by Hunter Blain
“He wanted to make sure Hitler was truly scared out of his wits, and knew the bullets wouldn’t harm him.”
“What if he shot you?” Meli asked, drawing a look from both Tiffany and Depweg.
Sensing she was serious, and then remembering she preferred her woman-suit over the werecat, Depweg answered, “They weren’t silver. Yeah, it would have hurt, but though giving Hitler the gun was stupid, I agree that I wanted that man—who had violated my country and what it stood for—to suffer.”
“You’re German?” Tiffany asked, intrigued. “You don’t sound like it.”
In that moment, Depweg understood that Tiffany was both young and already an American before she was turned. Depweg shifted his gaze to Meli, who barely nodded in confirmation of the wordless question that had been asked.
Tiffany noticed the exchange, and asked in a tone that was bordering on frustration for being the odd man out, “What?”
Depweg answered.
“Most—if not all—supes subconsciously adopt the accent of their surrounding area.”
“Supes?” Tiffany asked, shifting her questioning gaze between Meli and Depweg.
“Supernaturals,” Meli clarified. “Not just us weres, either.”
“You mean there’s, like, Loch Ness monsters an-an-and chupacabras and, um, bigfoots?” Tiffany asked, simultaneously worried and excited about the existence of such beasts of legends.
“I’ve never met any of those personally. Though John has mentioned a wizard from Chicago working with Bigfoot,” Depweg said. “But it’s possible he might have been rambling about a book or movie.”
After a moment of crinkling her face in thought, Tiffany’s features relaxed as she said, “So you don’t have a German accent because you are in Nebraska? And, somehow, it’s done for you…because you are a, um, supe?”
“Before you ask how that’s possible, let me just say that…I have no idea how a nuclear reactor works. I just know that it does,” Depweg said, content with his explanation.
The room was silent for a beat, prompting Meli to renew a topic of conversation that had fallen by the wayside.
Nodding toward the green phone, she asked, “So what now?”
“I have no idea.” Depweg sighed. But Meli noticed there was a relaxed aspect to the sigh, as if a huge weight was being temporarily dropped from his shoulders, ready to be picked up again when the time came.
“Wanna go for a walk?” Meli asked casually. When Depweg and Tiffany both looked at her, she justified with, “I mean, you’re already wearing the right outfit.”
Depweg looked down at his athletic clothing, fighting the urge to tug his uncomfortably short shorts down a few inches.
“I’ll go!” Tiffany excitedly exclaimed with an arm fully extended toward the ceiling and waving back and forth like a school child who really had to use the potty.
Then the excitement drained from Tiffany’s face as her arm went flaccid and slowly dropped back to her lap. “Oh, wait, I have to work in an hour.” To further express her disappointment, Tiffany made a dramatic pouty face before the realization that Meli and Depweg would be left alone during her shift struck her. At the thought, her face went slack as glaring eyes locked onto Meli’s.
“I could use a walk to help clear my head. This…this has just been too much,” Depweg admitted. “Don’t suppose you have any shoes my size?”
Tiffany’s shoulders seemed to fall as she silently stood up and made her way to a bedroom down the hall. She didn’t slam the door, but neither did she shut it gently.
“What size are you?” Meli asked, a half grin lifting one corner of her mouth.
15
Locke - The In-Between
“This way,” Locke instructed the siblings to follow him toward the door of his dorm room.
“But we just came from th—” Meli began as Locke waved his hand over the thick wood and then reached down to grip the handle.
The door opened into an expensive-looking bedroom.
From what Meli could see, there was recessed lighting, a reflective black stone floor, and fancy furniture that one would equate to wealth.
Locke passed through the doorway, with Meli and Ben hesitantly following close behind, their eyes searching in all directions before fully committing to stepping through the frame.
Once inside, Locke languidly swiped a hand through the air, and the door closed behind them. There was an audible pop as the connection to the dormitory was severed.
“Your rooms are this way,” Locke said as he opened the door again to reveal a hallway that seemed to be directly connected to the room. Where the dorm had been that of a low-level student of the Council, this bedroom was elegant (for a bachelor). The hallway walls, floor, and ceiling matched the bedroom they stood in, indicating no more magic was being used.
“Um, is this a house or a hotel?” Meli asked as she followed Locke down the hallway. She crossed her arms as they walked, and her skin prickled due to how cold the boys kept the mansion.
Everything was lavish, including the kitchen at the end of the hallway leading to Locke’s bedroom.
“This is totally a dude’s kitchen,” Meli mused as she gave the cabinets, floor, countertops, and appliances a once over.
“Thanks,” Locke said with a smile as he continued to a large foyer. “Upstairs and to the right. There should be plenty of empty rooms.”
“How will we know if they’re empty?” Ben asked, looking up at the second floor.
“Name plaques next to each door. There’s only a few of us right now…” as Locke finished his thought, he trailed off. “Fewer…now.” The thought of Lachesis informing him of Ludvig’s death made his heart grow heavy, but now was not the time. Shrugging off the wave of emotion for his lost friend, Locke said, “Feel free to explore while I try and figure out what the Elders were referring to.”
With that, he turned and began making his way back toward his room.
Meli and Ben looked at one another, shrugged, and slowly began making their way up the impressive staircase.
Once in his room, Locke shut the door behind him, disrobed, and threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. A light cloud of dust wafted up, reminding Locke of the battle that had almost claimed his life.
After that, he made his way into the large bathroom and turned the hot water on.
It only took a few seconds for the tankless water heaters that each bathroom had to kick on and fill the large shower area with welcoming steam.
As Locke stepped under the huge rainfall showerhead, he gasped at how hot the water was, and immediately felt every bump and bruise as his entire body tensed. After a few seconds, Locke exhaled a long breath and succumbed to the heat of the water.
Placing his hands against the wall, Locke lowered his head and looked over the numerous wounds on his body as the water left red trails down his skin from the heat. Nurse Isaac had done an exemplary job of helping Locke to heal, but the battle with the were-pires had been a ferocious one, and Locke had a new collection of scars to prove it.
An image of the battle came to mind, and Locke shot his eye toward the laundry basket, remembering something of vast importance.
A note was jotted down in his mind for after the relaxing shower, and Locke let himself be taken by the warmth once again.
Lifting his face to the water, Locke let the cleansing rain from the showerhead spill onto his face, including the gaping hole where his eye had once been. Such an odd sensation, which grew increasingly unpleasant as the water pooled.
Jerking his face toward the ground, Locke opened his remaining eye to see a torrent of pink-tinted water fall from his empty socket and splash on the shower floor before disappearing down the drain in a mesmerizing swirl.
After several minutes of standing still and watching the drain, Locke went through his usual routine until he felt somewhat like himself again.
Turning off the water, he walked to where fluffy, heated towels awaited him, wanting nothing more than to
dry him while providing calming warmth.
Lifting the top towel off the rack with both hands, Locke all but slammed the thick material into his face, and screamed. He didn’t know why. Suffice to say, he just felt like yelling.
Pulling the white material away, Locke could see a patch of fresh blood in the indentation of his empty eye socket, and dropped the tainted towel—which had only wanted to make his life even a tiny bit better—on the ground.
Picking up the next highest from the heated rack, Locke feverishly dried his hair and body, leaving further red marks on his skin from how hard his hands moved.
Discarding the second towel atop the first, Locke walked naked to one of his dual sinks, placing both hands on the black stone.
Letting his head hang low, Locke put a lot of his weight on his hands as he slowly shook his head, letting everything sink in.
Elder Gryff came to mind. Locke’s remaining eye locked onto a point in space and went unfocused as his mind played back the scene.
“You may have won a battle, but could have started a war,” he had said.
Locke reflected on that for a long moment, focusing on the way Elder Gryff had said the words instead of the words themselves.
After standing there for long enough that the steam had cooled and begun to chill Locke, the wizard straightened while he lifted his eye to the mirror and ran a hand over the condensation.
A grotesque figure stared back at him, the empty socket drawing unwanted attention like that stupid Exit sign at the movie theater that was brighter than the film on screen, constantly stealing your focus.
Without being told to do so, an exploratory hand reached up to rest on his cheek as curious fingers explored the bone around the empty socket. Once the unexplained desire to stick a finger in the void reared its ugly head, Locke slammed his palm back on the counter and lowered his face to the sink.
An obvious idea came to him, and Locke cast a simple illusion over his missing eye. The empty socket was replaced with the unsettling image of an eye that did not move in tandem with the other, nor was it even the same color. Seeing as how he hadn’t spent a lot of time with illusionary constructs, the eye was at least passable. However, he knew an eyepatch would probably be in his future until he learned how to master conficio, which dealt with creating illusions.
The words of Elders Tafoya and Scymanky came to mind, giving Locke a reason to move forward.
With a determined expression forced onto his face, Locke brushed his teeth, put on his deodorant, shaved, and combed his hair, all without making eye contact with himself in the mirror that was streaking with condensation.
Returning to his room, Locke selected a clean brown robe that signified his position within the Council and set it on the bed.
Once the rest of his clothes were on, including clean socks and a spotless pair of black tennis shoes, Locke donned his robe and returned to the laundry basket.
After pocketing the nine-inch nail, Locke made his way to his closed bedroom door. Waving his hand, Locke focused on the spell in his mind, and connected his bedroom back to the dormitory.
Turning the handle, he opened the doorway and entered his dorm room with the goal of finding out what else the pair of Elders had in store for him.
16
Lilith
The last of the mantle’s power drained from Lilith’s body, leaving her to gasp with shuddering breaths as she clutched at Taylor’s tomb of ice.
Lifting her face, Lilith flicked her eyes all around to discover where her urgent, panicking mind had taken her during the emergency shift.
Clean gray stone sat atop a well-manicured lawn, with stained glass faces peering from their two-dimensional world.
Movement caught Lilith’s eye, and she looked up to see two stone gargoyles swiftly moving down a slanted roof, stoic expressions etched into the features of the beautiful angel and lumbering feline.
“Please,” Lilith let out in defeat as her head hung low. “I…I have nowhere else to go…”
The stone creatures leaped off the roof to land on either side of the fallen queen of Faerie. Expressionless faces regarded both Lilith and the block of deep blue ice containing the elf, TalGoid.
A mechanical latch was unlocked with a powerful click as the front door creaked open.
From the shadows, a man cloaked in black robes and a white collar emerged, an unreadable expression on his withered and wrinkled face.
“You must be desperate indeed to seek asylum with me, demon,” Father Thomes Philseep said coldly as he approached the emotionally subdued Lilith.
“I’m no demon,” she retorted barely over a whisper as she lowered her gaze to the frozen Taylor, tears filling her eyes.
“A rose by any other name,” Father Thomes said dismissively as he peered closer to the black snakes attached to the elf’s body. “Explain yourself, then.”
“Magni…he-he’s become a sorcerer…and taken over all of Faerie.”
As if on cue, thick clouds the color of tar and lined with ivory began filling the sky with a threatening rumble of thunder.
“I see…” Thomes Philseep said as his gaze ran the entire length of the horizon, verifying that the sky had been completely swallowed by darkness. Narrowing eyes shifted to lock onto Lilith’s head before sliding over the frozen Taylor. “Magni now wears the crowns of both Summer and Winter?”
Lilith could only nod her head in confirmation, as if speaking the words aloud would make her heart explode with grief.
“Your weakness has doomed us all, demon.”
Father Philseep abruptly turned and swiftly began striding toward the church’s front door. He didn’t tell Lilith to follow him. Instead, as she stared at his back, Thomes Philseep lifted a single hand next to his head and beckoned her with his index finger.
In response, the gargoyles positioned themselves on either side of Taylor’s prison, pushing Lilith out of the way as if she were nothing more than a small barking dog that was blocking the door.
The gargoyle statue stood on its hind legs as its front paws carried Taylor, with the angel taking up the opposite end.
After the stone defenders disappeared into the shadows of the church’s front door, Lilith finally stood…and followed. A single rumble of thunder seemed to chuckle as she retreated into the safety of the church.
17
John
“EEEEEEEEEEEEE!” I bellowed like a manly man and not at all in a pitch that resembled the song of crickets.
The light that washed over me brought with it a wall of force that made it feel like I had belly flopped into the water from the highest diving board at the community pool.
As the air—graciously provided by my celestial armor—whooshed from my lungs, I began to lose focus on the universe around me.
A hand shot out toward Jose’s bubble that was beginning to fade, and I renewed the strength for the manifestation.
“Shit…” I squeaked without being able to get my diaphragm to relax. I had caught my slipup just in time. I hoped Jose knew how lucky he was! I wanted to be impressed at my ability to focus on anything else besides my withered lungs after experiencing a cosmic belly flop, but my companion’s life was at stake…so I only gave myself the tiniest of thumbs-up.
Streaking stars caught my attention, and I jerked my head toward my closed front fist to see I was still surfing at a momentum close to the speed of light.
A majestic white orb declared its kingdom, bathing me in pure, unadulterated light, and it took me a moment to realize it was our sun. I had forgotten that the Earth’s atmosphere made it appear orange instead of the brilliant white I was currently in awe of.
Power rushed into me as I became aware that a lot of my angelic batteries had been depleted, giving way to an uncomfortable notion that I could have easily died in the black hole; which, now that I think about it out loud, per se, might have been the most duh thing I have ever said. And I’ve said a lot over the centuries.
I remember thinking that the a
bbreviation for drive at the end of a road meant doctor. So anytime I saw something that indicated, say, Trail Lake Dr (spelled with the letters D and R for you audible people), I would say to myself Trail Lake Doctor. Imagine my embarrassment when I wrongly said the street name out loud to my friends. The rest of the car ride was full of laughter…but not from me.
But seriously, pretty dumb right? But not as duh as what I had just thought in regard to the ease with which I could have perished while inside a mammoth of a black hole.
Anyway…
A half-blue, half-black orb appeared off to my right as a large mass covered in shadows rocketed toward me.
“Holy Dark Side of the Moon, Batman!” I cried out, my diaphragm relaxing enough for me to suck in a breath provided by my angelic armor.
While trying not to panic and throw my left fist into a flat palm, I instead focused on slowly opening my space-time-condensing grip while simultaneously closing my fabric-of-reality-stretching hand.
The laser streaks of stars began to slow into elongated lines before eventually forming fast-moving orbs of light.
Easing further and further to a comfortable speed, I rounded the moon, feeling its pull as I consciously gave up a degree of control and let the armor position me in the proper speed and trajectory to be slung around toward Earth.
The beautiful sun was eclipsed by the black orb of the moon, and immediately, I felt a significant shift from being removed from the warmth of our life-giving star. I hadn’t noticed it when traveling deep at the center of our galaxy, but emerging from the black hole into the direct sunlight, and then having it taken away in an instant, was somewhat unnerving.
Sensing I had overcorrected a tad, I increased the speed by shifting my hands to the spot the armor wordlessly suggested was within the safety margin of error.
“I love you, Mr. Armor,” I said to myself as I surfed a path around the moon and used its own gravity to slingshot me in a path that led directly to Earth.