Bloodstone: Written in Stone

by R. J. Ladon

  The stone traveled randomly, in cold and darkness. Always, pinpricks of light from galaxies and stars followed the stone.

  Kragnor set the stone back in its box. He didn’t realize the vastness of the space that surrounded Earth. His head hurt as he tried to wrap his imagination around the thought. The stone didn’t finish its story. There was so much more to see. Its story was vast compared to the voices on Earth. Compared to his own story. For the first time in his life, Kragnor felt very small and insignificant.

  Heat rolled up the gargoyle’s spine. Kragnor blinked, looking for a clock. Where were Artem and Megan?

  Chapter 54

  K evin’s eyes opened. Boxes took up most of the space on the floor and shelves. He sat up, noticing he was not in the attic.

  The desk near the door looked familiar. It was Artem’s. After Kragnor saw the stones, they must have had to wait for the morning. A giant, walking, talking, gargoyle leaving the museum would be noticed. Kevin stood and saw his clothes on the desk. He put them on and waited. Where did Artem and Megan go? Why were they not here when he woke? Maybe something happened, and he was on his own.

  He pulled the phone out of his pocket to call Ruby and get a ride home. As he started to dial, the phone rang. It wasn’t a number he knew. Might be Megan; she never called before.

  Kevin answered it, “Hello?”

  “Hi Kevin, it’s Megan. Dad and I went to breakfast with Tai Lu. Her car is out front with a couple of her men. They’ll bring you to us.”

  Kevin frowned. “We were all over the museum yesterday. I’m not sure I know how to get out.”

  “Ask for the main doors. There are plenty of people who will help you. Please hurry.” Megan hung up.

  “Weird phone call.” Kevin shrugged, then made sure he had everything before leaving Artem’s office. He followed the hallway past the empty guard table and into the central part of the museum, where the giant Moi statue stood. Between the maps displayed in the intersections and the wandering guards, Kevin found his way to the front doors.

  Just as Megan promised, there was a car parked at the bottom of the stairs. A man in a black suit stood outside the vehicle. He looked like one of the men from the night before. Kevin approached. “Hello, I was told to go with you.”

  The man knocked on the top of the car, two men from the back seat got out. One of them stepped aside, opening the door wide, indicating without talking that Kevin should enter. Kevin slipped into the car. The men sandwiched him in the back seat. The black suit standing outside the car sat in the driver’s seat. He started the car and drove away from the museum.

  The men didn’t look at him or talk to each other; instead, they stared straight ahead. Kevin wondered if their behavior was routine for servants. Maybe the rich didn’t like small talk. His phone rang. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

  The man on the right took the phone and spoke Mandarin rapidly. Did the man sound mad? Kevin reached for the phone. It was his. Why did they take it from him? The driver responded by barking orders. The window rolled down, and Kevin’s phone flew out.

  “Hey! What the hell did you do that for?”

  More Mandarin shouting passed between the three men. Kevin felt the men move closer to him, restraining him in place. Why do I get the feeling that we are not going for breakfast? What did they want with him? He’d seen enough movies to know that they didn’t cover his head. They had no intention of letting him go. Am I about to be sold into slavery? What if they intend to harvest my organs?

  They drove into a manufacturing area. Many of the buildings were tagged with graffiti and appeared abandoned. The car entered a concrete and metal structure, like a parking garage. They went down a ramp and around a corkscrew path, eventually parking with a couple of other cars near an elevator.

  The men got out of the car, pulled revolvers from under their jackets, and pointed them at him. “Please, come.” The driver jerked the weapon, indicating direction.

  Kevin held up his hands. “Okay, okay. No reason to get hostile.” He scooted out of the car. The men moved him into the elevator. The driver pressed an unmarked button while the other two kept their guns pointed at Kevin. The elevator ran so smoothly it was impossible to tell if they went up or down.

  The elevator door opened, and Kevin was directed with the business end of a gun and the ever-present “please.” He wondered if the men spoke any English. Most of the building was dark. There were no lettering or pictures on the walls, nothing to indicate a business name or location. Only concrete walls.

  The men pushed Kevin through a small concrete opening. They followed one at a time.

  “Welcome home, Kevin.” The woman from the night before sat on a concrete stool on the concrete floor.

  Kevin narrowed his eyes. “You know my name, but I can’t remember yours.” The walls of the room were dark but also appeared to be concrete. In the center of the room, under bright lights, was a cage made of concrete and iron bars. Was that his new home?

  “Call me Tai Lu, your new master.” The woman mocked a bow. She looked at the men. “Put him in.”

  Hands shoved Kevin into the cage. The metal door closed behind him. Inside, rebar showed through the damaged concrete. She didn’t intend for me to live in this, did she?

  “Why am I in a cage?”

  Tai Lu smiled. “You’ve walked into my factory.” She tapped her bottom lip. “No. It’s more like a slaughterhouse.” A smirk crossed her face.

  “I knew it. You’re going to take my organs.” Kevin broke out into a sweat.

  “If I wanted your organs, I would have left the rest of you on the street.” She approached the cage. “But I do need a piece of you.”

  “What?”

  “Push him.”

  Behind and out of sight, he heard movement. Someone approached the cage. The zap of an electric charge brought sulfur to his nose. Kevin gasped and turned around. They were not men. They had the body of a serpent with the head and shoulders of a man. Medusa-like. Except the men had bald green heads, not Medusa’s signature serpentine hair. The rods they carried went into the cage, with the promise of electric pain.

  “What do you want from me?” Kevin shouted.

  “Give me your hand.” Tai Lu commanded.

  Kevin thrust his hand through the bars in her direction. She took it, holding it gently. “You have such soft hands. It’ll be a shame to mar them.” Tai Lu put out her hand like a surgeon waiting for an instrument from the attending nurse. A snake-man slithered to her side and handed her a set of bolt cutters.

  Kevin jerked his hand back into the cage.

  “Shock him until he complies.” Tai Lu instructed her men.

  Kevin looked at the advancing cattle prods. “No, wait. Stop.”

  Tai Lu lifted her hand, and the men stopped. “Are you willing to cooperate?”

  “No, but I have little choice.” Kevin put his left hand through the bars.

  “There’s a good boy.” Tai Lu told him. “Chen hold his arm. I want the honors.”

  The snake-man held Kevin’s forearm in a vice-like grasp. The scaley waist blocked his view. Not that he wanted to see his fingers removed. The cold cutters touched his pinky at the joint closest to his palm. He fought the urge to pull away. Kevin knew the cattle prods' pain would be worse, and they would take his finger anyway. He held his breath and felt the blade bite. The pain rolled up his arm. Kevin screamed, pulling his hand back into the cage. He stared at the stump, not wanting to believe. Blood poured from the wound.

  A white rag hit him in the face. The snake-man looked through the bars. “Put pressure on it. The blood will stop.”

  Tai Lu held up the small finger like she won a prize. “You have made me very proud, Kevin.”

  “What are you going to do with it?” Kevin sobbed.

  “We,” she indicated everyone in attendance. “Are going to see if it turns to gargoyle when you do.” She smiled.

  “And if it does?”

  “Then, tomorr
ow, I will take all your fingers and toes.” She put the pinky on the concrete stool and spun around like a fool. “Maybe your hands and feet too, who knows.” She laughed. “But I can’t go too far because if you die before you turn, then your bits won’t turn at all.” She stomped toward the cage. “And that would make me very, very upset.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Kevin whimpered, imagining the pain and suffering he was going to endure the following day.

  “Do you know how hard it is to cut up gargoyle into recognizable, sell-able bits?” Tai Lu sighed. “It’s not easy. There comes a time when a piece of the torso looks like a rock and nothing more. It’s hard to convince buyers that it really is a piece of a gargoyle. Now a finger. That always looks like a finger, no doubts from buyer or seller.” She spun around again and headed toward the door. “Watch him, boys. I’ll be back before sunset.”

  Kevin fell into a fit filled sleep. His mind fought between the fear of the coming day and the desire for the torture to be over. He’d rather be dead than fear the future.

  Tapping rattled the door. “Get up. She approaches.” The snake-man seemed to take pity on him.

  Kevin sat on the bottom of the cage, arms folded over his knees. His hand throbbed with pain. The scarlet bandage hung over his wound. His stomach turned every time he saw the blood or the pinky on the stool. He’d heard stories of people willing themselves dead. They must have been in a predicament like this one.

  “Aw, my pet is awake.” Tai Lu walked into the room, holding a tray. “I brought you something.” She set it on the floor just outside the cage bars. If he wanted, he could reach through and take the food. “I promised breakfast this morning, didn’t I?” She laughed.

  On the tray was a gold plate with a bacon-wrapped filet mignon, potato, and salad. Kevin’s stomach rolled, and he covered his mouth. He was not ready to deal with the idea of a last meal.

  “When will he turn?” The snake-man asked.

  “According to Artem, in just a few minutes.” Tai Lu picked up the pinky and held it up to watch the transformation from her vantage point. “Kevin, be a peach and let the gargoyle out.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Kevin grunted.

  “Give it a try,” she said quietly through clenched teeth.

  “I’ll do my best,” Kevin said. If he could hold Kragnor from coming, he would. He focused, willing to try anything. The heat and pain that cascaded down his back, heralding the gargoyles' arrival, coincided with Tai Lu hooting with happiness.

  Chapter 55

  M egan woke among her blankets and pillows in her bedroom. She moved, stretching, her head pounded in her ears. Her tongue was thick and had a weird coating on it. The sliver of light around the window hurt to look at. She concentrated; there was something important… She grunted, putting her head in her hands. Megan noticed her shirt. She wasn’t wearing pajamas; she wore the clothes from the trip to the museum.

  The museum!

  She sat up. Her head screamed as if it would break in half. Water. She stumbled into the adjoining bathroom and drank as the water filled her cupped hands. In the sink was her bottle of sleeping medication, and it was empty. She opened the medicine cabinet and fumbled to find pain medication. She took three times the recommended dose, chasing it with more water. Megan moved to her bed and laid on top of the covers. She would give it a few minutes. She glanced at the time, three twenty-four.

  What happened last night? She remembered the Chinese people. And Kragnor. But the rest was blurry. The bottle of water Artem gave her must have had something in it.

  Megan sat up and immediately wished she hadn’t. She gently leaned back into the blankets. A few more minutes was all Megan needed. She closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead, temples, and neck.

  Megan looked at the clock radio, one-minute past four. Her head still pulsed, but the pain was bearable. She sat up, waited a moment for her head to explode, but it didn’t. She stood, paused, and counted to ten, then continued to her unlocked door.

  She wandered into the living room and kitchen; both were empty. Megan walked into the den, where Artem sat in a wing-backed chair. He rifled through a box and tossed papers into the fireplace. A few other empty boxes were beside the chair.

  He looked up at her approach. He seemed surprised. “You sure slept late today,” he said. Without looking, he threw more into the fireplace. The fire, suffocated by the papers, spit out thick white smoke, causing him to cough.

  “What are you doing? You’re going to set the house on fire.”

  Artem looked at her blankly and offered nothing.

  She looked at the box, written on the side was Megan. “Why are you burning my things?” She made to grab the box, but he tossed the whole thing. The fire, already choked by ash and paper, pumped out more white billowy smoke, filling the room. “What is wrong with you?” Megan pulled the smoldering box out of the fireplace, leaving it on the brick hearth. She ran to a window and opened it, allowing fresh air in.

  “That part of my life is over.” Artem moved to the window, breathing deeply.

  “What are you talking about?” Megan looked at the box with her name on it. What did that mean? Was he done with her?

  “I no longer have to run.”

  “Didn’t we discuss this the other day? We’re going to make a stand here. Remember?” Megan sat in the winged chair by the fireplace. From the box, she pulled meaningless paperwork and photos. The baby in the picture might have been her, but she couldn’t tell. The small village seemed familiar. She closed her eyes, trying to think. Her head still pounded.

  “That will never be enough. I’d still be killed.” Artem cleared his throat and moved from the window to Megan’s side, looking over her shoulder at the pictures she pulled from the box.

  “The Russian Mafia?” She held up another photo. It was a double-take. Old cameras sometimes shot two pictures over each other, causing a double image. This double-take was over the baby, making her look furry. Megan found the photo compelling and tucked it between her leg and the chair.

  “I lied,” Artem said in undertones. She barely heard him. He sounded afraid.

  Megan frowned. “What did you lie about?” She went through more photos in the box, finding one that reminded her of her mother. This picture looked like a double take too. The woman was tall and beautiful, but her outline was blurry. Next to her was a small old man who looked like an older version of Nikolai. That man could be Nikolai’s father or grandfather. She added the photo to the baby picture under her leg.

  “Russians are after us, yes. But not just the mafia.” Artem shook his head. “If it were only the mafia. Then I’d have a chance.”

  She pulled another photo, a candid shot of the beautiful woman. The woman looked at something outside the view of the camera. Her gaze was intense. “Who besides the mafia, would come after us?” Megan remembered the fear her father had whenever they bugged out in the past. His anxiety was very real, very palpable. “Who scares you more than the Russian mafia?”

  Artem plucked the photo from Megan’s hand. “The Wolf of Siberia.” A strange smile crossed his face. “I loved her. But I don’t think she loves me. I’m not even sure she is capable of that kind of love. She promised me help but was slow to deliver, so I stole what she promised.”

  “What?” Megan took the photo back. “I don’t understand.”

  “She promised me one of her offspring to protect me. I took you and raised you to think I was your father. So you would protect me because of love. But I see now, my effort was for nothing. You don’t love me. You want to escape. To go off to college, to date, to have your own life. But that no longer matters. I don’t care if you go back to your mother. I no longer fear her retribution nor that of the mafia.” His expression softened into a contented smile. “Everything changed last night.”

  Megan leaned back in the chair. She looked at Artem, really looked at him. This man she assumed was her father. “What did you do to Kevin and Kragnor?”

&nbs
p; Artem stiffened, pinching his eyes shut for a moment. “I sold the boy and the beast to Tai Lu.”

  “What was your price?” Megan narrowed her eyes.

  “My freedom.” His expression turned smug. “I’m cutting ties with you and Nikolai.”

  Megan stood from the chair and stared into her father’s eyes. “You sold my friends for your freedom?” She ran from the room and went straight to her bedroom, intending to leave Artem.

  On the bed was a wrinkled note she didn’t notice before. It read, “My life has no meaning.” Was it supposed to be a suicide note? Megan remembered the empty bottle of sleeping pills in her sink. She only used thirty of a three-month supply. Did he put the rest in her water bottle? Artem tried to kill her.

  Megan pulled the duffle bag from under her bed, filling it with clothes, toiletries from her bathroom, and the photos. She looked around the room and realized her weapons were missing.

  “Where do you think you are going?” Artem stood in her doorway.

  “Why do you care?” Megan shook the suicide note at him.

  Artem shrugged apologetically. “I need a fresh start.” His smile reminded her of a lunatic. “I can’t have any loose ends.” Artem looked down the hall towards the kitchen. “It is a good headache, though, isn’t it? Seems I had one the other day.” He raised his eyebrows. “You should have stayed asleep.” He slammed her bedroom door closed.

  Megan frowned at the door. Loose ends? Both she and Nikolai were expendable. Artem’s shoes sounded hollow as he walked around the house. He entered the kitchen and then the pantry. The home defense alarm sounded. “Shit.” The panic room was the hub of the defensive systems. Megan ran to her window but couldn’t stop the metal curtain that dropped and locked in place. Would he release the gas? Not if he planned on escaping.

  She moved to the door. The handle turned, but the door was secured from the outside. It wouldn’t budge. Megan traced her hand around the trim, checking for an alternate way to open the door. The metal door felt hot near the top. “I don’t believe it! He set a goddamn fire!” Megan went to her bathroom, turning on the tap water. Nothing. Opening the reservoir on the back of the toilet, she dumped her towels inside, splashing water on the floor. Megan packed the wet cloth around her bedroom door, trying to keep the smoke out. She needed to buy time to break out of her room.