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Chapter 7

The walk home had been a blur. I could only remember parts of it. I’ve known this day would eventually come, but I suppose I could’ve never fully prepared for it. There’s only one thing I knew for certain…I needed some mouth wash.

I shuffled around the outside of the church and made it to the back door. Using the front door attracted unwanted attention and if anyone was on my street they wouldn’t be around for long.  A little discretion never hurt anyone. Plus, the front door was locked from the inside with an eight foot piece of solid oak. If I was ever in a hurry I might be able to blast it open, but I doubt it would ever come to that. The rear door was far more secure than the front door could ever be.

The back door had a key that only I possessed. Everyone in the world has an energy that they emit; some people refer to them as auras. I have an unnatural amount of energy and can control it, manipulating the elements. That’s what makes me special.  My energy acts like a fingerprint, unique to my body and my body alone. I infused the door with my power, my DNA so only I would be allowed to enter. I’m able to turn off my defenses with a simple thought, unlocking the bond that the door and I have, allowing other people to enter unharmed.

Somebody could physically open the door, but they wouldn’t like what would happen when they tried to cross the threshold–a little hint– their heart would explode. That was actually a big hint. They would be dead instantly. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make a half-assed booby trap when using my own energy. It’s all or nothing. With the additional power that flowed through the church, it took a minimal amount of my own power to complete the process. Moral of the story would be not to enter, pretend you’re a vampire, and make sure that you’re invited in.

I had a scare once. An alarm had been triggered in my head; I raced down the stairs and through the kitchen. I went to the back door to find it painted with a fresh coat of crimson blood, hair, and guts splattered on the walls, floor, and ceiling. It turned out I hadn’t latched the door securely and the wind had convinced it open. A poor raccoon, looking for fresh food instead of the spoiled in the dumpster, unknowingly walked through the wrong doorway.

The lower half of his body remained outside. The upper half had been sprayed about. It had looked like a giant, red ink blot. I wonder if I’d looked hard enough I would’ve been able to see a butterfly. A faint, pink hue still remained as a constant reminder of the power–the death, I controlled. And to always make sure the door has been closed securely and dead bolted properly.

I’d infused the door with my power so only I would be allowed to enter it. I was happy that my defenses worked, I just wished I had someone to clean it up for me. If something larger had come through I don’t think the result would’ve been the same, or at least I hoped not. I wanted security, not someone’s insides all over my entry way.

I lugged myself up the three flights of stairs and threw myself on the bed, exhausted and frustrated. It was only a little after 10pm, but I was beat. I was in need of a cat nap. I wouldn’t have been able to go to bed this early, plus there’s a lot more I still needed to do tonight. Gizmo tried to persuade me out of bed to walk him, but it fell on deaf ears. I told him, “Not now, daddy…needs…his…re…”

I woke up to a whimper and a lick over the scar on the side of my head. I slept for an hour or so and arose feeling a little better. The first thing I needed to do was take the poor puppy dog outside, so he could handle his business. When we were finished, we went back inside and to the room next to ours. The fridge and microwave were both there, in my make shift kitchen. There was a real kitchen on the ground floor, but it was too big and it was all the way downstairs. Throwing up really emptied me out, I was in desperate need to be refilled. I’m a vegetarian, that’s right; I carry a taser and I don’t eat meat. I love animals, why would I want to eat them? It could have been the orphanage meat that really turned me off from it. They plopped some pretty gross stuff on the plates at meal time.

I placed a fake burger in the toaster oven along with the bun. I added pepper-jack cheese, mayo, and ketchup when the oven dinged. That was all, no lettuce or tomatoes or onions. I’m a pretty lousy veg-head. I grabbed a Pepsi and some potato chips to complete the meal. Gizmo was a veggie lover also. He received a cup of food and two protein based snausages, meat-free of course. The pet shop carried a full line of meat-free treats for him. Like I said before, they love us.

We made our way back to the room food in hand. The whole time the only thing I could think about was what was to be done next. There had to be someone, somewhere I could talk to or intimidate for some answers. I understood Pirelli was behind the hit, but he was behind everything criminal. There’s an endless list of questions that needed to be answered. I fear there’s a lot more to this than I anticipated.

I inhaled my food; I think I chewed some of it. I decided to go where I always went when I needed to think…online gaming. I chose to play Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 on the PS3. Nothing cleared my head better than tactical war games. An hour of kicking ass and still I was lost. I suppose I have no other choice. It was time to wake the beast. I grabbed a few things: CD player, a CD; Mozart’s classic masterpieces, and Gizmos ball. Then, both of us headed to the roof.

Gizmo decided he wanted to race me up the stairs. And yes he won. He has four legs, I only have two, and my center of gravity is horrible compared to his. Plus he tripped me half way up here, so I think I will have to disqualify him and name the runner up the winner, (is that me?).

Before we went through the door I put my game face on. We stepped through the steel door and made our way across the roof to Harry. I threw the ball for the pooch and he went running after it. It was better to have him somewhere else instead of annoying the already grumpy gargoyle.

“So, I threw up this evening.” I said, started the conversation on an interesting note. I thought it might grab his attention. “It was as gross as I remembered it being; it was relieving, but gross.”

“Ha. Did you walk by a mirror or something?” Harry, all too cheerfully, replied.

He seemed to be in a pleasant mood and that was never a good thing. Usually, it meant something bad was in my near future. “Ahhh, good one,” I said with a horrible feeling rising in my gut. “Why are you in a good mood?”

“No reason Wes. I’m just enjoying this breezy night.”

“Can you even feel the breeze?” I asked.

“In some form, yes; here comes the mutt.”

Gizmo ran up to me, the big ball in his mouth, but covering his eyes. He didn’t seem too bothered by it. I retrieved the ball from the dog’s mouth and threw it again. He happily chased after it once again.

“Harry, why do I feel like I’m going to throw up again?”

As soon as I finished my sentence, the temperature that surrounded me had plummeted. It had been cool outside, but in a nice way, now with every breath I exhaled a white mist would appear. Before I could react to the changed around me, it was already too late. Whatever weird sensation I had been feeling before intensified in seconds. Harry, in a way I still don’t know how, struck at me with a furious vengeance. He had to have been storing his remaining energy, bit by tiny bit, waiting for the most opportune time, and that time had come. I had been under the impression that it wasn’t possible to do such a thing. I had been wrong.

His raw power surpassed anything I’d ever thought he would’ve been capable of. It was crippling. Through the tiniest crack in my defense he was able to plan an escape. He was trying to break through the front gate and I the gatekeeper. In moments I was frozen. My body stuck, unable to move, my eyes wide open unable to blink. My mouth, mid-open, awaited its next breath.

My heart stopped. The familiar beat to which my body lived to was no longer there. Through my chest cavity an invisible hand had cut through my defenses, through my skin, and gripped my heart, as easily as grasping an apple out of a tree. Harry pressed his thoughts into my own.

His voice was in my head now. There wasn’t an audible sound. There was no noise to be heard and yet I heard. It felt like we were becoming one being, he was after all a body snatcher. Harry and I had always communicated verbally. I could always hear his voice. Maybe I could never hear it; maybe it was only the projection of his voice, just like at this moment.

“I’m sorry it came to this Wes.” His words rolled through my mind, my body trembled without physically trembling; a ripple through my soul. “If only we had met in a different world, perhaps our story together could have been different. I wish there was some other way than destroying you to save me, but I’ve survived this long because I’ve always been able to make these tough decisions. Good bye Wes. I hope your next life treats you better than this one did.”

He cut his voice from my mind and the silence consumed me. The grip around my heart had never faltered. My time was running out. I shoved my thoughts, my will, to the soles of my shoes. If I had any chance of surviving, I would need the buildings help. If I could connect to the church, its power could possibly save me.  I couldn’t even take a breath to focus my mind; I was flailing and soon I would be dead–a frozen time capsule, half-crouched with a crazed look on my face right next to the gargoyle. They would put me with the likes of Ted Williams and some even say Walt Disney, if you want to believe the rumors. Even though it’s documented that Disney was cremated, for fear he would come back as a zombie. It’s ironic considering I could live to be over 200 years old if I could prevent things like these from happening. I wonder if I could come back after being frozen for 100 years; my body is far more complicated than the typical human. Maybe I hold the key to what all those frozen heads have been looking for.

Focus, that’s the big trick to wizardry…always, be focused. As tough as it was to empty my mind, there’s something about being on the edge of death that stretched your capabilities. I reached down, deep down, and tapped into anything and everything I could. I pushed all the energy I had to the roof below. “Breathe Wes, breathe,” I said to myself without moving my tongue or lips. It sounded like the monster that Dr. Frankenstein gave birth to, but it was the only encouragement I could muster for myself.

I gasped. I inhaled the most refreshing breath I’d ever sucked in before. In an instant my body felt warmer and I could move—albeit mostly stumbling. The buildings power had surged through me and sliced through Harry’s attack with deadly proficiency. I took in two more deep breaths of life before I recovered enough to think straight. I rushed over to the demon-within-the-stone and placed my hand on the slate. I needed to act fast while he was still weakened. My magic mixed with the buildings power made it possible for me to rebuild my defenses that Harry had worked so hard to bring down. He was strong, smart, and I hadn’t realized his full power until tonight. I was able to fix the walls and build them taller and stronger while the extra power was available to me.  I added anything and everything magically available to me to lock him down once again.

When it was over, I let out a sigh of relief as I fell on my ass: exhausted…again…already. It felt like my whole body ate ice cream way too fast; brain freeze was annoying, but whole body freeze was completely numbing. My eyes burned with every blink, my skin itched everywhere, and a chunk of my hair had fallen off like an icicle breaking off of a front porch when hit with a December’s afternoon sun.

When the coast was clear Gizmo jumped from his hiding place behind the AC unit and ran over to nuzzle me. I had been careless for far too long with Harry and it had almost cost me my life. I didn’t get a chance to aske him any of my questions before he had attacked. He was of no use to me now. I wasn’t as angry as I probably should’ve been but being alive had something to do with that. Focus on the positives. I set the CD player down on the ledge by Harry and put in a CD. “Mozart’s classics,” I said, “if you want to listen to it, all you have to do is press play.”

Harry would recover in time, but hopefully not too soon. This turned out to be a very un-fun day. Even though I’ve cheated death, today had too many bad with not enough good: knives, guns, and powerful beings…plus, my mouth still tasted like throw-up.

 

 

 

Chapter 8

I zombie-walked back to my room and turned in for the night. Even with the buildings enormous help I was gassed. I was both physically and mentally fatigued. It was time for a deep, deep sleep…or so I thought. I had a dream this night.

I was standing in the computer lab of my old school, all those years ago. I was as I looked in the present day, same jeans and shirt I wore to bed. At first I was alone, and then, one by one, students came in that I had once known. They were the same age as they had been in high school. Single file they entered, walking silently across the lab, and then stood in a line. They all came: every bully, every athlete, and everyone else who treated me like I was an abomination. They never spoke, never coughed, or made a noise of any kind. I was ready to speak but the students turned towards the door and went down to one knee. In walked the man, Mr. Pirelli. He was unlike the other students; he was like me, he was in his adult body.

I’ve seen pictures of him before in the newspaper and he looked just like he had then: tall, tan, and deceptive. He was wearing a fine Italian suit, black with silver pin stripes, and a deep forest green collared shirt with a matching pocket square. Everything had been tailored to fit his athletic frame and he wore it well. A shimmer of light caught my eye. It led me to one of the most interesting watches I had ever seen. I don’t how, but I knew right away that it was an Ulysse Nardin, Genghis Khan Watch. Genghis Khan was the Mongolian leader. He was remembered for a lot of things but perhaps the most important mark he left on society was the empire he had built. It was the largest empire in the history of mankind.

On the face of the watch there were four figures made from gold. Each hour, on the hour, the figures would move and fight one another. What a man wears can say a lot about them and this watch could be Jace’s biography–it also cost a half million dollars.

Jace walked to the center of the room with perfect posture and an ostentatious glow. He turned and faced me. His cold eyes locked with mine and it sent a shiver down my spine. The corner of his upper lip rose as he pulled an evil grin before he spoke.

“I have not forgotten you, Wesley”

My eyes shot open and a bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. My right leg kicked without my permission, sending Gizmo flying off the bed and landing with a thud and a yelp on the floor. That’s a hell of a way to wake up for the both of us. I’d rather be the one kicked off the bed. For a wizard, dreams are not merely a form of entertainment for our minds. Dreams are premonitions…parts of the dreams are anyway. I highly doubt that the students I went to school with have not aged one day. Unfortunately, I believe that Jace remembered me and knew I was back.

And the hits just keep on coming. 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

It was only 3:37 in the morning, so much for that deep sleep. I picked up Gizmo and carried him with me to the kitchen. He received a couple of treats and I received a treat as well. A cold shot of Vodka. My hands ceased shaking and my body started to calm down. I guess I could go to the online world of gaming now, sleep would just have to wait.

I was really hoping for the element of surprise when it came to Pirelli. Without it I felt vulnerable and weak. I felt like I did throughout my high school days, alone and powerless; even though that’s not who or what I was anymore. I’ve evolved into something far more superior than some criminal in an Italian suit and fancy watch. I was drawn back to reset the balance in my city. It was time for me to get some answers. My way.

I turned off the game and threw on some clothes. I threw on some blue jeans, black cons, black pea coat, and a plain black t-shirt. It was 4:15am now and the dives in the Neon District should be getting ready to close up shop. The corporation, known to the public as J.P. Inc, owns a restaurant and bar in the middle of the District called, Eternal Night. I had been there once before following a lead on a different investigation. The club looked standard when you first walked in. A lounge area led you inside, a full bar lined the entire right side, hot new music bounced through the air, and a large dance floor was in the center of everything. There was a back room where dancers occupied individual areas, and many other doors would’ve been occupied within complete secrecy. It was all supposedly legal, but it was foul. This time I was going there with intent; the intent to piss a lot of people off. I’ve been passive enough for one 24 hour period. It’s time for me to make some noise; a lot of noise that would hopefully lead to a lot of answers.

I walked down the stairs, through the back door, making sure I locked it behind me. I crossed the short distance from the church to the entrance of the cemetery. I stepped to the first line of graves and found the headstone marked, ‘For Sale’…it never sold. I bent over and placed my hand on the soil. I only had to think about my bike and the mere thought was good enough to spring it from its resting place.

In an instant the brown grass and dirt parted, raising my street bike from the grave below. My bike repelled the dirt and came out looking brand new.

My motorcycle a 2006 MV Agusta F4 CC, will always be very special to me. There were only 100 made in the entire world. The platinum plate says #21 out of 100. All black with carbon fiber in-lays with red pin stripping and lettering. With a top speed of nearly 200mph meant I could get from one end of the city to the other in a very timely manner. I’d never pushed my bike that hard, I guess I’d never had the need to do so. My bike cost more than I could ever make or ever see in my life. It was a gift from Marcus. I came back to the lair late one night and there it was, with a note attached:

Welcome home and good luck.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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