by Peter Fang
The queen hesitated, then said, “Manfred, you are loyal to me. Try this spell when you go see Meredith. It could slow down the ravage.” She tapped her claws against her chamber in a repeating pattern, and phrases appeared in Manfred’s mind.
Manfred’s voice cracked with joy, “Oh, thank you, Queen! I will get things set up right away.”
“You do that, and do it quickly. We don’t have much time left. I’m getting weaker every day. If you want your wife––-and yourself––-to live on, we need to get the blood children quickly.”
The queen took a long, ragged breath and continued, “Don’t forget to spread our web out to find helpers around Seattle. You know the procedures. The scent is heavy around Chinatown, so this will be our base for easy access. Okay, you are free to go.”
“Yes, my Queen. We are in your debt.” Manfred bowed.
Manfred thought about his dying wife every single minute. Even though she didn’t recognize him most of the time, he never wavered in his resolve to care for her. He knew that there was always a way to save his wife with the right spell, but that it wouldn’t be possible until he could get the proper blood child. He suppressed the urge to dwell on the possibilities that the two blood children brought to him, and hurried to get things ready.
Three miles away from the curious eyes of the urban dwellers, a nondescript abandoned red brick warehouse stood silently in the outskirts of Seattle’s waterfront’s industrial area. The main entrance still had a vague outline of the old company sign. Much of the paint had peeled off, and the words were unrecognizable. There were rows of large shattered windows running against one side of the building. It used to be a sight to behold when the clouds cleared and the blushing sunset pledged farewell to the day on the mirror-like windows; now they were boarded up with crazy sprawling graffiti running end-to-end.
Manfred unlocked the heavy metal door. The door groaned under its own weight, sending a chilling echo down the empty warehouse corridors. The warehouse used to be a large mechanics shop that specialized in manufacturing boats, but they had long gone out of business. He knew there was nobody around, but he still peered over his shoulder as he opened the gate. As he stepped in, he felt the presence of a trapped human. He smiled and shook his head. The runaways never learn. Manfred kept his wife alive by feeding her with human flesh. As her body deteriorated, the demon inside grew stronger. Without the right spells to counter the growth, the demon would consume her like a viscous roundworm.
Setting a trap was barely a challenge, because attracting runaways and drug addicts was easy as long as you spoke their language. There was always food, shelter, and more importantly, drugs that Manfred could offer them. And when you put up a front that was easy for them to buy into, it was an effective trap. The front Manfred set up was that a non-profit organization started by an anonymous millionaire wanted to run a pilot program to help people in need. But once they got into the warehouse, no one would see them again.
He pushed the heavy door behind him, and the metal door groaned as it shuddered with a heavy clank.
“Who’s there? Let me out of here!” a young man’s raspy voice cried out from a dark corner. He tried to get free but an iron clasp around his ankle locked him down close to the ground. He searched for the light with a squinted eye, only seeing the dark silhouette outside the room.
Manfred recognized the voice belonged to the young runaway he met near a bus stop named Nick. To Manfred, Nick was just another weak soul, another easy prey for Meredith. When she was hungry, she made herself known––-she would let out a constant, low growl from upstairs. Her call of pain and anger was chilling, even to Manfred, but he still went into her room to treat her, and to keep her company during her calmer moments. But he would avoid her eyes—they lit up in the dark now. His counterspells grew weaker with every use, and they could no longer subdue the demon inside of her long enough to enjoy a quiet dinner. Getting the blood children to the queen was the only way to treat her now. But he pushed aside those promising thoughts because Meredith needed to eat.
He walked towards a locked room holding Nick. Slowly, he pulled out a large metal key and inserted it into the keyhole. The deadbolt cranked and relinquished its grip; then the door opened with an eerie yawn.
“Who are you? How did I get here? Please let me go. Hey, you! I know you. You were at the bus stop…”
Manfred extracted the long boning knife from his belt sheath and walked in.
He walked into the room, shut the door behind him, and faced the runaway.
“Hey, man, what’s this? You got to get me outta here.”
“Hi, Nick, how are you?” Manfred asked with a monotone.
“Hey––-is that you, dude? You told me there’s shelter here and food. I got here and the door was open. There were people around here, I thought they were like me. People that needed shelter. But where are they now? Help me get out of this trap!” The runaway yelled as loud as he could at the entrance, hoping someone would hear him.
“No one is here to hear you, so save your energy.”
“No, man, they were here. One of them was a girl, and she let me in and gave me food and drink, but––-then I fell asleep.”
“Yes, you were supposed to be still asleep, but somehow you woke up.”
“Wait, what are you doing to me?”
“I’m going to feed you to my wife,” Manfred said matter-of-factly. “Don’t be sad, or afraid, cause there are worse things in life than death. Look at me; I’m but a grit in grindstone, serving my wife and my queen to eternity…”
Nick stared at Manfred, bewildered. He saw Manfred unsheathed a long dagger and came at him in a blur. He managed to utter one single syllable before his vocal cord was cut.
“I––-” Nick’s body crumpled toward the ground, but Manfred cast a spell on the falling body and it stood up before his knees even hit the floor. Manfred unlocked the chains, opened the door for Nick, and he stiffly walked out of the room, heading towards the back of the warehouse on his own.
Against a wall that was seemingly concrete, Manfred called out a spell that rang like a song. The wall’s bottom showed a dug-out the size of a manhole. Manfred jumped into the hole and landed in a cell-like cave.
Nick’s reanimated corpse followed and jumped down. The hole above them sealed up as Nick touched down.
Manfred passed the first chamber that was littered with clothes and personal belongings from strangers. He led Nick over to the next chamber, and it opened up into a larger cavern. There were wooden beams around the chamber that were bolted down to concrete floor and a ceiling. In the middle of the room was a countertop that looked like an operating table. He ordered Nick to lie down on the table and Nick did so like an obedient pet.
Manfred then took out an old leather sack. He carefully emptied the bag into a large glass urn. Inside the urn was a large centipede about ten inches long. It had alternating red and black bands running down its long segmented body. Manfred skillfully grabbed the large centipede by the head. The centipede struggled and flicked its venomous mandibles at Manfred.
“You are one deadly, beautiful creation. Now show me your power and help make Meredith better.” Manfred stuck the centipede’s mandibles into Nick’s arm and let the centipede inject its poison into Nick’s body. Nick did not twitch one bit. Minutes later, the centipede was milked dry. Manfred then put the creature back into his leather pouch. He took out a scalpel from a dish tray and expertly gutted Nick to scoop the internal organs and the brain out. After cleaning out the body, he expertly quartered the body parts and served a portion of remains on an iron plate; the rest went into a freezer. He sampled a slice of the meat and nodded: just the right amount of adrenaline in the meat—it was the way Meredith liked it. He closed his eyes and repeated the spell that the queen had given him earlier, and then he brought it over to Meredith’s cell. The cell’s single ceiling light was off, and the only window was ten feet above the ground, shut with a rusty, iron plate. The iron plate had a
remote leverage arm that Manfred could control from outside the cell. The arrangement was necessary as Meredith didn’t like the light, and it would spoil her mood if she was exposed to sunlight before her meal.
Manfred could hear Meredith inside the cell, shuffling about like a caged beast. She growled as he approached. She recognized Manfred’s scent, and the snarling calmed down.
“Hi, my sweetheart, how are you today? It’s time to eat.” Manfred lowered the dish, opened a small tray window, and slid it in. The tray spun around and landed near the middle of the cell. Manfred could see with his night-sensitive eyes that Meredith was hanging upside down from the ceiling, her eyes flashing red back at him––-Manfred quickly avoided her eyes. There were numerous long tendrils around her mouth that reached down to taste the flesh. Once sure of herself, she slowly slid down from the ceiling, and her shadow covered up the tray.
After she consumed the flesh, Manfred checked his stop watch and saw Meredith slowly transform back into human form. He noted the time in his small notebook and greeted her near the cell door. He laid down some clothes for her. Next to the clothes, there was a large wet towel for her to clean herself up.
Meredith stood naked in front of him looking addled and afraid. When she met his eyes, all of the concerns on her face melted away. She took the wet towel and wiped herself down to remove all of the bloodstains. She couldn’t get all of the stains off, and the crimson clots were smearing down and across her arms.
“It’s okay, my love, you don’t have to do it for me.” Manfred smiled.
She smiled back and nodded, then took the clothes and turned around to put them on.
Once Meredith clothed herself, Manfred unlocked the cell’s iron door.
The outfits Manfred brought were always the same––-a white, thin gauzy silk gown that Meredith loved to wear. It wouldn’t last long on her, as she would later inevitably turn back to her monstrous form. But Manfred wanted her to feel like her old self while they spent the precious time together.
After she finished putting on the gown, she turned to face him with an innocent and exuberant smile. “Hi, Manfred, I missed you!” Meredith muttered shyly.
“Yes! It’s me again,” greeted Manfred with an earnest smile. The heavy door groaned to a shut as Manfred closed it behind him.
Meredith’s face lit up but quickly soured. “Did you find June? I missed her. Where is she?”
“She went to find you a female doctor as you requested.”
“I can tell you are mad at me. Queen is also mad at me for telling June where you hid the Elder box. I’m sorry…”
“Well, Queen forgives you. We found the box, right? She trusts me and she helps me treating you.” Manfred beamed. “I think the medicine is making you better. You can remember things.”
“Yes, I can! When June comes back, we can all go back to our old home, and everything will be great again.” Meredith was smiling. Her innocence brought Manfred to tears.
Meredith’s eyes widened, and then she whispered, “I think you have to lower your voice because the queen can hear us. I don’t think she wants us to leave.”
Manfred felt his heart race as Meredith described her ability. The more the poison affected her, the more she could hear the queen. Soon she may be able to converse with the queen.
“You hear her voice now?”
Meredith nodded lightly. “Yes, sometimes I can hear you two talk. I could hear the conversation even when I was asleep.”
“She’s not listening now; trust me,” assured Manfred.
Manfred knew the blinding spell he learned from June. It was one of the few secrets that June and Manfred shared and kept from the queen.
“Can I see my Baobao? I’m worried about our son. He’s sick and I have to take care of him.”
“Yes, we will––-soon, but first can I offer you a dance?”
Meredith smiled brightly. “About time you asked!”
“Let me play the music.”
Manfred took out a music box and started a song that they were familiar with. As the first note came alive, Manfred’s mind drifted to places where he could hide the keys and the boxes from the queen. It was his insurance that if it ever came to it, he could use it to force the queen to help Meredith, even if it cost him his life.
Oh, my Meredith—
The music was a waltz, Meredith’s favorite. They practiced their steps in unison without saying a word. Meredith was overjoyed but quiet; she was happy as long as she was with Manfred. After about half an hour of dancing, Manfred felt a bit winded. He decided to sit down on the bench but unintentionally fell asleep.
When he woke up, he saw Meredith standing in the corner sobbing, her hands pressed close to her chest.
Manfred was alarmed because when Meredith cried, it could only be for one reason, and that was she remembered some threads of memory about her past. The pain would soon overpower her, and she would degenerate back to her monstrous form. He checked his timer, and it had been only roughly twenty minutes since she had turned into human form. He recalled that the most recent change lasted almost an hour. Something went wrong this time with his spell—it was supposed to keep her in human form longer. Manfred stood up and backed away slowly, trying hard not to disturb Meredith. If he were lucky, he might be able to leave the cell without Meredith knowing he was there.
Meredith’s arms were covered with scales, and her legs segmented into multiple parts—the rest of her body was rapidly degenerating back into a demon. Her body twitched as Manfred slowly walked towards the entrance until his back was against the cold, iron door. He slowly reached his hand behind to search for the door handle. After a few tries, his fingers latched on to the handle. But when the door emitted a loud creak, Meredith turned and stared at him with a flash of anguish and hatred.
“What did you do to my Baobao? Give me back my son!” she screamed as her body turned into a centipede-like creature, then lunged at him with incredible speed.
Manfred back-pedaled out of the door and slammed the iron door behind him. The door banged hard just in time as Meredith’s deformed hands reached out from the small dish window underneath, trying to hook Manfred’s legs. There had been occasions when she was close to catching him, but this time was too close and she caught Manfred by surprise. He had worked on the medicine for months and then he added the queen’s spell today hoping to turn around her illness, but it made it worse after a short-lived metamorphosis. He palmed his face and cried uncontrollably.
“Why didn’t it work?” He sobbed and pounded his fists at the wall. He recalled the queen had already warned Meredith’s condition was terminal, but he didn’t want to accept it. Meredith’s body was already ravaged by cancers before all of this had started, and the spells he had given her kept her alive longer than any modern medicine was able to, but it came at a terrible price.
He knew his time with Meredith was running out, and so was his own life. The only difference between him and Meredith was his sanity. How long could he go on like this? Meredith almost killed him in this visit; next time he may not be so lucky. He wondered if Meredith would grieve for him if she killed him, and he asked himself whether he would grieve for her, when she finally died? Perhaps he would feel relief. How much sacrifice would be enough until you can look after yourself?
Manfred murmured, “Perhaps June was right; I should go with her when the time is right. The queen doesn’t trust June even as a half-breed, then what am I?”
4
Elise
1990, Beacon Hill, WA. They used to be a happy family; the parents were respected professionals with many friends. The father, Philip Wang, was a retired veteran and successful attorney; the mother, Margie Hsu, a family doctor. They had a happy and normal life. But everything changed when Elise turned ten, and her little sister Maria was only three. Over the course of a month, their parents changed into different people. They treated their two daughters with disdain; the laughter and warmth were gone, and the house rules became strict
er. There was no more TV time, and all the girls did after school was homework. They stopped inviting friends over. Elise used to recall her friends would stop by their house, asking about her. Wishing she and her little sister Maria could come out and play, but the answer was always no. Three months later, the parents started homeschool them, and that was the beginning of their nightmares. The girls used to roam all over the house, including the attic, but soon they were only allowed to be in their bedrooms, hallways, and the bathroom. Not even other family members were allowed to visit unless the parents were around. Elise recalled their house used to be filled with music, laughter. Friends would come by and they were always happy. But over the years, their family got into fights with others that Elise could not understand; one by one, their friends stopped visiting them, and then they lost contact with their aunts and uncles. The phone stopped ringing, and the house became silent as death.
When Elise was ten and Maria was three, they found out that they could read each other’s minds. Especially when one of them was under duress. Elise recalled she saw her dad hitting Maria in the next room over when she wet her bed. And when Elise had nightmares, she knew Maria saw it too, because she would be crying next door from her. Their parents never figured it out, but they nonetheless locked the two into their own room.
Elise often heard birds and squirrels chirping outside the windows. She soon learned Maria had a gift with animals; she had an ability to communicate with them. One time a small house mouse came over to Elise's room and gave Elise the key to her room. When she got out, she saw Maria waiting for her outside in the hallway. It was late and their parents had already gone to bed. The two sneaked down into the kitchen and ate dinner––-something their parents often neglected.
The abuse got worse and worse. It went well beyond verbal abuse––-welts and bruises became commonplace. The parents would get into fights among themselves as well; their yelling sessions happened daily, and she could hear the muffled hostility leaking from the bedroom down the hallway, but nothing made sense to her. She later figured out that the sounds she heard were not arguments, they were chants. The chants were foreign to her, and their voices sounded different. This would go on throughout the night.