The Quest For the Black Dragon

by D.E. Dunlop

  “What’s what?”

  “Samhain.”

  “The Brotherhood of Anon believes that Samhain is a time when the veils between the spirit world and the physical are thinnest; allowing spirit and man, alike, to pass back and forth.” Tinne explained.

  “So, what, you do a séance or something?” Jas’n asked.

  “Sort of, yeah.” Tinne answered.

  “Creepy.” Jas’n said.

  “Isn’t Sunnidale Forest haunted?” Ren suggested.

  “I think you’re thinking of the Minesing Swamp.” Jas’n said.

  “They’re attached though, right?” Ren added.

  “Well, if it is haunted I’ll find out tomorrow.” Tinne said.

  “No, no. I’m pretty sure there’s a ghost in the Sunnidale Forest as well.” Ren said after thinking on it some more. “Yeah, there’s The Witch-Beyond-the-Marsh and the Beast of the Bay.” They all laughed heartily at the local hoax that some actually believed in. “The Ghost of the Glenn.” He said when it finally came to him.

  “What about the Ghost of the Glenn?” Ezbieta asked as she approached the table.

  “Hey, Gorgeous!” Ren exclaimed and jumped up to hug her.

  “Ren was just telling us about the ghost that haunts Sunnidale Forest. We weren’t sure if there was a ghost or if it was the Minesing Swamp or both.” Jas’n explained.

  “They’re both haunted.” Ezbieta said confidently after giving Ren a kiss. She made her way around to her seat between the table and the window. “I remember when I was a kid the older kids would tell a story of the Ghost of the Glenn. We were afraid to go near the west wall of the city.” She said.

  “Well, of course, the forest starts right there.” Ren supported.

  “They used to tell us that the ghost would catch little children and take them deep into the forest. Once he got them there he would keep them for slave labour.”

  “What kind of ghost needs slave labour?” Jas’n asked with a chuckle.

  “We were just kids. We didn’t know any better.” Ezbieta excused. “We questioned it later and it turns out that he’s not really a ghost. He’s some old creepy guy who stays in the forest and wears a white robe. We decided to keep calling him a ghost because the most you would see of him was a glimpse as he disappeared.”

  “Have you ever seen him?” Ren asked eagerly. They had all placed their full attention on the tale she laid out before them.

  “Yeah, I saw him once. I’ve heard him a few times; definitely creepy.” Ezbieta added.

  “What did he sound like? What were you doing?” Tinne inquired.

  “A group of us decided to go look for him. We were about fourteen or fifteen years old, playing dare. You know how it is.”

  “Dare, eh? What else did you crazy young girls do?” Ren asked with suggestive eyes.

  “Well, first we all let down our hair.” She said while she shook her long brown hair out of the bun it was in while she had been at work. “And then we went up to the counter and bought a tea.” She added seductively before going up to get herself a tea. Jas’n and Tinne laughed openly while Ren’s eyes fallowed Ezbieta.

  “Man, I love her.” Ren said.

  Ezbieta returned in a few minutes and resumed the tale.

  “So we went into the forest. Even though it was midday the forest was fairly dark and dreary. The sounds of the animals seemed to echo off the moss-ridden trees. We went quite far in and then we were aware of a strange sound that was almost like talking. It was accompanied by a feeling of foreboding.”

  “I think I would’ve bailed at that point.” Jas’n chuckled.

  “Well, if that wasn’t enough, we realized a number of the trees had faces on them. Some were engraved and some were carved and each tree that had a face had a second on the other side.”

  “And that’s when you bailed, right?”

  “It was seriously considered, but for some reason I felt more intrigued than scared, so I convinced the others to go further. The forest grew darker as we went. There were rock cairns erected all over and the strange chanting grew louder and we could feel its tones resonating in our chests. Kim saw something white in the corner of her eye and screamed. We all bunched together and almost forgot to breathe for about a minute. We caught a few more fleeting glimpses and that was enough. You couldn’t have caught us with two horses and a California cart; we left so fast. The chanting was replaced with the sound of screeching fourteen year olds. We tripped and fell over roots, rocks, each other and our own fears. When we collapsed inside the city walls our clothes were ripped and our arms, legs and faces were scratched from leaves and branches.” She was laughing by now.

  “So did you go home for a change of shorts?” Ren teased and they all laughed.

  “No one admitted it, but I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

  “So have you ever been back to that forest?” Jas’n asked. “Oh, yeah, Kearsey.” He added, remembering his friends often hung out in the ancient cemetery on hot summer nights.

  “So did you see him that time or did you go back again?” Tinne asked.

  “I saw a man in white out of the corner of my eye as we ran through the forest. It might have been him. I don’t know for sure.”

  The following afternoon found the small group of friends gathered, yet again, in the front window of Dick’s Place. They were going about their usual nonsensical gabbing when Mike noticed something of interest.

  “Look at that jackass.” Mike said while watching a large man on the street get slapped in the back of the head by a much smaller man. “He could destroy that guy, but he’s not even retaliating.” He complained.

  Ezbieta, Tinne Jas’n and Ren turned to watch.

  “Saint.” Tinne muttered with a sneer.

  “He’s probably blessing him.” Jas’n laughed.

  The two men on the street dispersed after a few, one sided, slaps and some shouts were delivered.

  “Weak minded fools.” Tinne said.

  “You think?” Ren asked.

  “You don’t?” Jas’n replied.

  “Just think about it. I’m sure he wanted to pound the breath right out of him, but he didn’t.” Ezbieta said.

  “Maybe.” Tinne said. He thought about how hard it would actually be to say kind words to that miserable little puke in exchange for his assault.

  “It’s harder to control yourself than it is to unleash; of course it feels better to unleash.” Ren said. “There’s no way I could’ve retained myself in that situation.”

  “I might have walked away, but that’s just because I have confrontation issues.” Jas’n said with a smile.

  “I might have walked away too, but I would have turned him into a newt later on.” Ezbieta said.

  Everyone laughed at the idea.

  “She turned me into a newt.” Jas’n said with his best English accent. “I got bettah.” He added after a moment.

  They were quickly carried away with their Monty Python impersonations.

  “‘Ow do you know she’s a witch?”

  “She looks like one.”

  Chapter 5

  Potatoes and Pillories

  The moon was low in the west. Ren and Tinne gazed at it from their favourite window at Dick’s Place, each in their own world; Ren with his score and calligraphy pen and Tinne with his pad of paper and graphite sticks.

  They had each, however, drifted off into imagination and had not actually done any work in over an hour.

  Ren looked at Tinne across the table.

  “Did I tell you the dream I had last night?” He asked.

  Tinne turned to him, slightly dazed at the interruption.

  “No. No you didn’t.” He replied when he finally registered the question.

  “It was about you.” Ren began. Tinne raised his eyebrow.

  “I don’t know if I want to hear anymore.” He said.

  “Ha, ha, ha. No
, Schmuck it was just you. You were fighting with some crazy ass witch. You were doing that vanishing trick, but it just made her angry and she began to pummel you. Like, she was totally annihilating you.”

  “Did I die?”

  “No. Well I don’t know. I woke up.”

  “Well thanks for that note of encouragement.”

  “Have you ever had a dream that you could fly?” Tinne asked after a moment of silence.

  Ren looked at him like he was an alien and then laughed a little.

  “Flying you say?”

  “Yeah, I just jump and sail up into the sky. When I start to come down I just flap my arms down to my sides and sail up again. It’s weird. When I wake up in the morning I feel like I actually experienced it.” Tinne explained.

  “I read about that one time. I’m not sure where. You know dreams about flying. It was a book about dream interpretation.” Ren replied.

  “Oh, yeah? What does it mean?” Tinne asked.

  “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” He said and turned back to the window and the darkness growing behind it.

  Tinne curled his bottom lip down briefly and turned back to the window briefly.

  “You know, my dad always told me not to become an artist like him?” Tinne said as he picked up a piece of graphite to draw.

  “Why’s that? I understood your dad was an incredible artist. He was the one everybody wanted in his day.” Ren replied. “Most of the estates in the land have something by him, either great or small.”

  “He said it consumed him. He said it tormented him like some kind of evil curse. When he was executing it he was on top of the world, but he just couldn’t get enough. In the down times he felt like pulling his hair or even his heart out.” Tinne expounded while squinting out into the night.

  “Creepy.”

  “Yeah. And here I am.” Tinne motioned to the art supplies spread before him on the table.

  “And?”

  “He was right. Art is an angel that implores your expression, a demon that drives you beyond human limits. She is pure beauty, a lover extraordinaire and a merciless taskmaster who knows no boundaries. She doesn’t sleep.”

  Ren watched with amazement as Tinne threw a sketch on to the page. Initially it just looked like he was scribbling all over the place, but within a few seconds he recognized his own face staring back.

  “Interesting.” Ren said.

  Tinne lay the work down and they returned to their window gazing.

  **********

  “Well, Schmonge, I’m bored. Let’s walk.” Ren said to Tinne, motioning with his head to the door. Winter had long since melted away and spring was half way through. Throwing on their overcoats, they headed out. Now that spring was here the two enjoyed walking; anytime, day or night it didn’t matter, but they especially enjoyed night walks when the world was asleep.

  “Are you done for the night then, gents?” Dick called from behind the counter.

  “We’ll be back.” Tinne replied without looking back.

  “Slow down already. It’s not a race. Holy Frick! We’ve barely gone five metres and you’re already ahead of me.” Ren complained. “You keep forgetting your pace is one and a half of mine.”

  The two walked with their shoulders shrugged and their hands in their pockets to fight off the chill of the late night air. A few minutes passed in silence, as was often the case.

  The unilock paving, still wet from the early evening shower, glistened under their feet.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” Tinne replied.

  They approached a playground and climbed up onto the wooden apparatus.

  “Aren’t you going to ask?” Ren insisted while lighting a rollie.

  Tinne continued to climb to the top of the highest vertical post where he proceeded to hunch down like some terrible, cloaked gargoyle. He sat on his heels on the top of the post and looked down at his friend.

  “Well, what are we going to do tonight, Ren?” He asked after he was satisfied that his pause caused considerable irritation for his lifelong friend.

  “You’re so glum. Where’s your zest for life? Look around you. What do you see?”

  “Darkness.” Tinne replied, matter-of-factly.

  “No, beyond that. It’s the night. It’s ours. The world is ours for the taking! Ask me again.” Ren persisted. He was the type who had to have things a certain way.

  “Okay, okay. What are we going to do tonight, Ren?” He asked again almost mockingly. He already knew the answer and was slightly annoyed that his friend insisted upon his asking every time they walked.

  “Same thing we do every night, Tinne, try to take over the world!” Ren answered triumphantly with a mocking tone close to maniacal.

  “So what’s the plan?” Tinne asked.

  “Well…no. Never mind. You don’t really want to know.” Ren stalled while he walked across the wooden platform of the playground.

  Tinne turned his head silently like a mutant owl toward Ren. His face lit up as lightning flashed far off in the distance.

  “You know I can’t stand it when you do that.” He said.

  “Do what?”

  “You know what I mean. You get me interested and then decide not to tell me what you were going to tell me.” Tinne complained.

  Ren finished relieving himself at the far side of the apparatus and came back.

  “Let’s keep walking.” Ren said. “I’m cold.”

  The two jumped down from where they were and proceeded into the cool darkness. The streets they walked along, now, were dimly lit. They ventured a part of town seldom ventured after sunset.

  “Why don’t we ever get attacked in the night?” Ren asked almost rhetorically. “You hear of old people getting attacked by groups of young punks. Why not us?”

  “They’re cowards.” Tinne said flatly.

  “Yeah, I guess so, eh.” Ren concurred.

  “I don’t know about the kids now-a-days.” Tinne muttered. “It used to be that a fight was one on one and there was honour in that. If you lost, you made friends with the guy in order to avoid the same humiliation at a later date. But, now if a guy loses a fight he goes and gets a bunch of his friends and they all gang up on the one and sometimes kill him.” Tinne said with obvious disgust.

  Ren looked at him with a look. “You sound like my mom.” He rebuked with the sound of distaste in his voice.

  “Well it’s true. Like you said, they’ll gang up on old people who are defenceless, but they won’t even approach us. They’re a bunch of pathetic cowards.”

  “Down, boy.” Ren teased. “I didn’t know you were going to get all fired up like that. It would be some good sport though, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it would.” Tinne chuckled.

  “Speaking of which, let’s see what sport we can find down here.” Ren said as they turned into the Corridor of Corrections.

  They meandered amongst the pillories like students in an art gallery with their hands behind their backs, reading the charges.

  “These all look like the same charges as last time.” Tinne muttered.

  “Oh, here’s one!” Ren exclaimed. “Let’s see. Says here he’s convicted of unmentionable crimes against children. Let’s cut off his nards.”

  “We can’t.” Tinne said rather flatly.

  “Why not?” Ren insisted indignantly. “He’s a bloody pervert!”

  “Already been done.” Tinne explained, pointing out the trousers around his ankles.

  Ren held his lighter up to get a better look. “Definitely sans nards.” He said with a grimace. “How long d’you think he lasted?”

  “I don’t know, but if I were the father of his victim I’d be on him as soon as the guard turned the corner. There’s no point in that.” Tinne said to Ren as Ren kicked the paedophile hard in the back. “By the look of his face I’d say he’s been dead quite some time.”
/>
  Both men looked further down the dark row as they heard some low and barely audible moans.

  “Let’s see what fun waits down there.” Ren said with a grin to his confident as they sauntered off toward the sounds.

  “Oh finally, someone living.” The prisoner exclaimed. “Please let me out. No one will ever know. The guard’s gone home; it’ll be hours before he comes back. I swear I’ll do anything. I’ve got gold.”

  Tinne and Ren circled the prisoner as his pleas fell on deaf ears.

  “Says here he was convicted of unmentionable crimes against a woman.” Tinne said.

  “I was framed. I swear it. I’m innocent.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Tinne replied as if to the night.

  The two continued to circle, sizing him up as they went.

  “Also says here he was convicted by three eye witnesses.”

  “What shall we do with him?” Tinne asked Ren.

  “We could hammer nails into all his pressure points and see how long it takes to make him pass out.” Ren said rather thoughtfully. “Or, better yet...” his eyes lit up as the idea formulated in his head, “potato cannon.”

  “You think so?” Tinne questioned.

  “Of course. It’ll be a blast!” Ren shouted over his shoulder and he ran off down the corridor with Tinne running reluctantly behind.

  How long they had been gone the prisoner couldn’t tell. In the darkness all alone time was just a myth, an echo in one’s ear between whispers of the night rain. All he knew was the rain had come and gone before they returned. He didn’t know what a potato cannon was and he was not really interested in finding out. He had just begun to hope they had forgotten or changed their minds when he heard voices at the other end. He started to tremble as he heard one set of footsteps coming closer. His eyes had grown somewhat accustomed to the dark and he was able to make out Tinne’s form as he approached.

  “Oh good it’s you.” The prisoner sighed with relief. “You seem to be the more reasonable one. Please. You have to believe me. I’m innocent. Let me go. I can pay you a large sum in gold. Tinne fidgeted with something on the left side of the pillory and then on the right side. “What are you doing?” The man asked and Tinne lit a match to light the candles he had placed on the frame just above the man’s head and to either side. He stood back and looked at the arrangement for a second and ran back down to the entrance of the corridor where Ren was waiting with a length of pipe.