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Chapter 13

 

“You still have that vial I gave you, right?” I asked.

“Of course I do Wes, it’s underneath the counter,” he answered sternly. “I have it rigged on a string so anywhere from behind here I can let it loose and it will drop straight to the ground. I would never forget something like that—ever.”

“I know old man; I had to double check. Something doesn’t feel right in the valley. Something big is in the works and I think I’m a little late for the party. I can feel it growing by the minute.”

“I’ll be cautious Wes, and you do the same.”

“Aren’t I always?” I said grinning. “Caution’s my middle name.”

I paid for the treats and said my goodbyes to Charles and his bear, Charge. Gizmo gave a quick swat to the half-asleep dog and scurried on after me out the door. We took our time, enjoying the suspiciously nice weather; it was still grey but nice.

We arrived home and I flipped some of the new treats to Gizmo. I went to my closet and changed shirts. Instead of the plain one from last night, I put on something a little more me. A deep red t-shirt with black lettering, ‘Bruce Campbell is God’, on the front and on the back, ‘Gimme’ some suga baby’ was written. It was a personal design of mine. If this saving the valley thing didn’t pan out, it’s nice to know I had a career in clothing design to fall back on.

As I shoved a handful of skittles in my mouth, I left through the back door towards the cemetery to retrieve my bike from its grave. I was headed to Heretic General Hospital. I was going to do what I could to get in the room of Mr. Williams, that’s assuming of course he was still there.

I lived in an abandoned church with its own cemetery in back, yet hospitals weird me out, not the skeletons I have as lawn ornaments. The not quite deceased have more of an effect on me than the already dead. It was weird.

When I first stepped in, the smell of decay, blood, and pain attacked me. Anguish ran rampant through these halls and it stopped me in my tracks. Heretic General was a monstrous building. It was odd for me to describe a building that saved lives as monstrous, but that’s what it was. The building had finished with a remodel recently. New equipment, waiting areas, desks, work stations, bathrooms, and everything else that could be nailed down or screwed in. It made this place look deceptively clean, even the workers seemed a little too joyous about their jobs. They must make a mean cup of coffee. I hate it there; no matter what the coffee tasted like.

Security was tight in most hospitals these days. Getting to Matt’s room could be a challenge. I might have to rely on my charm or wit and that’s never a good thing. It never ends up well.

I found the receptions desk and waited for her to acknowledge me. The middle-aged woman had curly hair, light skin and her nameplate on the top of the desk read Mary. She was on the phone with someone explaining she couldn’t give out information like that unless they came down and had the right identification. I was here, now all I need was the right I.D..

She finally got off of the phone with her head hung low. She let out a quick sigh to gather herself before finally looking up to me. She even managed to have that fake-work smile.

“May I help you sir?” She asked.

“Hello Mary,” I replied with a fake smile of my own. “Long day?”

“You could say that. What can I help you with?”

“I’m hoping to visit my friend, Matt Williams. I wanted a chance to pay my respects. Is he still here?”

“Let me check,” she said as she started typing on her computer, most likely looking for the correct room. “Here he is–room 307, on the third floor.”

“I can go see him?” I asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” she answered looking slightly confused. “The elevators are straight passed me. I just need you to sign this visitor’s form. Print here and sign her,” she asked pointing to the correct line each time.

I did as she asked. I printed my name there and I signed my name here. Rick Deckard. I liked it when things came together like that, it makes me smile.

With an optimistic pep in my step, I made it to the elevators hitting the 3rd floor button upon entry. There was a lady in the elevator with me holding a coffee and the day’s newspaper. She was good looking, even in simple jeans, a light blue sweatshirt, and her soft face free of makeup. Her dark brown hair looked a little unkempt and the bags she carried under her doe green eyes wouldn’t have been considered carry-on. She’s had to have been at the hospital for a while looking like that. I gave a polite smile, but not too big of one. I didn’t want to make the wrong impression. I was a gentleman, not a soon-to-be stalker.

The elevator came to a firm stop at the 3rd floor. We both stepped off and she went left but I stayed standing outside of the elevator. I was looking for the directions; which way was the correct way? Ah there it was, to the left as well. I’m half-way to being a stalker. Chalk it up as a productive day for me.

I’m not going to say I didn’t enjoy walking behind this lady; it was worth being thought of as a pervert. She peeled off to the restrooms and I continued to room 307. She probably didn’t even need to pee. She was probably trying to get away from me. I have that effect on women.

The single patient room looked standard for the most part. A couple chairs off to the side and a little table next to them. There wasn’t an armed guard so good news for me. I wasn’t sure if there would’ve been, but I guess since they figured he would never recover they didn’t see the point in protecting him…way to stay vigilante H.V.P.D.

Tubes and lines were everywhere. They went in and out and every which way. Matt looked like a sci-fi’s mad scientists experiment. The machines hummed, banged, and beeped. Life support is such an un-natural visual. It physically hurt me to see it.

Death is a reality everyone must face at one point or another– even me. When the mind is gone but the body remains behind, an unseen battle takes place. He’s trapped between the world he knew and the fate that awaited him. No one knows for sure what happens when you die. There are many gods. There are many immortal beings. They live because people still believe in them. They can’t grant you any wishes, or answer your prayers. They only exist. They’re like tinker bell; if you don’t believe they will eventually die. Instead of clapping hands though, these beings feed off of the sacrifices that each person made in the name of that god’s righteousness.

I ran my hand six inches or so above his body. I was looking for any magical trace left from the attack, but there was nothing magical about what had happened to him. He was shot, plain and simple.

Matt was younger than I had expected, even with the Grizzly Addams facial hair. He had an exhausted expression frozen on his face. Was it because he was ready to leave?

I couldn’t find his personal effects. Perhaps the police were rummaging through them, or maybe he didn’t have much on him when he was shot.

He smelled nice, too nice actually. Generally I don’t go around smelling other men, but this was hard to miss. Plus, this was special circumstances. He smelled like a lilacs first bloom; bringing the fresh aroma of spring. Not your typical manly cologne. Perhaps he left the club with a lady, or maybe it was nothing. But it smelled like something. I’m not sure what good that little tidbit of knowledge would do for me now. But, it did bring such a sweet smell to a place like this.

With nothing else for me to do I left the hospital room. I passed the pretty gal from the elevator earlier. I gave her a small nod and a smile as she went by, unsure how she would take it. I tried my best to keep all creepiness out of it.

I glided home on my bike, hitting all green lights. What can I say, I have a gift. A dark green sedan was having the same fortune as me. It’s not every day I had the feeling of being followed. And it’s not every day that a follower’s actually following me. No one came down my street without an agenda.

I put my bike back in the dirt. I decided to continue on foot to the other side of the building and make my way to the front. The car I had seen following me parked on the other side of the street, a half block down. Someone got out of the car and pulled a hood over their head. He or she was sneaking their way closer to my cave of solace.

The follower went down the other side of the house, the same side I entered with my bike. I continued making a circle to get the beat on the intruder, in the middle of the day mind you, the nerve of some people. The follower rounded the back of the church and I rounded the front corner. I reached the back in time to see a woman, and she was reaching for the doorknob.

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

“That’s a good way to get yourself killed.”

As I finished my sentence, out of fear, instinct or perhaps both, the lady whirled on her heels, cocked her right hand, and punched me straight in the nose. My eyes immediately started to water. I could feel blood beginning to drip down my nostril as I covered my nose with my hands.

“What the hell!” I screamed at her. “Why did you punch me?”

“I’m so sorry, it was a reflex. I didn’t mean to hit you,” she answered, “but you startled me.”

She seemed genuinely remorseful, but she most definitely meant to hit me.

I should’ve been ashamed of myself, getting punched in the face on my own stoop. Why are there so many awesome things I can do, but stopping a punch wasn’t one of them, but a bullet, a knife, or a trident? Sure, no problem, but a punch to the face, oh no I’m sorry Wes you’re going to bleed (not to mention look like you’re crying).

The lady with a wicked straight right was in fact the good looking woman from the hospital earlier.

“Is this because it looked like I was following you at the hospital?” I asked. “I was being friendly, nothing more to it than that.” I said trying to defend myself.

“No, it’s not because of that,” she answered. “What were you doing in my brother’s hospital room?”

“Your brother,” I asked confused, still holding my bloody nose. “Your brother is Matt?”

“Yes, he’s my younger brother, was my younger brother I guess. They said he’s only alive because of the machines. I want those sons of bitches that did this to him to pay before they take him off of those machines,” she said balling her fists, unable to hold the anger below the surface.

Her defensive walls were down and her emotions were out, the tears rolling down her cheeks were a big giveaway. I never knew what to say in these types of situations. Not what I would call one of my strong areas.

“Would you like to come in? I can put on a pot of coffee and we could talk about your brother. Please?” I asked as I opened the door, motioning for her to come in.

She only hesitated for a moment. What normally would be a risk entering a stranger’s home, was a necessary thing if she wanted to find the answers she had been searching for. She knew the consequences. She had made up her mind that finding her brothers killer would be more important than her own safety. I wasn’t someone who had intention of doing her harm, but it was still a risk for her. She was a good person caught in the crossfire. A family member had been taken from her, more or less anyway. I’ve been going through this town doing what I could but never received a chance to something great. Maybe this was my chance.

I gave her a tour through the back of the church, the old kitchen, and the main floor. She looked transfixed with the beauty of this old place: the detailed wood, the aged pews, the altar, and of course the stained glass window. It’s one thing if you had seen it from the outside but it’s completely different when seeing it from the inside. Being in the presence of the church alone adds to the magnitude of what you are witnessing.

We made our way to the opposite end of the cathedral and headed up the stairs. She was reluctant with every new turn and every step, but she made them none the less.

Gizmo met us at the top of the stairs. He sniffed and nuzzled the lady at once. He had a new friend. She bent down, gave him some pets and attention; his stump wagged wildly. I didn’t know if my room was clean enough for company and I didn’t know if my modified kitchen was either. I peered into my room and…yep it was as bad as I had thought it would be. The kitchen won by default, plus the coffee was in there.

I brewed a fresh pot and grabbed a fold-up chair and placed it by the small table I had off to the side. The room wasn’t small but I didn’t see the point in decorating it. There was the microwave, the fridge, the toaster oven, and a sink. I put in countertops I had found in one of the vacant apartment buildings. I didn’t want to see them go to waste. Same with a couple blocks of cabinets. It wasn’t pretty but it worked for me.

The coffee finished brewing, making the room smell like a fresh start.

“Do you take cream in your coffee…?” I asked, stopping in mid-sentence. I still didn’t know her name. How rude of me to not introduce myself. Did I introduce Gizmo at least?

“I’m sorry, how rude of me. My name is Wes Andersen, and you are…?”

“Drucilla…Drucilla Williams, but please call me Dru.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Dru,” I said. “My nose, however, may disagree but that’s why it’s the nose and not the mouth. My little pooch there is Gizmo. You’ve already won him over. He’s yours for life now.”

We sipped the coffee and smelled the delicious aroma; two of our senses being satisfied at once.

“Why were you at the hospital in my brother’s room?” She asked breaking the silence.

“Well, that’s a good question,” I started. “I will try and explain it to you the best I can. Where do I start? I don’t work for the police; I’m not a private investigator; I’m not even a bounty hunter.” I took another sip of my heavily creamed coffee. What I am is more complicated but not so complicated that I can’t explain it. I used to live here a long time ago. I ended up living in a rather furious way and never thought I would be back here.”

“Why did you come back?” She asked.

“I came back unknowing this was where I was coming to.”

“You didn’t know where you were going?”

“No, not really. For ten years I wandered, and for ten years this place was the furthest thing from my mind. In the end there was nothing I could’ve done anyway. If this place wanted me, it was going to have me. So here I am.”

“That explains why you’re here, but not what you do,” she said a tad annoyed. And the only reason I knew she was annoyed was the slight head tilt she did when she said it. That always meant bad,

“True. I do what most kids dream of when their young. I fight crime.”

“You fight crime? Like with a mask and cape?”

“Uh, no. Usually I walk the streets and help where I can find those who need it. Slowly but surely I’m carving a wake of criminals and their crime in my path. When I found out about the shooting I figured I could do my thing and try and help. That should explain why I was at his room and what I do.”

“What makes you so special?” She asked.

“A lot of things I suppose. My excellent hand-eye coordination, my violet eyes, but most importantly this…” I pulled the sleeve of my jacket on my left arm up, revealing my uniqueness.

“Your tattoo’s…that’s what makes you so special?” She lifted her sweatshirts right sleeve and showed me a four-leaf clover on her wrist. “See, I’m special too.”

 

 

 

Chapter 15

I was staring at her. I didn’t know how to reply to what she had said.

“I can’t fathom the situation you’re going through right now,” I said trying the reasonable route. “I’ve never lost anyone I’d ever cared about before. All I can tell you is that I’m on your side. I want to hold the people who did this to your brother accountable. You must believe me.”

She still looked rattled, frustrated, and the bags under her eyes suggested she hadn’t been able to get much sleep. She only wanted what anyone would want in her position–answers.

“Have you gone to the police?” I asked. “I was under the impression they still hadn’t located anybody in Matt’s family.”

She took a moment to respond. I couldn’t have her freeze up on me now. If we could share any info, hopefully something would make sense.

“I told them I was his friend,” she said. “I told them I would wait with him until they could find his family.”

“Why would you do that? Why hold that information to yourself?”

She stared at the tabletop with a blank expression.

“I want him to still be here when the answers are found. He deserves that much.”

“That’s a good enough reason for me.”

I may not have any experience with what she was going through but my instinct was to help her. There was nothing to it but to do it.

“I know who might have been behind the shooting of your brother. You have to understand though that the man is almost untouchable, or at least to this point in time he has been above the law.” She gave me those wide eyes again and flattened all of my male defenses. She might not have been doing it on purpose, but through the years I’ve learned that most women do in fact know what they were doing. Regardless, I was hooked. I now had someone to let down–a motivational tool if I’d ever needed one.

We finished our coffee. I still wanted to ask her more questions about her brother but I didn’t want to overload her. She was vulnerable and scared. I didn’t want to put any more stress on her than was necessary.

“I didn’t find anything useful in your brother’s hospital room. Did he go to the Neon district often? The newspaper said he was a jack-of-all-trades so to speak, that he was involved in illegal activities. Was that true?” She rubbed her arms together hesitating. Did I push my luck? Did I step over the line?

“Yes, he was involved with some illegal work. He was only doing what was available for him. He tried to get a regular job, I swear. Our mom had a stroke a year ago and the hospital bills started to pile up. I work for the Valley, pushing paperwork. It pays ok but not enough to cover the hospital payments. I don’t know what happened but one thing lead to another and Matt started doing anything he could to make money.”

Dru’s eyes swelled with water from the mention of her mother’s health issues. She was trying to keep it together, keep it all inside, but some things will make their way through no matter what. That concept I did understand.

“Matt began running drugs all over town. There wasn’t too much risk he thought. All he did was pick it up and drop it off and he would get paid,” she said as she again wiped tears from her face. “But he fell in love with the lifestyle, the money, the glamour, the lifestyle that came with the business. He paid the hospital bills every month, but it was never enough. By then he could only see the money piling up, the dollar signs hanging in the air. They were in his reach. He needed to have them. He kept doing what he was doing because he needed to, but in the end it was because he wanted to.”

“I understand, Dru. He was helping the family out at any cost. It’s a hard lifestyle to get out of once you are in. The easy money’s not so easy in the end.” I poured more coffee into each of our cups. It’s funny how something so simple like a cup of java could soothe you—an adult version of a pacifier. “Do you know who he was around the most? Anybody he was close to in the business? If we had someone we could talk to, hopefully they could point us in the right direction.” She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes.

“No,” she answered. “I wasn’t a very good sister was I? How do I not know who he was with? I should have done something a long time ago. This is my fault.”

Tears continued to roll down her face as she tried to bury her head into her arms. I knew this wasn’t her fault, and deep down she knew it to. Guilt would block the common sense right out of you sometimes. Her brother was a noble man to her. He ended up sacrificing his life for the family. It didn’t matter that he stayed because he liked it. That was his choice. He was family.

A woman I’d just met sobbing on my little table would be the definition of awkward for me. I’m not trained for that, nor would I ever be. Luckily for me Gizmo stepped up and took one for the team. He stood on his back legs and pawed at her until she picked him up. His slobbery tongue was the cure for her breakdown. He licked the side of Dru’s face and she couldn’t hold back the smile. I even smiled at the magic that he possessed. I hoped someday I could be half as powerful as Gizmo.

“Do you like video games?” I asked wanting the answer was yes. It would be a good distraction for her. “I just bought a Nintendo 64, if you like Bond or Mario Kart.”

“Ummm…I don’t think I have played that before. Is it easy? I wouldn’t mind something right now to take my mind off of my brother,” she replied.

I handed her some tissues and gave her the directions to the bathroom. She wasn’t wearing tear proof make-up. She looked like an extra for an Alice Cooper music video, all that was missing was a snake wrapped around her neck.

I went to the bedroom and set up Mario Kart for her. I only have the one controller. I didn’t think I would ever need a second one. It’s always been just the pup and I. It’s not like Gizmo would be able to play games with me, it would be awesome if he could, but paws and controllers don’t mix.

I quickly made the bed and threw some dirty clothes into the closet and shut the door; out of sight, out of mind.

She came into the room. I stood staring not knowing what to do. I felt wrong for feeling attracted to her, but it had been quite a while since a lady had brought out my google eyes. It was pathetic, I know, but it was nice to feel like that.

“Alright, here is the controller. I think we’ll start off with Mario Kart. It’s a racing game built on chaos. You can throw bananas, red shells, green shells, and you can even zap the other racers so they are tiny. Then you get to run them over. If Nascar was like this I would watch it.” She gave me a forced smile looking only slightly confused. She’ll enjoy it, everyone does.

“The analog stick is used for turning, the ‘A’ button for the gas, and the ‘B’ button for the brakes. Don’t worry about the ‘B’ button though, slowing down’s for suckers.”

The race started and Yoshi (the character she had picked) darted forward, zigzagging from one side of the screen to the other. At least she was going in the right direction. The race went on and the more time that past she loosened up. She started to enjoy it and that was the whole point of the game…to have fun.

We played for an hour and every race she improved. If things kept going this well I would have to find myself another controller. For now, at least, it was good to see her smiling. Look at me go, two good deeds in one day.

“Shoot the red shell, shoot it.” I yelled at Dru. Boom, she nailed that spiky Bowser, 1st place would be hers. In under an hour she was already taking 1st place. She was my kind of lady.

“Nicely done,” I said. “It’s getting dark out; you want to join me on my adventure tonight?” She had as much right as I did to try and find out who murdered her brother.

“What kind of an adventure?” She asked.

“I was thinking about going to the club where Matt was last seen. I think we could find some answers there. This should be relatively low-risk, just poke our nose around and see if anyone recognizes him. What do you say?”

“Of course, anything I can do to help. I can’t sit by his bedside waiting anymore. I’m his big sister, his protector. Let’s get going,” she said throwing the controller to the floor. That was a big gaming faux pa but I let it slide, only once though, only once.

I turned the TV and the N64 off and raced out the bedroom to catch up to Dru. She was already on the ground floor making a b-line for the back door. She was a fiery one and even through the tears she still remained positive, remained even-headed. The people responsible needed to be held responsible. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She was a guest in my house, she played games with me, she laughed, she cried and now I couldn’t let her down. I may not have had any female influences in my life but my protective nature started taking over.

She stopped before the back entrance to wait for me. Did I mention she was smart?

We stepped out of the back. “What ride do you want to take, Dru?”

“Is it alright if we take yours? I don’t know where we are going.”

“That sounds fine by me,” I replied. She should’ve asked what kind of ride I had first, but she didn’t.

 

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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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