak that obscured his face. But there was no mistaking that aura as soon as I saw him, I recognized him.
“Papa Locks!”
As we approached however, he came to life as if having been turned on. His spoke as we came near and bowed his head ever so slightly in my direction. “Agent Rusty Bones, I presume?” His accent distinguished as someone who trained or lived in England for a very long time.
I stopped. “Yeah. I’m Agent Bones. What can I do for you?”
He tilted his head again in the faintest hint of a bow of deference. “My name is Chandler Grimes. I have been asked to take you to your party.”
“Have you now? And just what party is that Chandler?” I stared directly into his eyes, trying to gain his measure, quite aware that many people found it hard to look directly at me for any significant period of time.
He returned my gaze, unfazed and unblinking as he replied. “I am in the personal employ of Mr. Richard Arnold. He has asked me to meet you and your party and to escort you to his private chambers.”
I extended my right arm, palm up and open. “Well then, my good man, why don’t you lead the way?”
He bobbed his head one more time, looked directly at my three companions for the first time. He bowed more substantially to Raven and Zenny while he barely acknowledged Jim’s existence. He turned on a dime and began a slow, march through the ever changing stream of customers, effortlessly avoiding contact with any of them as made his way towards a roped off elevator just off the side of the main lobby.
As we moved to follow, Ravyn leaned over to me. “What happened with meeting him in a public place?”
Jim’s quizzical look asked the same question without any words.
I brought my hand up to my mouth to prevent anyone from reading my lips while I pretended to cough. “It’s OK. Trust me.”
She arched an eyebrow at that, but didn’t otherwise respond.
A security guard pulled the velvet rope to the side, allowing us to follow behind Chandler into the elevator.
“Chandler, is an elevator necessary? This place can’t have more than four floors?”
The butler bobbed his head again before he spoke. “I am following my instructions, Agent Bones.”
The door closed as Jim brought up the rear of the party. It was just us and Chandler in the spacious elevator. I decided to take a chance and shifted in my vision into the Shadowland.
Chandler’s Spirit form was a very calm, deep blue in color and matched the shape and size of his body. His form looked right at me as I looked at him. It seemed that he gave me the same sort of slight nod that he had given me before. I shifted back into normal vision just as the elevator reached the third and top floor. The door opened with a chime.
Chandler somehow found a way through us and into the hall beyond before anyone could even shift out of his way. He didn’t seem to move that fast, but he was effortlessly leading the way again down a quiet, deserted hallway full of closed doors.
He stopped in front of a set of double doors, waiting for us to catch up to him. As we approached, he pulled open both doors so that they clicked into place and remained open without anyone holding onto them and stepped inside the beautifully appointed conference room.
Once inside, his announced in a loud, clear voice. “Mr. Arnold, it is my pleasure to announce the arrival of Agent Rusty Bones and party.” He turned to wave us into the room with his gloved left hand.
Stepping inside the large room, I saw Dick Arnold and El Diablito seated next to each other at the end of a long conference table. Standing behind them were three figures. Two of the figures, one to each side, were clearly guards, although they didn’t seem to be the same kind of goons that Drake and Dick Arnold had employed in the past. These two guys were clearly not your average soldier turned mercenary types.
But it was the third figure that caused me to stop in my tracks. I couldn’t make out any actual physical features because he was shrouded in a hooded dark cloak that obscured his face. But there was no mistaking that aura as soon as I saw him, I recognized him.
“Papa Locks!”
Enemies Mine...Part 1
We pulled into the unlighted parking lot on the edge of Detroit’s Greektown district. Jim backed the large white Co-op van into the spot the attendant had indicated, but not until the man had collected a $10 bill from the grumbling Jim.
Turning off the van, Jim turned to face the rest of us in the van. “I still think you should have agreed to meet him outside. Nothing good happens in a casino unless you happen to own the thing.”
“Yeah, well I was actually trying to keep everyone from freezing to death when we met with them. Plus the crowds will hopefully keep things from coming to blows between us and minimize any possible dirty tricks they can try to pull on us.”
Jim shook his head as he pocketed the keys to the van. “I don’t know about that, with Arnold’s money and influence, I’m worried that we’ll be walking into a trap.”
“Hey, they’re on my turf now, Jim. Trust me. I’ve got it all under control.”
Ravyn looked back from the front passenger seat, incredulous. “Trust you? After all of the times you’ve walked blindly into danger? Yeah, right. We’re not all dead, you know, and we’d rather not get that way! Let’s go.”
The four of us got out of the van, our boots crunching in the crusted snow that hadn’t been cleared in the week since the last storm. The cold winter air had enough bite in to show the breath of each of the other three in the party.
Zenny pulled her hijab closer to her forehead with her gloved hands. She stomped her feet and shivered as she waited for Ravyn and Jim to join us.
“How can people live in such a cold place?”
I shook my head. “Detroit’s not bad. A lot of your fellow Iraqi’s live here too.”
She looked down at her feet, pushing the snow side to side with her left boot. “I don’t know what could have brought them here.”
Happy to have a chance to talk about my native community and show a little of my local lore I decided to expound a little bit in her native tongue. “Well, Henry Ford and his $5 a day work day brought a lot of immigrants to this area starting about 80 years ago, including a lot of laborers from Yemen and Lebanon. I think the Iraqi’s are mostly refugees from Saddam though, they didn’t start coming in large numbers until the Iran/Iraq war started. The Detroit area is home to the largest concentration of Arabs outside of the Middle East. When we’re done here, we can probably get some good food for you from a really good bakery.”
Zenny replied in Arabic. “This is one Arab who wishes that it was warmer here in the winter.” She cracked a small smile and switched back to English. “Thank you, Rusty. It is always nice to hear you speak Arabic.”
As Jim and Ravyn joined us, we began the short walk to the casino. Jim carried a small backpack that he slung over his shoulder.
Ravyn walked silently next to him, her eyes darting between abandoned buildings and nearly empty lots. “This is downtown Detroit? I thought it would be a little more alive than this.”
Our crunching steps and hushed words were just then overshadowed by a siren as an ambulance screamed down a nearby street. “It’s actually better now than a few years ago. This entire area was empty, except for a few Greek restaurants. Before the casinos and the new stadiums, this entire section of the city was a wasteland.”
Jim harrumphed, waving his free right hand about as he spoke. “But how much public money was spent to attract and build those things here? I’ll bet that those tax dollars would have been better spent on something more productive than helping the wealthy get wealthier.”
I glanced over to Jim. “At least now there is something for people to do when they come to this city. Before this stuff, there wasn’t anything to bring them here.”
We rounded the corner and saw the glitzy signs of the casino and the bustle of patrons going in and out.
I stopped. “So is everyone ready? Any questions on the plan of action?”
All three shook their heads.
“OK, then, let’s get in, do our business, and get out.”
Turning off the van, Jim turned to face the rest of us in the van. “I still think you should have agreed to meet him outside. Nothing good happens in a casino unless you happen to own the thing.”
“Yeah, well I was actually trying to keep everyone from freezing to death when we met with them. Plus the crowds will hopefully keep things from coming to blows between us and minimize any possible dirty tricks they can try to pull on us.”
Jim shook his head as he pocketed the keys to the van. “I don’t know about that, with Arnold’s money and influence, I’m worried that we’ll be walking into a trap.”
“Hey, they’re on my turf now, Jim. Trust me. I’ve got it all under control.”
Ravyn looked back from the front passenger seat, incredulous. “Trust you? After all of the times you’ve walked blindly into danger? Yeah, right. We’re not all dead, you know, and we’d rather not get that way! Let’s go.”
The four of us got out of the van, our boots crunching in the crusted snow that hadn’t been cleared in the week since the last storm. The cold winter air had enough bite in to show the breath of each of the other three in the party.
Zenny pulled her hijab closer to her forehead with her gloved hands. She stomped her feet and shivered as she waited for Ravyn and Jim to join us.
“How can people live in such a cold place?”
I shook my head. “Detroit’s not bad. A lot of your fellow Iraqi’s live here too.”
She looked down at her feet, pushing the snow side to side with her left boot. “I don’t know what could have brought them here.”
Happy to have a chance to talk about my native community and show a little of my local lore I decided to expound a little bit in her native tongue. “Well, Henry Ford and his $5 a day work day brought a lot of immigrants to this area starting about 80 years ago, including a lot of laborers from Yemen and Lebanon. I think the Iraqi’s are mostly refugees from Saddam though, they didn’t start coming in large numbers until the Iran/Iraq war started. The Detroit area is home to the largest concentration of Arabs outside of the Middle East. When we’re done here, we can probably get some good food for you from a really good bakery.”
Zenny replied in Arabic. “This is one Arab who wishes that it was warmer here in the winter.” She cracked a small smile and switched back to English. “Thank you, Rusty. It is always nice to hear you speak Arabic.”
As Jim and Ravyn joined us, we began the short walk to the casino. Jim carried a small backpack that he slung over his shoulder.
Ravyn walked silently next to him, her eyes darting between abandoned buildings and nearly empty lots. “This is downtown Detroit? I thought it would be a little more alive than this.”
Our crunching steps and hushed words were just then overshadowed by a siren as an ambulance screamed down a nearby street. “It’s actually better now than a few years ago. This entire area was empty, except for a few Greek restaurants. Before the casinos and the new stadiums, this entire section of the city was a wasteland.”
Jim harrumphed, waving his free right hand about as he spoke. “But how much public money was spent to attract and build those things here? I’ll bet that those tax dollars would have been better spent on something more productive than helping the wealthy get wealthier.”
I glanced over to Jim. “At least now there is something for people to do when they come to this city. Before this stuff, there wasn’t anything to bring them here.”
We rounded the corner and saw the glitzy signs of the casino and the bustle of patrons going in and out.
I stopped. “So is everyone ready? Any questions on the plan of action?”
All three shook their heads.
“OK, then, let’s get in, do our business, and get out.”
Monday, February 19, 2007
The Zombie King Revealed
In frigid night air, I crunched through the snow in the backyard of the Coop once more. I was alone, or at least as alone as a person with the partial memories and consciousnesses of hundreds of people inside him ever could be.
I brushed the snow off of the stone bench and had a seat just outside of the small stone circle that had served so many times as a makeshift transit point. I reached with my right hand to pull out the chain that held Drake’s ring. I needed to know more about the man we called El Diablito and Drake was the only person I knew who would have the knowledge I needed. The problem is, he had been giving me the silent treatment since I stopped honoring our deal. I hadn’t let him post any of his stories in quite some time.
I took the necklace off and held the ring in my left hand. Perhaps it was time to try a new approach.
“Alright Drake, I need to talk.”
No response.
“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you the time I promised before, but I really need some information about El Diablito.”
Still nothing.
“Would you stop being such a baby about this? I’ll start posting your story again in March.”
The bastard was being really stubborn now.
“OK, OK, I’ll talk to Naomi about letting you meet Alexa.”
Now I felt some stirrings of interest inside the cursed ring.
“But I’m not going to do that unless you start answering some damn questions.”
“What do you want to know about him, Bones?”
“Finally! I need to know who the Hell this guy is and how he came to be so damn strong! How did you meet this guy?”
His droll voice chuckled inside my head. “I have a lot of respect for that little man, Bones. He has made himself into perhaps the most powerful Caster of his generation.”
“So he wasn’t always this strong?”
“No.”
“Then how did he get so strong? We’ve recovered an artifact of his, a Soulscope, from his old shop in Hialeah. Does that have something to do with who he is now?”
“Very good, Bones. I’m almost impressed. When I met Dr. Juergen Klimm for the first time it was in Munich, Germany sometime in 1936 or 1937. He was a psychoanalyst by training, but a Caster of some small talent. Perhaps more importantly than all, he was an inventor who was trying desperately to mix his magickal talents with his mechanical and technological devices. He felt that magick and technology should not be exclusive of each other.”
“What did he do for the Nazis?”
Drake chuckled again. “Well, his is not my tale to tell. But I will say that he developed this Soulscope that you have mentioned, as well as several other devices. He used those devices to further the interests of the Third Reich by helping to eradicate doubt and fear in the minds of certain cadres of soldiers and guards, and by helping to subdue the Casters among the populations that the Germans were working to eradicate. His devices became quite instrumental in the operation of the concentration camps, where he spent a great deal of his time. He earned several nicknames in his time there. My favorite was ‘The Zombie King’. He was called that because when he finished with his victims, they were docile creatures, empty shells of their former selves.
“By using those tools of his, he was able to pacify those folks while at the same time he was stealing the talents and knowledge of his victims, making himself more and more powerful.”
“He sounds like an evil mother fucker.”
“I see that you have yet to learn any manners, Bones. Dr. Klimm did not see himself as evil, of course. Most humans cannot conceive of themselves as evil, even when they are committing the worst of atrocities. There is always a higher purpose that their actions serve, at least in their own minds. Dr. Klimm was no different. He definitely believed in the Third Reich and the concept of the Aryan Race as superior. But he also believed that in some small way that he was helping even his victims.”
“How could he think that even as he stole their powers, pieces of their soul?”
“He knew that the people in those camps were going to be exterminated, but he felt that some of their essence should live on, in him, if no one else. Just think, Bones, he did much the same thing that you have come to do with the power over the Shadow that you acquired from the creature you called Ma Grendel. You taking the memories of Dr. Bernstein was very similar to what did with the tools he created. You and Dr. Klimm…oh excuse me, El Diablito, are very much kindred spirits. How does that make you feel now?”
“Like I might have to renege some more on that deal if you keep it up. So how did he escape from Germany and how did you two come to work together again?”
“By the end of the war, we had gone our separate ways. I joined forces with the Americans, eventually going there to continue my own work. Dr. Klimm ended up fleeing to Argentina and working his way up the South American continent to Haiti and Cuba as he continued to develop his tools and his powers. By the time I was ready to start the Omega Project, I had learned of a powerful little man in Hialeah who was now known by the name of El Diablito and who claimed to have some expertise in creating zombies. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“It seems like you are leaving out enough facts to fill a library.”
“Like I said, Bones, his story is not mine to tell. I have given you all that I care to at this point. You will have to make good on your many empty promises before I offer you any further assistance. Don’t get yourself destroyed before you live up to your obligations.”
I let go of the ring itself, letting it dangle from the chain, ending our conversation.
The nerve of that prick!
I brushed the snow off of the stone bench and had a seat just outside of the small stone circle that had served so many times as a makeshift transit point. I reached with my right hand to pull out the chain that held Drake’s ring. I needed to know more about the man we called El Diablito and Drake was the only person I knew who would have the knowledge I needed. The problem is, he had been giving me the silent treatment since I stopped honoring our deal. I hadn’t let him post any of his stories in quite some time.
I took the necklace off and held the ring in my left hand. Perhaps it was time to try a new approach.
“Alright Drake, I need to talk.”
No response.
“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you the time I promised before, but I really need some information about El Diablito.”
Still nothing.
“Would you stop being such a baby about this? I’ll start posting your story again in March.”
The bastard was being really stubborn now.
“OK, OK, I’ll talk to Naomi about letting you meet Alexa.”
Now I felt some stirrings of interest inside the cursed ring.
“But I’m not going to do that unless you start answering some damn questions.”
“What do you want to know about him, Bones?”
“Finally! I need to know who the Hell this guy is and how he came to be so damn strong! How did you meet this guy?”
His droll voice chuckled inside my head. “I have a lot of respect for that little man, Bones. He has made himself into perhaps the most powerful Caster of his generation.”
“So he wasn’t always this strong?”
“No.”
“Then how did he get so strong? We’ve recovered an artifact of his, a Soulscope, from his old shop in Hialeah. Does that have something to do with who he is now?”
“Very good, Bones. I’m almost impressed. When I met Dr. Juergen Klimm for the first time it was in Munich, Germany sometime in 1936 or 1937. He was a psychoanalyst by training, but a Caster of some small talent. Perhaps more importantly than all, he was an inventor who was trying desperately to mix his magickal talents with his mechanical and technological devices. He felt that magick and technology should not be exclusive of each other.”
“What did he do for the Nazis?”
Drake chuckled again. “Well, his is not my tale to tell. But I will say that he developed this Soulscope that you have mentioned, as well as several other devices. He used those devices to further the interests of the Third Reich by helping to eradicate doubt and fear in the minds of certain cadres of soldiers and guards, and by helping to subdue the Casters among the populations that the Germans were working to eradicate. His devices became quite instrumental in the operation of the concentration camps, where he spent a great deal of his time. He earned several nicknames in his time there. My favorite was ‘The Zombie King’. He was called that because when he finished with his victims, they were docile creatures, empty shells of their former selves.
“By using those tools of his, he was able to pacify those folks while at the same time he was stealing the talents and knowledge of his victims, making himself more and more powerful.”
“He sounds like an evil mother fucker.”
“I see that you have yet to learn any manners, Bones. Dr. Klimm did not see himself as evil, of course. Most humans cannot conceive of themselves as evil, even when they are committing the worst of atrocities. There is always a higher purpose that their actions serve, at least in their own minds. Dr. Klimm was no different. He definitely believed in the Third Reich and the concept of the Aryan Race as superior. But he also believed that in some small way that he was helping even his victims.”
“How could he think that even as he stole their powers, pieces of their soul?”
“He knew that the people in those camps were going to be exterminated, but he felt that some of their essence should live on, in him, if no one else. Just think, Bones, he did much the same thing that you have come to do with the power over the Shadow that you acquired from the creature you called Ma Grendel. You taking the memories of Dr. Bernstein was very similar to what did with the tools he created. You and Dr. Klimm…oh excuse me, El Diablito, are very much kindred spirits. How does that make you feel now?”
“Like I might have to renege some more on that deal if you keep it up. So how did he escape from Germany and how did you two come to work together again?”
“By the end of the war, we had gone our separate ways. I joined forces with the Americans, eventually going there to continue my own work. Dr. Klimm ended up fleeing to Argentina and working his way up the South American continent to Haiti and Cuba as he continued to develop his tools and his powers. By the time I was ready to start the Omega Project, I had learned of a powerful little man in Hialeah who was now known by the name of El Diablito and who claimed to have some expertise in creating zombies. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“It seems like you are leaving out enough facts to fill a library.”
“Like I said, Bones, his story is not mine to tell. I have given you all that I care to at this point. You will have to make good on your many empty promises before I offer you any further assistance. Don’t get yourself destroyed before you live up to your obligations.”
I let go of the ring itself, letting it dangle from the chain, ending our conversation.
The nerve of that prick!
Sunday, February 18, 2007
The Soulscope
The stethoscope head sat on the table between the professor and me. We had commandeered this room, the library at the Coop from the couple of drowsy young students who had still been pretending to be studying, and shut the doors while Ravyn helped get Zenny to her room.
The larger, flatter side of the piece was plain and unremarkable. That side was made entirely out of dull but unstained steel. Its shallow cone shape appeared to be designed to be placed directly on the skin of the victim, much as the flat side of a normal stethoscope would be placed on a patient to enable a doctor to hear the patient’s heartbeat.
The darker, more sinister-looking part of the device was the hard, enameled knob on top of it. That’s where the swastika sat staring back up. There was a pair of small nozzles onto which I presumed small rubber hosing could be attached. If this thing were a normal stethoscope, those nozzles would feed the sound of the patient’s heartbeat up to the pieces that the doctor would insert into his ears. I had no idea why the nozzles would be needed on this device, or what it actually did.
Jim shifted in his chair first, causing it to groan and creak as he did so. “So, what is thing? I know what it looks like, but I get the feeling that it isn’t really what it looks like. And why did El Diablito leave the thing there? It seems like it would have some value to him.”
“When I took it from Zenny, just touching that thing awakened the Voices inside me that have been pretty dormant for a while. This thing looks old enough to have been used by the Nazis. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if El Diablito himself hadn’t worked with the Nazis. Drake had originally told me that a lot of the secret stuff that the Allies took from the Nazis related to magick. He also said that a lot of those practitioners escaped to different parts of the world.”
The door opened and closed quietly behind me. I saw Jim’s eyes and face light up for the briefest of moments before his features settled back into a look of concern. “How’s Zenny doing, Ravyn?”
“She was protesting the whole way to her room, but she collapsed into a deep sleep as soon as she hit her pillow.” Ravyn pulled a chair up to the table, turned it around and sat on it backwards, looking intently at the device that lay on the table. “I don’t like the feelings I’m getting from that thing one little bit. When we’re done with it, I want it taken far away from here. I don’t want to risk any students getting a little too curious.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll take it with me when we go to see the bastard in Detroit, tomorrow night.”
Jim’s lips pursed in thought. “Are you sure that’s wise? What if he left it there for just such a possibility? He did have that phone set up for you guys.”
Ravyn placed her hands on the table and leaned in for a closer look without actually touching the thing. “Zenny did manage to tell me that she felt that something was in that room, but that she had to dig around for it the corner of the room. I don’t think he left it there on purpose. There’s no way he could have known someone with Zenny’s sensitivity would have been in the group to check that place out.”
Jim watched as Ravyn leaned in real close to the thing and then backed away. He finally breathed when she was far enough away not to touch it by accident. “Then if it is something that he lost, are we really sure that we want to take it with us? He might want the thing back, and I don’t think this is something we want in his hands.”
I shook my head. “He’s not going to get the thing back. That much is for sure. What’s this ‘we’ stuff anyway, Jim?”
He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sat up straight again. “I’m going with you to Detroit.”
“Just like that, huh? No discussion about possible dangers or who else we might ask to come along?” I looked to Ravyn for some support. “I don’t think that they’ll let us take any visible weapons into the casino, Jim.”
Ravyn glanced from me to Jim, then reached out and touched Jim on the shoulder with her right hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I think Jim should go too. We’re not planning on fighting in any event. But even it comes down to that, Jim can hold his own, even without his Louisville Slugger.”
Looking between these two, I saw that they had a united front against me, so I shrugged my shoulders and gave up. “OK, it just means I’ll have to watch out for another person.”
Jim’s brow furrowed at that. “I can take care of myself, Rusty.”
I shrugged again and reached out to touch the device on the table. “I just think we need to puzzle out what this thing actually is before we go…”
Behind us the door opened again, this time with a bang. As we turned to look back at who would interrupt us, we saw the slight figure of Zenny standing in the doorway, her head uncovered and barefoot in a heavy white bathrobe instead of the black outfit she had on previously.
Ravyn was already standing up and starting towards the door. “Zenny, dear, you should be getting some…”
Zenny brushed a stray strand of black hair from in front of her face and dismissed Ravyn’s concern with a shake of her head. “No. I’m OK.” She entered the room, closing the door behind her. She kept one hand on the front of the bathrobe, near her neck, keeping it closed more than it would have been if she had relied on the belt at her waist.
We all watched as she walked up to the table where the device still sat, she stood across from Ravyn.
There were dark splotches under her eyes and her cheeks were still moist with tears, but her mouth had a determined set about it as she stared down at the Nazi symbol.
When she spoke, her voice sounded hollow and distant. “That device was called a Soulscope. It was the first one of its kind. The man you call El Diablito designed it around seventy years ago as a Nazi researcher.”
Jim cocked his head. “A Soulscope? What does it do?”
Zenny choked back a sob as she remembered her intimate contact with the device. “In the hands of someone like El Diablito, it can be used to suck the soul out of living bodies, in part or in whole. In the hands of lesser talented individuals, its uses are more limited.”
“How so?”
Zenny shuddered pushed back another bunch of stray hair before answering. “Professor, you would probably only be able to ‘listen’ to the soul of another person, but you might know if that person were telling you the truth, or you might even hear what their darkest fears were.” She turned her head away from the thing, even as she still stood there. “That particular device was used both by El Diablito to conduct some of his early experiments and was later given to some SS guards at a death camp to learn more about what manner of death or torture scared the victims more. It had been lost in the war and was only recovered in the last five years. Even that heartless man couldn’t stand the way it feels now. That’s probably why he didn’t look too hard for it when his office was packed up.”
She looked back down at the device before reaching out to pick it up in a move that surprised all of us. She had it in her palm before any of could move to stop her.
Ravyn gasped, “Zenny, what are you…?”
Jim pushed back from the table as if getting ready to stand up.
I just sat there watching her with keen interest.
Zenny, one hand still holding the neck of her robe closed held the item up for all of us to see with her right hand. “I’m alright now. I was simply caught off guard by the evil of this thing and what it had been used for. This device is crude compared to the tools that he uses now, but he will not be amused to see that we have one of his early prototypes.
“I’m going to Detroit with you as well, and I think I should hold onto this for safekeeping. It has no more power over me.”
The larger, flatter side of the piece was plain and unremarkable. That side was made entirely out of dull but unstained steel. Its shallow cone shape appeared to be designed to be placed directly on the skin of the victim, much as the flat side of a normal stethoscope would be placed on a patient to enable a doctor to hear the patient’s heartbeat.
The darker, more sinister-looking part of the device was the hard, enameled knob on top of it. That’s where the swastika sat staring back up. There was a pair of small nozzles onto which I presumed small rubber hosing could be attached. If this thing were a normal stethoscope, those nozzles would feed the sound of the patient’s heartbeat up to the pieces that the doctor would insert into his ears. I had no idea why the nozzles would be needed on this device, or what it actually did.
Jim shifted in his chair first, causing it to groan and creak as he did so. “So, what is thing? I know what it looks like, but I get the feeling that it isn’t really what it looks like. And why did El Diablito leave the thing there? It seems like it would have some value to him.”
“When I took it from Zenny, just touching that thing awakened the Voices inside me that have been pretty dormant for a while. This thing looks old enough to have been used by the Nazis. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if El Diablito himself hadn’t worked with the Nazis. Drake had originally told me that a lot of the secret stuff that the Allies took from the Nazis related to magick. He also said that a lot of those practitioners escaped to different parts of the world.”
The door opened and closed quietly behind me. I saw Jim’s eyes and face light up for the briefest of moments before his features settled back into a look of concern. “How’s Zenny doing, Ravyn?”
“She was protesting the whole way to her room, but she collapsed into a deep sleep as soon as she hit her pillow.” Ravyn pulled a chair up to the table, turned it around and sat on it backwards, looking intently at the device that lay on the table. “I don’t like the feelings I’m getting from that thing one little bit. When we’re done with it, I want it taken far away from here. I don’t want to risk any students getting a little too curious.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll take it with me when we go to see the bastard in Detroit, tomorrow night.”
Jim’s lips pursed in thought. “Are you sure that’s wise? What if he left it there for just such a possibility? He did have that phone set up for you guys.”
Ravyn placed her hands on the table and leaned in for a closer look without actually touching the thing. “Zenny did manage to tell me that she felt that something was in that room, but that she had to dig around for it the corner of the room. I don’t think he left it there on purpose. There’s no way he could have known someone with Zenny’s sensitivity would have been in the group to check that place out.”
Jim watched as Ravyn leaned in real close to the thing and then backed away. He finally breathed when she was far enough away not to touch it by accident. “Then if it is something that he lost, are we really sure that we want to take it with us? He might want the thing back, and I don’t think this is something we want in his hands.”
I shook my head. “He’s not going to get the thing back. That much is for sure. What’s this ‘we’ stuff anyway, Jim?”
He cleared his throat and crossed his arms as he sat up straight again. “I’m going with you to Detroit.”
“Just like that, huh? No discussion about possible dangers or who else we might ask to come along?” I looked to Ravyn for some support. “I don’t think that they’ll let us take any visible weapons into the casino, Jim.”
Ravyn glanced from me to Jim, then reached out and touched Jim on the shoulder with her right hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I think Jim should go too. We’re not planning on fighting in any event. But even it comes down to that, Jim can hold his own, even without his Louisville Slugger.”
Looking between these two, I saw that they had a united front against me, so I shrugged my shoulders and gave up. “OK, it just means I’ll have to watch out for another person.”
Jim’s brow furrowed at that. “I can take care of myself, Rusty.”
I shrugged again and reached out to touch the device on the table. “I just think we need to puzzle out what this thing actually is before we go…”
Behind us the door opened again, this time with a bang. As we turned to look back at who would interrupt us, we saw the slight figure of Zenny standing in the doorway, her head uncovered and barefoot in a heavy white bathrobe instead of the black outfit she had on previously.
Ravyn was already standing up and starting towards the door. “Zenny, dear, you should be getting some…”
Zenny brushed a stray strand of black hair from in front of her face and dismissed Ravyn’s concern with a shake of her head. “No. I’m OK.” She entered the room, closing the door behind her. She kept one hand on the front of the bathrobe, near her neck, keeping it closed more than it would have been if she had relied on the belt at her waist.
We all watched as she walked up to the table where the device still sat, she stood across from Ravyn.
There were dark splotches under her eyes and her cheeks were still moist with tears, but her mouth had a determined set about it as she stared down at the Nazi symbol.
When she spoke, her voice sounded hollow and distant. “That device was called a Soulscope. It was the first one of its kind. The man you call El Diablito designed it around seventy years ago as a Nazi researcher.”
Jim cocked his head. “A Soulscope? What does it do?”
Zenny choked back a sob as she remembered her intimate contact with the device. “In the hands of someone like El Diablito, it can be used to suck the soul out of living bodies, in part or in whole. In the hands of lesser talented individuals, its uses are more limited.”
“How so?”
Zenny shuddered pushed back another bunch of stray hair before answering. “Professor, you would probably only be able to ‘listen’ to the soul of another person, but you might know if that person were telling you the truth, or you might even hear what their darkest fears were.” She turned her head away from the thing, even as she still stood there. “That particular device was used both by El Diablito to conduct some of his early experiments and was later given to some SS guards at a death camp to learn more about what manner of death or torture scared the victims more. It had been lost in the war and was only recovered in the last five years. Even that heartless man couldn’t stand the way it feels now. That’s probably why he didn’t look too hard for it when his office was packed up.”
She looked back down at the device before reaching out to pick it up in a move that surprised all of us. She had it in her palm before any of could move to stop her.
Ravyn gasped, “Zenny, what are you…?”
Jim pushed back from the table as if getting ready to stand up.
I just sat there watching her with keen interest.
Zenny, one hand still holding the neck of her robe closed held the item up for all of us to see with her right hand. “I’m alright now. I was simply caught off guard by the evil of this thing and what it had been used for. This device is crude compared to the tools that he uses now, but he will not be amused to see that we have one of his early prototypes.
“I’m going to Detroit with you as well, and I think I should hold onto this for safekeeping. It has no more power over me.”
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Opening Gambit...Postscript
I slammed the phone down. “That bastard has something up his sleeve.”
Ravyn nodded. “I’m very interested in what Zenny discovered about him just by touching that front door.” She glanced over to where Zenny had been standing moments ago and did a double take as she realized that Zenny wasn’t there any more. “Hey, where did she go?”
I looked around as well. “Zenny? Where are you?”
No response.
Ravyn shook her head and turned in a circle, looking about the empty room. “She can’t have gone very far.”
I nodded over toward the farthest door in the room, shifting my vision partially into Shadowland. “What’s that over there? I think she’s in there.”
My boots scuffed the cement floor as I walked, stiff-legged to the door, Ravyn close behind.
I pushed the door in, revealing a small back office that I hadn’t seen in my last visit to this shop.
Inside the cramped office, Zenny was kneeling on the floor and rocking back and forth in a rhythmic manner. Her bare hands were clasped together. Her eyes were clenched as tightly as her hands while her lips were moving in sync with her body. Zenny’s gloves lay stacked on the floor next to her. The office itself was lacking in any major furniture, but there was a blizzard of paper scattered about.
Ravyn slipped around me as I stopped at the doorway. She knelt down next to Zenny without actually touching her. “Zenny, what’s going on?”
No response. She continued to sway, her eyes remained closed, and her lips continued to move silently as if deep in meditation or prayer.
I stepped into the room. I reached deep inside the captured memories from Ma Grendel, looking for words in her native tongue. I spoke to her in Arabic. “Do you need help?” I reached out to touch her.
Ravyn stopped me from interrupting her. “No, Rusty. I think she needs to do this. There is powerful magick taking place right now. If we break her trance, there’s no telling what may happen.”
I stood back up and retreated. I let slip the connections between my body and Spirit form and slipped spiritually into the Shadowland. There I saw Ravyn’s fiery red form now focused back on the kneeling form of Zenny.
My attention was immediately drawn to Zenny’s form. Normally, Zenny’s Spirit form ranged from soft, dark violet to deep blue. Right at the moment, however, her colors had shifted to vibrant, pulsating hues of orange and yellow. The glow was strongest at her clasped hands, as if she were trying to contain something very powerful within them.
Using a portion of my essence, I stretched out a tendril towards her hands, getting as close as I could without actually touching her. It was quite difficult to do, because there are unseen fields of resistance between different individual Spirit forms. The resistance can be overcome through force of Will but it is exceptionally hard to push very close to another form without actually completely overpowering that resistance.
The closer I got though, the more I sensed something desperately wrong. I felt an overpowering sense of evil emanating from that source between her hands. I could also tell that she was trying desperately to shield us from the pain that she was so clearly experiencing.
That was enough for me. I snapped back into my body and dropped to my knees in front of her and took her still clasped hands in mine.
“Rusty, what are you doing? What’s wrong?” Ravyn’s voice was cracking with concern.
“She’s got a hold of something. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.” Her fingers were clenched tight. Gently at first, I began to pry her fingers away from whatever it was that she was holding.
Zenny gasped in pain as both her rhythm and her grasp was broken. Her left hand loosed and went limp as I managed to reach inside and grab the object. She collapsed into Ravyn’s arms, her chest heaving, tears running down her face. Her choking sobs were loud at first, but were quickly soothed by a deliberately calm Ravyn.
I opened my own palm and looked at what had caused all of this fuss. It seemed innocuous enough—the small metal head of what looked to be a stethoscope. But turning it over in my palm, the back side of it showed something far more sinister. A small symbol was engraved on the backside. It was symbol that even I recognized. It was a swastika.
“What is it, Rusty?”
Even without slipping into the Shadowland, I could feel the power of the thing. Deep inside of my being, the dark whispers of entities slain and consumed long ago by Ma Grendel awakened once again. Their voices ate at my consciousness, calling out in glee at the discovery of this evil tool.
“Feed us!”
“Let us take them!”
“We hunger!”
I closed my hand around the object and tamped the whispers back down into the bowels of my soul. The realization at what I had in my hands had shaken me to my very core. “It’s something from the Nazi’s. I think it was used by El Diablito in the concentration camps for something, but I can’t open myself to it just yet. It is stirring up things inside me that I can’t risk letting loose right now.”
Zenny had stopped sobbing now and seemed to be resting Ravyn’s arms.
“We need to get back to the Coop and find out what she has seen, both from this damn thing and from the door.”
Ravyn nodded. “Let’s get back there quickly.”
I shoved the stethoscope head into my pocket and reached down to pick up Zenny. “We’re taking the express road back, babe. Don’t forget her gloves.”
I stood up and waited for Ravyn to collect her gloves and join me. I called the Shadow as soon as she was ready. This time, Zombie Air provided direct, door-to-door service right back to Ravyn’s study.
Ravyn nodded. “I’m very interested in what Zenny discovered about him just by touching that front door.” She glanced over to where Zenny had been standing moments ago and did a double take as she realized that Zenny wasn’t there any more. “Hey, where did she go?”
I looked around as well. “Zenny? Where are you?”
No response.
Ravyn shook her head and turned in a circle, looking about the empty room. “She can’t have gone very far.”
I nodded over toward the farthest door in the room, shifting my vision partially into Shadowland. “What’s that over there? I think she’s in there.”
My boots scuffed the cement floor as I walked, stiff-legged to the door, Ravyn close behind.
I pushed the door in, revealing a small back office that I hadn’t seen in my last visit to this shop.
Inside the cramped office, Zenny was kneeling on the floor and rocking back and forth in a rhythmic manner. Her bare hands were clasped together. Her eyes were clenched as tightly as her hands while her lips were moving in sync with her body. Zenny’s gloves lay stacked on the floor next to her. The office itself was lacking in any major furniture, but there was a blizzard of paper scattered about.
Ravyn slipped around me as I stopped at the doorway. She knelt down next to Zenny without actually touching her. “Zenny, what’s going on?”
No response. She continued to sway, her eyes remained closed, and her lips continued to move silently as if deep in meditation or prayer.
I stepped into the room. I reached deep inside the captured memories from Ma Grendel, looking for words in her native tongue. I spoke to her in Arabic. “Do you need help?” I reached out to touch her.
Ravyn stopped me from interrupting her. “No, Rusty. I think she needs to do this. There is powerful magick taking place right now. If we break her trance, there’s no telling what may happen.”
I stood back up and retreated. I let slip the connections between my body and Spirit form and slipped spiritually into the Shadowland. There I saw Ravyn’s fiery red form now focused back on the kneeling form of Zenny.
My attention was immediately drawn to Zenny’s form. Normally, Zenny’s Spirit form ranged from soft, dark violet to deep blue. Right at the moment, however, her colors had shifted to vibrant, pulsating hues of orange and yellow. The glow was strongest at her clasped hands, as if she were trying to contain something very powerful within them.
Using a portion of my essence, I stretched out a tendril towards her hands, getting as close as I could without actually touching her. It was quite difficult to do, because there are unseen fields of resistance between different individual Spirit forms. The resistance can be overcome through force of Will but it is exceptionally hard to push very close to another form without actually completely overpowering that resistance.
The closer I got though, the more I sensed something desperately wrong. I felt an overpowering sense of evil emanating from that source between her hands. I could also tell that she was trying desperately to shield us from the pain that she was so clearly experiencing.
That was enough for me. I snapped back into my body and dropped to my knees in front of her and took her still clasped hands in mine.
“Rusty, what are you doing? What’s wrong?” Ravyn’s voice was cracking with concern.
“She’s got a hold of something. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.” Her fingers were clenched tight. Gently at first, I began to pry her fingers away from whatever it was that she was holding.
Zenny gasped in pain as both her rhythm and her grasp was broken. Her left hand loosed and went limp as I managed to reach inside and grab the object. She collapsed into Ravyn’s arms, her chest heaving, tears running down her face. Her choking sobs were loud at first, but were quickly soothed by a deliberately calm Ravyn.
I opened my own palm and looked at what had caused all of this fuss. It seemed innocuous enough—the small metal head of what looked to be a stethoscope. But turning it over in my palm, the back side of it showed something far more sinister. A small symbol was engraved on the backside. It was symbol that even I recognized. It was a swastika.
“What is it, Rusty?”
Even without slipping into the Shadowland, I could feel the power of the thing. Deep inside of my being, the dark whispers of entities slain and consumed long ago by Ma Grendel awakened once again. Their voices ate at my consciousness, calling out in glee at the discovery of this evil tool.
“Feed us!”
“Let us take them!”
“We hunger!”
I closed my hand around the object and tamped the whispers back down into the bowels of my soul. The realization at what I had in my hands had shaken me to my very core. “It’s something from the Nazi’s. I think it was used by El Diablito in the concentration camps for something, but I can’t open myself to it just yet. It is stirring up things inside me that I can’t risk letting loose right now.”
Zenny had stopped sobbing now and seemed to be resting Ravyn’s arms.
“We need to get back to the Coop and find out what she has seen, both from this damn thing and from the door.”
Ravyn nodded. “Let’s get back there quickly.”
I shoved the stethoscope head into my pocket and reached down to pick up Zenny. “We’re taking the express road back, babe. Don’t forget her gloves.”
I stood up and waited for Ravyn to collect her gloves and join me. I called the Shadow as soon as she was ready. This time, Zombie Air provided direct, door-to-door service right back to Ravyn’s study.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
A Little Zombie Love
Just a short little note to express my undying love to all of the luscious and inspirational ladies in my (un)life:
To Cerrydwen(Pat): My Soulmate Forever...
To Jasmine (Kerry): My Shining Light...
To Frau (Mom): My Strong Foundation...
To Ravyn (Candii): My Dear Friend...
Happy Valentines Day...
Next post due on Thursday, because tomorrow...(cue the cheesy 70's guitar music)...is for Zombie Lovin'....
Doug
To Cerrydwen(Pat): My Soulmate Forever...
To Jasmine (Kerry): My Shining Light...
To Frau (Mom): My Strong Foundation...
To Ravyn (Candii): My Dear Friend...
Happy Valentines Day...
Next post due on Thursday, because tomorrow...(cue the cheesy 70's guitar music)...is for Zombie Lovin'....
Doug
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Opening Gambit...Conclusion
The narrow doorway led directly into a cramped area that was still crowded with bookshelves, although these were now empty, except for dust, cobwebs, and a number of the small, green lizards that were so common to South Florida. They little critters scurried away as I entered.
Bob’s glow shed soft, yellow light upon the room, which only served to highlight how long it had been since any humans had been here. Ravyn and Zenny followed closely behind Bob.
I pushed past the rows of empty bookshelves towards the short hallway that led back to the room where in some small way I had lost a part of my humanity. It was back there that I had succumbed to the drugs in the tea and cookies that El Diablito had given me, only to wake up in the morning to discover the Chakra necklace handing around my neck.
There had been a small envelope with an airline ticket back to Washington and instructions to leave the necklace on at all times. I wouldn’t learn of the true importance of wearing that cursed thing for several more years, but that story has been told elsewhere on this blog.
At the moment, I was more concerned about any surprises the bastard may have left for unplanned visitors than I was about my own checkered past. Collapsed baton still held firmly in my right hand, I edged down the hall, ready for anything…or so I thought anyway.
A second curtained doorway obscured the large room that I knew to be in the back of the shop. I stepped up to the curtain, flicked out my baton to its full extension, and used it to brush aside the raggedy curtains. The only sounds to be heard were the heavy, expectant breaths of Ravyn and Zenny, the skittering of tiny clawed feet as the little lizards sought their refuge and Bob’s happy chirping sounds as he floated above us, happy to be exploring new environs.
When I had last been here, this room had been furnished with a number of mismatched, battered couches lined up along three walls, while the fourth wall had been taken up by a curtained off stage set between two doorways. The center of the room had been occupied by a cluttered table and its own mismatched wooden chairs. Now when I looked in the barren room, I was impressed with its size. It easily took up over half of the room of the entire shop. But what immediately drew my attention was the telephone sitting in the middle of the floor of the vast room.
It was one of those old rotary phones. It was deep red in color, reminiscent of the phones shown in old Cold War movies that sat on the desk of the President of the United States and in the Kremlin.
Bob floated into the room above me and naturally gravitated towards the center of this vast new space to explore, while Ravyn and Zenny slipped to either side of me.
I stood there unmoving, just inside the doorway, staring at that damn phone. There was something very odd about that phone sitting there, but I couldn’t place it immediately.
Ravyn was the first to break the silence of our group. “What is it Rusty?”
“That phone. It wasn’t here before.”
“So?”
“There something wrong with it. But I just can’t place it.”
Zenny touched my shoulder with her right hand and pointed with her left hand. “Why would someone leave an unplugged phone sitting in the middle of the floor?”
I smacked my forehead with my left hand. “That’s it. There’s no line leading up to. It’s not plugged in. They must have just left the old thing sitting there since it probably couldn’t be used anymore.”
Relieved at having figured out what had me so unsettled, I moved towards the phone.
It rang.
It was loud, bell clanging ring that caused both of the gals to jump back and catch their breaths.
It rang again.
I scanned the room with normal vision and then again with eye towards the Shadowland, just to be sure there wasn’t some hidden trap. The only thing that registered as out of the ordinary was that phone. As it rang a third time, I noticed that it glowed with a magickal energy that perhaps explained how it could be ringing without being connected to any actual phone line.
I moved to the center of the room, standing over the phone.
It rang a fourth time.
I reached down to pick it up, reasonably certain that I would be talking to an old foe. “Yeah?”
That familiar cackling laughter came through loud and clear over the phone’s hand set. “So you’ve finally come back home, eh Bones?”
“What do you want, old man?”
His voice took on a serious tone. “We need to talk, Bones.”
“What about?”
“We have many things to discuss, Jason. I understand that you don’t trust me right now, but we need to come to an understanding. I’m not Drake. He’s gone now, so there is a new order to be established.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed audibly. “Drake was driven by certain things from his past. You know about those things as well as I do now. I don’t have that same baggage that he did. I can acknowledge my failures in dealing with you and your friends in the past and I can move on from them. I would like us to arrange a meeting where we can hash out our differences in an amicable way. I have no desire to keep you as an enemy, Jason; we can do so much more together than we can separately.”
Ravyn and Zenny had both moved in close enough to me now to be able to listen in on the conversation as well.
I looked from Zenny to Ravyn to see if either of them had any input. Zenny pursed her lips in concentration, but just shrugged her shoulders. Ravyn’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as she motioned with one hand that I should keep talking.
“OK, I can see some possibilities. Where would you want to meet with me?”
He laughed. It was a hearty, deep laugh that sounded disturbingly normal for this crazy old coot. “Well, I doubt that saucy, red-headed wench friend of yours will allow me to set the meeting place. Why don’t you ask her where she’d like us to meet?”
Ravyn’s mouth dropped open as she heard that. “Why I never…”
“I think she should come along for our little meeting. I look forward to showing her my hand, thanks to that dreadful bird of hers.”
I waved Ravyn quiet with my right hand, letting the baton slip to the ground next to the phone. “Look, old man, where do you want to meet with us then? It should be somewhere nice and public. I don’t want any damn surprises.”
He sighed again. “Fine, take all of the fun out of this, will you? How about we meet near your hometown, in one of those casinos in Detroit? You name the particular place and time. That should be public enough for all of us.”
I nodded. “Fine. Let’s meet in Greektown exactly 24 hours from now, bring that prick Dick Arnold with you as well.” I looked at my watch to fix the time in my head.
“Done.” The phone went silent.
Bob’s glow shed soft, yellow light upon the room, which only served to highlight how long it had been since any humans had been here. Ravyn and Zenny followed closely behind Bob.
I pushed past the rows of empty bookshelves towards the short hallway that led back to the room where in some small way I had lost a part of my humanity. It was back there that I had succumbed to the drugs in the tea and cookies that El Diablito had given me, only to wake up in the morning to discover the Chakra necklace handing around my neck.
There had been a small envelope with an airline ticket back to Washington and instructions to leave the necklace on at all times. I wouldn’t learn of the true importance of wearing that cursed thing for several more years, but that story has been told elsewhere on this blog.
At the moment, I was more concerned about any surprises the bastard may have left for unplanned visitors than I was about my own checkered past. Collapsed baton still held firmly in my right hand, I edged down the hall, ready for anything…or so I thought anyway.
A second curtained doorway obscured the large room that I knew to be in the back of the shop. I stepped up to the curtain, flicked out my baton to its full extension, and used it to brush aside the raggedy curtains. The only sounds to be heard were the heavy, expectant breaths of Ravyn and Zenny, the skittering of tiny clawed feet as the little lizards sought their refuge and Bob’s happy chirping sounds as he floated above us, happy to be exploring new environs.
When I had last been here, this room had been furnished with a number of mismatched, battered couches lined up along three walls, while the fourth wall had been taken up by a curtained off stage set between two doorways. The center of the room had been occupied by a cluttered table and its own mismatched wooden chairs. Now when I looked in the barren room, I was impressed with its size. It easily took up over half of the room of the entire shop. But what immediately drew my attention was the telephone sitting in the middle of the floor of the vast room.
It was one of those old rotary phones. It was deep red in color, reminiscent of the phones shown in old Cold War movies that sat on the desk of the President of the United States and in the Kremlin.
Bob floated into the room above me and naturally gravitated towards the center of this vast new space to explore, while Ravyn and Zenny slipped to either side of me.
I stood there unmoving, just inside the doorway, staring at that damn phone. There was something very odd about that phone sitting there, but I couldn’t place it immediately.
Ravyn was the first to break the silence of our group. “What is it Rusty?”
“That phone. It wasn’t here before.”
“So?”
“There something wrong with it. But I just can’t place it.”
Zenny touched my shoulder with her right hand and pointed with her left hand. “Why would someone leave an unplugged phone sitting in the middle of the floor?”
I smacked my forehead with my left hand. “That’s it. There’s no line leading up to. It’s not plugged in. They must have just left the old thing sitting there since it probably couldn’t be used anymore.”
Relieved at having figured out what had me so unsettled, I moved towards the phone.
It rang.
It was loud, bell clanging ring that caused both of the gals to jump back and catch their breaths.
It rang again.
I scanned the room with normal vision and then again with eye towards the Shadowland, just to be sure there wasn’t some hidden trap. The only thing that registered as out of the ordinary was that phone. As it rang a third time, I noticed that it glowed with a magickal energy that perhaps explained how it could be ringing without being connected to any actual phone line.
I moved to the center of the room, standing over the phone.
It rang a fourth time.
I reached down to pick it up, reasonably certain that I would be talking to an old foe. “Yeah?”
That familiar cackling laughter came through loud and clear over the phone’s hand set. “So you’ve finally come back home, eh Bones?”
“What do you want, old man?”
His voice took on a serious tone. “We need to talk, Bones.”
“What about?”
“We have many things to discuss, Jason. I understand that you don’t trust me right now, but we need to come to an understanding. I’m not Drake. He’s gone now, so there is a new order to be established.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed audibly. “Drake was driven by certain things from his past. You know about those things as well as I do now. I don’t have that same baggage that he did. I can acknowledge my failures in dealing with you and your friends in the past and I can move on from them. I would like us to arrange a meeting where we can hash out our differences in an amicable way. I have no desire to keep you as an enemy, Jason; we can do so much more together than we can separately.”
Ravyn and Zenny had both moved in close enough to me now to be able to listen in on the conversation as well.
I looked from Zenny to Ravyn to see if either of them had any input. Zenny pursed her lips in concentration, but just shrugged her shoulders. Ravyn’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as she motioned with one hand that I should keep talking.
“OK, I can see some possibilities. Where would you want to meet with me?”
He laughed. It was a hearty, deep laugh that sounded disturbingly normal for this crazy old coot. “Well, I doubt that saucy, red-headed wench friend of yours will allow me to set the meeting place. Why don’t you ask her where she’d like us to meet?”
Ravyn’s mouth dropped open as she heard that. “Why I never…”
“I think she should come along for our little meeting. I look forward to showing her my hand, thanks to that dreadful bird of hers.”
I waved Ravyn quiet with my right hand, letting the baton slip to the ground next to the phone. “Look, old man, where do you want to meet with us then? It should be somewhere nice and public. I don’t want any damn surprises.”
He sighed again. “Fine, take all of the fun out of this, will you? How about we meet near your hometown, in one of those casinos in Detroit? You name the particular place and time. That should be public enough for all of us.”
I nodded. “Fine. Let’s meet in Greektown exactly 24 hours from now, bring that prick Dick Arnold with you as well.” I looked at my watch to fix the time in my head.
“Done.” The phone went silent.
Opening Gambit...Part 3
I stopped just before I touched the door, hand still extended. “What?”
Ravyn reached out and brushed my arm aside. Her voice grew louder in her impatience. “Don’t you see the damn door isn’t locked? Do you think a Caster of El Diablito’s ability is going to leave one of his haunts completely unprotected? Sheesh! After all of this time and after everything you’ve been through, you were just going to barge in there without thinking, weren’t you?”
I raised my hands in surrender. There was certainly no arguing with her when she was this fired up. “OK, OK. Do whatever you think you need to do to make it safe, I’ll be a good little zombie and wait for the mighty Caster to do her work!”
Ravyn’s eyes flashed as she turned to respond. Her mouth opened as if she were about to respond when Zenny slipped in between us, her back to Ravyn.
She looked up at me with disappointment in her eyes as she placed a hand on my forearm. “That was uncalled for, Rusty. Ravyn is thinking only of our safety.”
Her almond shaped brown eyes reflected a level of sadness that drew me up short. I looked away from her in shame. “I’m sorry Ravyn. I don’t know why I said that.”
Zenny turned to Ravyn and spoke in a very soft voice before Ravyn could reply to me. “Please, allow me.” She nodded towards the door.
Ravyn alternated looking between Zenny and me as she backed away from the door to allow Zenny to use her skills.
Zenny pulled the thin deerskin glove off her right hand and stepped to the door. She leaned in close to the door, placing her palm flat on the door at about ear height. She turned her head to the side as she did and closed her eyes. Her lips parted ever so slightly as she began to concentrate on what the door could tell her.
Ravyn watched her with concern, her own hands clenched with the tension of the unknown that hung heavy in the suddenly silent and still night air. Even the creaking of the sign had finally stopped. It was as if all of south Florida was waiting for the results of Zenny’s contact with the door.
After several tense moments, Zenny stepped back from the door with a sigh. As she turned to face the two of us, she brushed a stray strand of her dark hair back under her hijab. “This door has not been opened in nearly a year. The last people to use it were manual laborers of some sort. I don’t sense any about the door that would be of concern in opening it.”
Ravyn nodded. “That’s good. At least we know it’s safe to open the door.”
Zenny shuddered. “I did get a feel for this person you have called El Diablito.” She looked directly at me. “Rusty, I don’t think that I will ever be able to think of you as Shaitan again. That man has truly earned that name.”
Concerned, I put a hand on her shoulder. “What did you see?”
She shook her head. “That is something we can discuss at another time. Let’s see what awaits us inside.”
Zenny moved to the side, allowing me to reach out to the door as she carefully put her glove back on. She wore them almost all of the time since her talent was always active—giving her impressions and information about everything that she touched, unless she was wearing something as familiar and safe as those gloves.
With my left hand on the handle, I glanced back at Ravyn to make sure that she was ready and then flicked my right wrist to allow that baton to drop into my palm. I let it stay in its collapsed form for the moment.
At Ravyn’s nod, I yanked the door open and slipped into the doorway just in case there was a surprise waiting for us. The dark, dusty interior of the empty shop greeted me with bored indifference.
I recognized the skeleton of the once cluttered shop that I had visited those many years before. But the racks and shelves that had once been full to the point of bursting now stood empty like the bones of a long dead beast picked clean by scavengers.
“It looks abandoned.” I walked in towards the counter where the cashier used to stand. The light switch on the wall next to the ancient cash register was unresponsive.
Behind me, I heard Ravyn whisper. “Bob, you stay close, OK?”
I heard the cheery warble of ‘Bob’ reply as I looked back to see Ravyn on one knee at the doorway of the shop. She had taken her small backpack off and was holding the top flap open so that Bob could float out.
The soft yellow glow that Bob gave off when he was happy to be exploring a new place helped to illuminate the shop further. As Bob floated happily to the top of the room, the harsh, skeletal shadows retreated to their corners.
Ravyn stood up and swung the now empty pack back across her shoulders as stepped into the shop. Zenny followed behind her, smiling in wonder at the bizarre, orb-like creature that was now happily whistling as he drifted along the ceiling.
After taking stock of the clearly empty and abandoned shop, Ravyn turned to me. “You were here once before, can you lead us back to any office he might have had? That’s probably the place where we are most likely to find anything he left behind that Zenny might be able to get a reading off of.”
I nodded and pointed towards the curtain hanging just to the left of the cashier’s counter. “If go through there, we’ll pass through the used book area that he had and down a hall towards the back. There’s a large ceremonial room where he drugged me when he was making my Chakra. There’s a small office and kitchen area back there as well. If he’s been here in the last year, that’s where he’s most likely to have been.”
Ravyn pushed back the holey curtains, putting her hand to her face to protect herself from the dust cloud that act generated, and waved me through. “After you.”
(Conclusion of Opening Gambit due tonight…)
Ravyn reached out and brushed my arm aside. Her voice grew louder in her impatience. “Don’t you see the damn door isn’t locked? Do you think a Caster of El Diablito’s ability is going to leave one of his haunts completely unprotected? Sheesh! After all of this time and after everything you’ve been through, you were just going to barge in there without thinking, weren’t you?”
I raised my hands in surrender. There was certainly no arguing with her when she was this fired up. “OK, OK. Do whatever you think you need to do to make it safe, I’ll be a good little zombie and wait for the mighty Caster to do her work!”
Ravyn’s eyes flashed as she turned to respond. Her mouth opened as if she were about to respond when Zenny slipped in between us, her back to Ravyn.
She looked up at me with disappointment in her eyes as she placed a hand on my forearm. “That was uncalled for, Rusty. Ravyn is thinking only of our safety.”
Her almond shaped brown eyes reflected a level of sadness that drew me up short. I looked away from her in shame. “I’m sorry Ravyn. I don’t know why I said that.”
Zenny turned to Ravyn and spoke in a very soft voice before Ravyn could reply to me. “Please, allow me.” She nodded towards the door.
Ravyn alternated looking between Zenny and me as she backed away from the door to allow Zenny to use her skills.
Zenny pulled the thin deerskin glove off her right hand and stepped to the door. She leaned in close to the door, placing her palm flat on the door at about ear height. She turned her head to the side as she did and closed her eyes. Her lips parted ever so slightly as she began to concentrate on what the door could tell her.
Ravyn watched her with concern, her own hands clenched with the tension of the unknown that hung heavy in the suddenly silent and still night air. Even the creaking of the sign had finally stopped. It was as if all of south Florida was waiting for the results of Zenny’s contact with the door.
After several tense moments, Zenny stepped back from the door with a sigh. As she turned to face the two of us, she brushed a stray strand of her dark hair back under her hijab. “This door has not been opened in nearly a year. The last people to use it were manual laborers of some sort. I don’t sense any about the door that would be of concern in opening it.”
Ravyn nodded. “That’s good. At least we know it’s safe to open the door.”
Zenny shuddered. “I did get a feel for this person you have called El Diablito.” She looked directly at me. “Rusty, I don’t think that I will ever be able to think of you as Shaitan again. That man has truly earned that name.”
Concerned, I put a hand on her shoulder. “What did you see?”
She shook her head. “That is something we can discuss at another time. Let’s see what awaits us inside.”
Zenny moved to the side, allowing me to reach out to the door as she carefully put her glove back on. She wore them almost all of the time since her talent was always active—giving her impressions and information about everything that she touched, unless she was wearing something as familiar and safe as those gloves.
With my left hand on the handle, I glanced back at Ravyn to make sure that she was ready and then flicked my right wrist to allow that baton to drop into my palm. I let it stay in its collapsed form for the moment.
At Ravyn’s nod, I yanked the door open and slipped into the doorway just in case there was a surprise waiting for us. The dark, dusty interior of the empty shop greeted me with bored indifference.
I recognized the skeleton of the once cluttered shop that I had visited those many years before. But the racks and shelves that had once been full to the point of bursting now stood empty like the bones of a long dead beast picked clean by scavengers.
“It looks abandoned.” I walked in towards the counter where the cashier used to stand. The light switch on the wall next to the ancient cash register was unresponsive.
Behind me, I heard Ravyn whisper. “Bob, you stay close, OK?”
I heard the cheery warble of ‘Bob’ reply as I looked back to see Ravyn on one knee at the doorway of the shop. She had taken her small backpack off and was holding the top flap open so that Bob could float out.
The soft yellow glow that Bob gave off when he was happy to be exploring a new place helped to illuminate the shop further. As Bob floated happily to the top of the room, the harsh, skeletal shadows retreated to their corners.
Ravyn stood up and swung the now empty pack back across her shoulders as stepped into the shop. Zenny followed behind her, smiling in wonder at the bizarre, orb-like creature that was now happily whistling as he drifted along the ceiling.
After taking stock of the clearly empty and abandoned shop, Ravyn turned to me. “You were here once before, can you lead us back to any office he might have had? That’s probably the place where we are most likely to find anything he left behind that Zenny might be able to get a reading off of.”
I nodded and pointed towards the curtain hanging just to the left of the cashier’s counter. “If go through there, we’ll pass through the used book area that he had and down a hall towards the back. There’s a large ceremonial room where he drugged me when he was making my Chakra. There’s a small office and kitchen area back there as well. If he’s been here in the last year, that’s where he’s most likely to have been.”
Ravyn pushed back the holey curtains, putting her hand to her face to protect herself from the dust cloud that act generated, and waved me through. “After you.”
(Conclusion of Opening Gambit due tonight…)
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Opening Gambit...Part 2
Ravyn, Zenny and I walked through the cold Chicago air, our feet crunching the crusted snow cover as we moved towards the small stone circle behind the Phoenix Coop. Jim followed behind.
Zenny hugged her arms tightly about her body, her teeth chattering as she shivered. “Why must it be so cold in this place?”
Ravyn reached out to touch her shoulder. “I’m sorry dear, I forgot. This will help.” Ravyn closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, uttering a word under her breath that was lost to the whipping winds. A soft red glow slipped from her hand and spread from Zenny’s shoulder to cover her entire body, fading gently as it did.
Zenny brightened up considerably as the glow disappeared. “That’s so much better. I wish I knew how to do that.”
Ravyn threw back her head in laughter, the sound echoing in the still night air. “We all have our own talents dear. Remember, there are things that you can do that I wish I could do as well. But the key is that we all use the abilities that we do have to their best effect. My affinity with fire does come in very handy in these drearily cold Chicago winters. I can’t wait to someplace where I don’t need to worry about making myself or others warmer!”
I led the way into the circle, passing the large, rounded boulder that I always remembered for the way that Betsy had introduced herself to me by killing and devouring a dark wolf-like Spirit that had followed me back from the Underworld into the Shadowland. I had used this place several times since then as a transit point, but that image stuck with me.
Zenny followed close behind, arms still held about her torso as if she were expecting the cold to return at any moment.
Ravyn was the last to enter, but only after she had turned to give Jim a hug. They exchanged a few whispered sentences between themselves in the darkness, but again the bitter, whipping winds rolling in off of the not so distant Lake Michigan claimed those words, preventing me from hearing what was said.
I leaned over to Zenny and quietly posed my own question. “So how long have these two been acting like this with each other?”
“That is none of my, or your, business, Shaitan.”
I looked at her in surprise, until I saw the sly smile cross her face.
‘Shaitan’ was the name that she had first called me when I had rescued her in the Jordanian desert from a bunch of mercenary contractors hired by Dr. Geek. She had been nearly delirious after having been severely damaged by multiple rapes and by a lack of food and water. She had believed me to be an avenging spirit that she had been praying for. Unfortunately for those mercenaries, that was one expectation that I had lived up to.
She had not called me by that name in many months. She hadn’t, in fact, spoken directly too me very much at all in the months since she had been with Ravyn healing and learning to harness her own magickal talents. The fact that she was willing to now joke with me was very promising.
Ravyn bounced through the edge of the circle and came to a stop directly in front of me, fists planted on her hips. “And just what did you mean by that quip?”
I looked up from Ravyn to Jim, who had his own arms folded across his chest as he looked down at us over his glasses. I saw no support there at the moment.
“I…uh…was just wondering…ah…never mind.”
“Good idea. Now, are you done gawking, or do you a question to ask me directly?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
She glanced back at Jim briefly, a knowing look passed between them. “Good, then let’s go to Hialeah.”
As previously instructed, both Zenny and Ravyn took one of my hands. I summoned the Shadow, opening the path to the Shadowland, and stepped through.
In that place, this stone ring looked almost exactly the same as it did in the world of the living. Now though, I could see a dark stain on the rock where Betsy had dropped and then consumed that wolf-spirit. Jim’s Spirit form stood there watching us as well. His Spirit form was nearly as large and tall as he was in life, roughly in the shape of a bear, standing on his hind legs. The colors of his form shifted slowly from dark blue to a more violet color as he began to worry about us.
I knew that Jim didn’t have the conscious ability to see into the Shadowland, but it was hard to resist one last nod of acknowledgement as I shifted my concentration from getting to the Shadowland to now moving through it to where we needed to go.
Even though the Shadowland was almost a mirror copy of the world of the living, the world in which we experience on a daily basis, time and distance are different concepts here. Moving from place to place within this realm was both much easier and much more difficult than in the traditional world of human experience.
Here in this transitory place, there are portals to many, many different worlds. Not all of these portals, however, work in both directions. It takes a special skill and recognition of the different kinds of portals and where they might lead that can only be acquired through trial and error.
Luckily, I have a well-spring of hard won knowledge of the Shadowland that I gained first from the remnants of Ma Grendel that I still hold within me, and from my own hard-won experience.
I must admit that being (un)dead helps me to overcome almost all of the mistakes I make when traveling through this place.
When John Red Bear taught me to free myself from the bounds of my Chakra by slip my spirit form into the Shadowland and through this place into the Underworld, he taught me to travel as a Shaman, spiritually.
It wasn’t until later, when I was able to observe Papa Locks use the Shadow in this way that I realized that real physical bodies, living and otherwise, could travel here as well. Upon discovering that I had this ability after my confrontation with Ma Grendel, my existence fundamentally changed.
Once in the Shadowland, I could, as a matter of Will send myself flying at such extraordinary speeds that I could arrive in Hialeah within moments. But by flying through the Shadowland that quickly, there would be a risk of passing through some random portal to a world that I would rather not go to. Because I was traveling with Ravyn and Zenny, and because the places we might end up in were just as likely to be inhospitable to living beings, I couldn’t take that chance, unless it was an emergency.
So instead of a single, speed of thought flight through the Shadowland, I drew a cocoon of Shadow about our bodies to keep us hidden from any of the nasty critters and unassociated Spirit forms (those Spirit forms no longer tied to living bodies—but who have been unable or unwilling to seek the next stop in their Spiritual journey—often called ghosts) and made our journey in dozens of shorter, bouncing flights along paths I felt to be safe.
The whole journey took less than half an hour, although it felt like much more by the time I dismissed the bubble of Shadow and we emerged in the dark alley outside the entrance to El Diablito’s old metaphysical shop, NextWorld in the heart of the warehouse district of Hialeah, just a few miles north of Miami International Airport.
Ravyn was the first to let go of my hand as she stepped away, brushing away the fleeting tendrils of dark Shadow substance that still clung to her clothing as if were stray pet hair. “OK, I like my way a LOT better.” She gave me a wicked grin and winked at Zenny. “Remind me again why we decided to travel by Zombie Air?”
Zenny steadied herself against the hard brick wall of the warehouse with both hands, trying to regain her balance. Her normally dark complexion had whitened considerably, but was now beginning to regain her normal hues. “Is there a better way than this? I did not like that very much.”
I shrugged, brushed myself off and grinned back at Ravyn. “Well, coming into the middle of Metro Miami with either a great big flash of fire and smoke or on the back of a flaming Phoenix might have brought a little more unwanted attention than my way did, but hey, I’m open to better suggestions.”
Ravyn stuck her tongue at me before going over to Zenny and helping her.
Having no tongue to stick back out at her, I turned to check out the door to the old shop. It looked very much like I had left it, several years before, when I first received my Chakra. The Cuban-born cabbie who had dropped me off here seemed to have been quite afraid of this place, or the neighborhood, or both.
I crossed the alley and came to the door that led into the front of the shop. The metallic sign hanging overhead creaked as it swung reluctantly in the stiff night breeze. The door had a simple pull handle, no key hole for a lock and no hooks or latches for a padlock of any sort.
As the gals came up behind me, I reached out to the handle.
Ravyn called out in a hushed whisper. “Rusty, wait!”
(To be continued)
Zenny hugged her arms tightly about her body, her teeth chattering as she shivered. “Why must it be so cold in this place?”
Ravyn reached out to touch her shoulder. “I’m sorry dear, I forgot. This will help.” Ravyn closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, uttering a word under her breath that was lost to the whipping winds. A soft red glow slipped from her hand and spread from Zenny’s shoulder to cover her entire body, fading gently as it did.
Zenny brightened up considerably as the glow disappeared. “That’s so much better. I wish I knew how to do that.”
Ravyn threw back her head in laughter, the sound echoing in the still night air. “We all have our own talents dear. Remember, there are things that you can do that I wish I could do as well. But the key is that we all use the abilities that we do have to their best effect. My affinity with fire does come in very handy in these drearily cold Chicago winters. I can’t wait to someplace where I don’t need to worry about making myself or others warmer!”
I led the way into the circle, passing the large, rounded boulder that I always remembered for the way that Betsy had introduced herself to me by killing and devouring a dark wolf-like Spirit that had followed me back from the Underworld into the Shadowland. I had used this place several times since then as a transit point, but that image stuck with me.
Zenny followed close behind, arms still held about her torso as if she were expecting the cold to return at any moment.
Ravyn was the last to enter, but only after she had turned to give Jim a hug. They exchanged a few whispered sentences between themselves in the darkness, but again the bitter, whipping winds rolling in off of the not so distant Lake Michigan claimed those words, preventing me from hearing what was said.
I leaned over to Zenny and quietly posed my own question. “So how long have these two been acting like this with each other?”
“That is none of my, or your, business, Shaitan.”
I looked at her in surprise, until I saw the sly smile cross her face.
‘Shaitan’ was the name that she had first called me when I had rescued her in the Jordanian desert from a bunch of mercenary contractors hired by Dr. Geek. She had been nearly delirious after having been severely damaged by multiple rapes and by a lack of food and water. She had believed me to be an avenging spirit that she had been praying for. Unfortunately for those mercenaries, that was one expectation that I had lived up to.
She had not called me by that name in many months. She hadn’t, in fact, spoken directly too me very much at all in the months since she had been with Ravyn healing and learning to harness her own magickal talents. The fact that she was willing to now joke with me was very promising.
Ravyn bounced through the edge of the circle and came to a stop directly in front of me, fists planted on her hips. “And just what did you mean by that quip?”
I looked up from Ravyn to Jim, who had his own arms folded across his chest as he looked down at us over his glasses. I saw no support there at the moment.
“I…uh…was just wondering…ah…never mind.”
“Good idea. Now, are you done gawking, or do you a question to ask me directly?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
She glanced back at Jim briefly, a knowing look passed between them. “Good, then let’s go to Hialeah.”
As previously instructed, both Zenny and Ravyn took one of my hands. I summoned the Shadow, opening the path to the Shadowland, and stepped through.
In that place, this stone ring looked almost exactly the same as it did in the world of the living. Now though, I could see a dark stain on the rock where Betsy had dropped and then consumed that wolf-spirit. Jim’s Spirit form stood there watching us as well. His Spirit form was nearly as large and tall as he was in life, roughly in the shape of a bear, standing on his hind legs. The colors of his form shifted slowly from dark blue to a more violet color as he began to worry about us.
I knew that Jim didn’t have the conscious ability to see into the Shadowland, but it was hard to resist one last nod of acknowledgement as I shifted my concentration from getting to the Shadowland to now moving through it to where we needed to go.
Even though the Shadowland was almost a mirror copy of the world of the living, the world in which we experience on a daily basis, time and distance are different concepts here. Moving from place to place within this realm was both much easier and much more difficult than in the traditional world of human experience.
Here in this transitory place, there are portals to many, many different worlds. Not all of these portals, however, work in both directions. It takes a special skill and recognition of the different kinds of portals and where they might lead that can only be acquired through trial and error.
Luckily, I have a well-spring of hard won knowledge of the Shadowland that I gained first from the remnants of Ma Grendel that I still hold within me, and from my own hard-won experience.
I must admit that being (un)dead helps me to overcome almost all of the mistakes I make when traveling through this place.
When John Red Bear taught me to free myself from the bounds of my Chakra by slip my spirit form into the Shadowland and through this place into the Underworld, he taught me to travel as a Shaman, spiritually.
It wasn’t until later, when I was able to observe Papa Locks use the Shadow in this way that I realized that real physical bodies, living and otherwise, could travel here as well. Upon discovering that I had this ability after my confrontation with Ma Grendel, my existence fundamentally changed.
Once in the Shadowland, I could, as a matter of Will send myself flying at such extraordinary speeds that I could arrive in Hialeah within moments. But by flying through the Shadowland that quickly, there would be a risk of passing through some random portal to a world that I would rather not go to. Because I was traveling with Ravyn and Zenny, and because the places we might end up in were just as likely to be inhospitable to living beings, I couldn’t take that chance, unless it was an emergency.
So instead of a single, speed of thought flight through the Shadowland, I drew a cocoon of Shadow about our bodies to keep us hidden from any of the nasty critters and unassociated Spirit forms (those Spirit forms no longer tied to living bodies—but who have been unable or unwilling to seek the next stop in their Spiritual journey—often called ghosts) and made our journey in dozens of shorter, bouncing flights along paths I felt to be safe.
The whole journey took less than half an hour, although it felt like much more by the time I dismissed the bubble of Shadow and we emerged in the dark alley outside the entrance to El Diablito’s old metaphysical shop, NextWorld in the heart of the warehouse district of Hialeah, just a few miles north of Miami International Airport.
Ravyn was the first to let go of my hand as she stepped away, brushing away the fleeting tendrils of dark Shadow substance that still clung to her clothing as if were stray pet hair. “OK, I like my way a LOT better.” She gave me a wicked grin and winked at Zenny. “Remind me again why we decided to travel by Zombie Air?”
Zenny steadied herself against the hard brick wall of the warehouse with both hands, trying to regain her balance. Her normally dark complexion had whitened considerably, but was now beginning to regain her normal hues. “Is there a better way than this? I did not like that very much.”
I shrugged, brushed myself off and grinned back at Ravyn. “Well, coming into the middle of Metro Miami with either a great big flash of fire and smoke or on the back of a flaming Phoenix might have brought a little more unwanted attention than my way did, but hey, I’m open to better suggestions.”
Ravyn stuck her tongue at me before going over to Zenny and helping her.
Having no tongue to stick back out at her, I turned to check out the door to the old shop. It looked very much like I had left it, several years before, when I first received my Chakra. The Cuban-born cabbie who had dropped me off here seemed to have been quite afraid of this place, or the neighborhood, or both.
I crossed the alley and came to the door that led into the front of the shop. The metallic sign hanging overhead creaked as it swung reluctantly in the stiff night breeze. The door had a simple pull handle, no key hole for a lock and no hooks or latches for a padlock of any sort.
As the gals came up behind me, I reached out to the handle.
Ravyn called out in a hushed whisper. “Rusty, wait!”
(To be continued)
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