Shadow of a Doubt

by Hunter Blain

  “Your what?”

  “Long story. I thought that UV lights might do more than just increase my melanin production, if you know what I mean. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Why…”

  “Do I have a tanning membership? Or at least had,” I finished for Locke. “Like I said, long story.”

  We pulled back onto 332, which led to 2004, and drove past farmland before pulling down a road and toward thick trees. The GPS showed we were another four minutes away.

  “What was that place you took us to back at the lair?” I asked.

  “It was a dueling arena I built between planes. I use it to practice my summonings and spells.”

  “Between…planes. Holy shit, dude.”

  “I’m taking my second chance very seriously. Plus, with you and then Depweg gone, I had no choice but to respond and grow stronger. I was dead serious when I said I wasn’t going back to Hell, nor will I let Hell come to Earth.”

  “Welp, glad to have you on our side.” A question popped into my head, and I asked, “Were you always a warlock? You know, even when you were Godwin?” As I said his name, I visibly shuddered, feeling a burst of negative emotions bubble up for a moment like a toilet on the verge of giving up.

  “Technically, yes. But not really.”

  “Alright, not confusing at all.”

  “I had some abilities, but I didn’t know what they were or how to really hone them. After learning vampires were after me, I decided it was past time to learn how to structure my powers. I sought out a teacher and learned all that I could, but it was actually Satan who unlocked my full potential while in Hell. Now we know why,” he said, glancing at me with just his eyes before returning them to the road ahead.

  “Jokes on him, then. But I gotta ask, what’s with the soul stones?”

  “Much like your source of energy is from blood, mine is from souls. Warlocks aren’t exactly holy warriors.”

  “How were you able to use elemental magic?” I asked, remembering the staff he had used in our battle with Oberon. “Come to think of it, how is a paladin able to use elemental magic as well?”

  “Elemental is the most basic form of magic. It flows all around us, and anyone with the ability to feel magic is also able to harness it. Humans do it all the time without realizing it.”

  “How so?” I asked, intrigued.

  “There have been cases where humans have been diagnosed with an incurable illness, only to completely eradicate their sickness with only the use of positive thinking and meditation. I assume that whenever you create a manifestation you visualize the weapon and your body creates it. Am I right?”

  “Pretty much,” I admitted with a shoulder shrug in a gesture that said, “what of it?”

  “They can picture their bodies destroying the tumors or reconnecting nerves or any number of other miracles, as some call them. The truth is they are harnessing the magic that flows around all living creatures on this planet without even realizing it. Just because I am a warlock doesn’t mean I cannot access the energy that flows all around us. The same goes for—what did you mention—a paladin.”

  “How did you access elemental magic while in your arena?” I asked.

  “I had to utilize my staff to use my stored energy and focus it. The gems are like a magnifying glass, with my energy acting as the sun in this scenario. It is necessary to focus.”

  “Can you teach me to magic?” I asked sheepishly, purposely saying it wrong. I honestly didn’t know why I had such a hard time just asking for favors in a straightforward manner.

  “I don’t see why not. You clearly have a grasp on some advanced techniques.”

  “Sweet!” I exclaimed with fists raised in excitement.

  The GPS chimed and we pulled slowly onto a dirt road. The path ran through a wall of trees that swallowed us as we drove into the yawning mouth. The road was bumpy and I had to hold the oh-shit handle to keep from popping up and banging my head on the roof of the car.

  “You could have just put your seat belt on,” Locke suggested as we pulled up to a house with a circular dirt driveway. It looked quaint, reminding me of Depweg’s old cabin. A pang of guilt twanged in my chest as I thought about my friend’s cabin—and Tiny Tim. Sadness threatened to explode in my chest. Like any man would have, I squished down the emotions into a little ball in my gut.

  We stopped in front of the house and I got out of the car. We went to the trunk, which was were the engine was usually located, and each grabbed a flashlight and lantern. A quick test revealed the compact flashlights were, indeed, powerful. I walked toward the front door, hissing propane lantern in hand.

  “Check for traps,” I said over my shoulder to where Locke followed. I let my senses flow around me as Baleius placed one hand on the wheel. My eyes flexed and canines elongated in my mouth as the world sharpened around me.

  The lights were off in the cabin as I stepped to the front door. I heard the dry foliage crack underfoot as Locke made his way around to the back.

  I grabbed the front door handle and tried to turn it. Locked. I placed the tip of my finger at the entrance of the keyhole and willed blood to first flow and then solidify, forming a key. I turned my hand and the tumblers engaged, unlocking the door. I repeated the process on the dead bolt above the handle and opened the door, letting it swing inward slowly with a long, creaking sound.

  When nothing happened, I hesitantly stepped across the threshold. It smelled clean inside, yet a bit musky. I walked down a small hallway and into the living room. On a wall just inside the room, I saw that the AC was set to off. I blew air out of my nose in a semblance of a chuckle; Ludvig had seemed the type to not waste electricity when he wasn’t home.

  I sniffed and noticed the scent of musk had grown stronger. I walked toward the smell, using the aroma as a compass, until I came to a rug in the middle of the living room. I kicked it out of the way and was rewarded with a hidden door that led into the earth below.

  “Here,” I called out loudly to Locke. There was a sizzle and a pop as the back door swung inward. I looked up to see Locke holding a wand similar to the one Ludvig had. The brass door handle smoked from whatever spell or magic Locke had used.

  He walked over to where I stood, and I got a clear look of his weapon. It had ancient-looking runes inscribed down its length that I hadn’t ever seen before. They seemed to pulse with a neon green glow.

  “Are they down there?” Locke asked, breaking me from my inspection of his wand—which didn’t sound like I had intended it to.

  I looked down and sent out my senses. “The door is canceling my abilities.”

  “Mine too,” Locke said in agreement.

  I kneeled and stuck the tip of my finger on the padlock keyhole. As I sent blood in, I recoiled in shock, standing and waving my finger as if burned.

  “Iron. Why the fuck does iron burn when touched but silver doesn’t?”

  “Depends on the iron. If it is blessed, both iron and silver can burn on contact for specific supes.”

  “Of course. He’s a paladin and can bless whatever the feck he wants.” I stuck my finger in my mouth and sucked on the throbbing digit while staring at the door. “Well then,” I said as I bent down, grabbed the handle, and ripped the door off with the protest of grinding metal. I threw the door on the couch and shined my lantern into the darkness below.

  The smell of fresh blood began oozing into the room from the hole. Locke and I looked at each other, and without a word, I jumped into the abyss.

  I landed some twelve feet below the floorboards of the cabin. Pillars of concrete were positioned throughout, offering support where the dirt of the earth would have if not for the hidden basement.

  Holding the lantern above and just behind my head, I began my search. I didn’t need the light to see, but preferred to keep it as a deterrent to any Shadow faeries. Locke came down the steps one at a time behind me, careful not to lose his footing. The unmistakable aroma of blood guided my nose, and within a few long strides,
I came to a wall with a door. Locke came up behind me with hurried steps.

  “Blast it open, now,” I commanded Locke, who didn’t protest. I stepped out of the way and he waved his wand in a rectangle around the door, and the concrete holding the metal began to liquefy. As he focused, I could see the door hinges on the other side of the wall. Once they were completely visible, he let his focus drop, and the concrete ceased melting.

  Handing my lantern to Locke, I willed a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other. I placed the tip of the chisel on the topmost hinge and hammered the rod out with a handful of quick strikes. I repeated the process two more times, returned my blood to me, and pulled the door from the hinge side. It didn’t want to come at first, but then relented by collapsing to the ground with a resounding thud.

  Locke handed my lantern back to me, and I willed a gladius in my free hand as I stepped into what could only be described as a cellblock. There were six rooms with doors made of iron. They stood three deep on each side of the pitch-black hallway. I could taste the blood that was in the air now, making my skin crawl with helpless frustration. I wanted to run to each room and throw the doors open, but I needed to control myself. Blood meant an attack of some form or another, and I could tell there was a lot of it. I approached the first door and noticed there was a latch at eye level. I slid it open to reveal an empty room.

  I checked the cell next to that one, and it was also empty. The third door I came to, I noticed a pool of blood that glinted like a sea of rubies in the light of the propane lantern. A lump leaped from my stomach and lodged itself in my throat as I reached with trembling fingers to grasp the handle of the little window. I started breathing heavily as I braced myself.

  I slammed open the cover and looked inside with the lantern next to my face, the hiss of the propane loud in my ear. I inhaled sharply in dismay as I saw what was in the jail cell.

  Inside was the shredded torso of one of the twins. I couldn’t tell which one it was because the face looked like it had been through a wood chipper. I saw what was left of the tattered workout stringer and deduced it was probably Dawson. Warm blood still oozed from his waist between uncoiled intestines.

  “It’s fresh,” I said as if in a dream before snapping back into reality. “It’s fresh!” I barked at Locke in warning, who immediately took a defensive stance, his clothes growing into the battle robes once again. His wand glowed a fierce hellfire green as he turned to face the way we had come. I put my back up to his, methodically scanning the darkness ahead of me for danger.

  “In here!” a muffled voice cried out from one of the cells on the opposite wall. We sidestepped over to it, and I opened the cover. I was taken aback by how much older Joey had become. He had faint frown lines on his forehead and eyes that no longer held the innocence of youth. His hair was shaggy and greasy, and he had an unkempt beard.

  “John?” Joey called out in as much surprise as relief.

  “Yeah, buddy. It’s me. Where’s Depweg?”

  “I think he’s next to me,” Joey said, pointing to the room closest to the end of the hallway. The door was open. The light from my lantern created shadows that swelled and danced as I approached the open cell. My wide, crimson eyes darted all around, desperate to find my brother. I made a tiny whining sound as I cleared the edge of the door and saw the room was completely empty.

  “Well?” Joey said just above a whisper, sensing the tension and smelling the fresh blood in the air.

  I stepped back to Joey’s cell and said to both him and Locke, “Empty.”

  “Damn it,” I heard Locke bark to himself. Depweg was his friend too. Probably his only friend.

  I regarded Joey’s door and saw there were two locks and a handle. I turned the latches on the locks, grabbed the handle, and pulled the door open. Joey stepped out and looked around the darkness.

  “Where’s Dawson?” Joey worriedly asked, looking between Locke and myself. In that moment, I knew the weight of the words I was about to speak was going to shatter his world and leave him in jagged pieces for the rest of his life.

  “He-he’s…” I tried to say. Joey stood as still as stone, his eyes demanding I finish my sentence. “He’s dead.” Joey rocked back as if I had given him a little shove, his eyes briefly rolling into the back of his head. Joey placed a hand on the stone wall to catch himself and began to breathe heavily. As he breathed, his nostrils flared, and his eyes followed the cause of the scent. Bulging eyes landed on a steaming puddle of blood that led into a cell on the opposite wall of his. He began to hyperventilate then, the cords standing out in his neck with every fierce inhalation.

  He took a step forward with eyes the size of the full moon, prompting me to place a tentative hand on his chest.

  “Please…don’t. You don’t want to see, man. Please,” I said to Joey, my emotions mixing with my words and causing my voice to crack.

  He either didn’t hear me or didn’t care as he continued to walk forward. I let my hand slide off his chest as he stepped past and into the nightmare of the rest of his life.

  I heard his bare foot slap wetly into the pool in front of the cell, and I closed my eyes and shook my head. It was like watching a horrific accident that you were powerless to stop in slow motion. Nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could bargain or trade would stop it from happening. And it was going to be monumentally tragic.

  Joey tried to suck in air at the same time he began screaming, and it came out a garbled waver. My heart dropped as my mind flashed to what Joey was seeing. Dawson’s eyes were still open, glazed and unfocused.

  Joey exhaled everything he had in his lungs before only squeaks came out. Then he sucked in air and began screaming incoherently, a mixture of despair and unimaginable pain that could only be brought to the surface after a lifetime of fear. His worst nightmare had been birthed like an atom bomb on his psyche, tearing his sanity to shreds. His twin brother…his best friend whom he had spent nearly every day with since birth, was dead.

  A guttural chuckle pierced the air between screams, prompting Locke and I to quickly change stance and stand side by side facing the end of the hallway. There was a doorless frame with nothing that we could see beyond. We carefully walked forward as I reached into my pocket and grabbed a handful of glow sticks. I broke them all by bending them against my thigh and began shaking until the familiar green grew into life. I swung my arm in an arc and let the glow sticks fly into the room. Some hit concrete pillars, others bounced off stone walls and clattered to the ground. One flew and then bounced off something I couldn’t see. It landed and rolled a few paces to a lump on the ground. My heart sunk as I realized it was Depweg, hunched over and bleeding from grievous wounds. His blood was black in the green of the glow sticks and flowed with sickening ease from gashes in his torso and arms.

  “Depweg!” I screamed and took a step forward. Two glowing amethysts appeared in the air near the ceiling, followed by the familiar white of a Cheshire grin.

  “Lolth,” I drawled out.

  “You know me, mosquito?” the goddess inquired. Her voice was cavernous while still maintaining some semblance of femininity. It was like a sound engineer had applied autotunes to it.

  “I know enough,” I said, hoisting my lantern to better light the room. Lolth recoiled before pursing her featureless face and sending a puff of air toward us. As if we were simply holding wax candles, the propane lanterns’ light was extinguished in the gust of air, leaving behind a room that was sporadically bathed in the green of the glow sticks.

  “Then you know it is pointless, insect. Oberon has the celestial key and is freeing my children as we speak,” Lolth purred. Instead of reigniting the propane lanterns by clicking the red button on their bases, I decided to opt for the more powerful beam of the flashlight.

  I squared my shoulders while reaching into my coat and said, “I don’t give a shit what he’s doing. You’re both dead, you hear me? I’m going to kill that pixie Oberon, you, and all your shadow bastard
s too.” As I finished, I pulled the military-grade flashlight out of my pocket, pointed at Lolth’s smiling face, and pushed the button.

  The light slammed into the Shadow goddess’ face and immediately began peeling her flesh back like a hurricane tearing down a sand dune. She shrieked so loudly that I could feel my ears beginning to bleed. I was aware of Locke dropping to his knees and cupping his hands over his own ears as she screamed.

  A blur of black fur bolted past me and crashed into the screaming monster’s torso. Even though the ridiculously tall beast was crouching, it still toppled backward as the werewolf attacked her. Snarling jaws ripped at melting flesh, tearing huge chunks out of the shadow. Claws raked in unison like a dog trying to bury its favorite bone in the soft dirt. Black blood splashed the walls with each of Joey’s rage-fueled attacks.

  Lolth regained her senses enough to know how bad the situation was and grabbed Joey’s skull with a hand, tossing him to the side. He landed on the stone wall on all fours and rebounded back toward his target, his eyes glowing the fiercest yellow I had ever seen on a were.

  The Shadow goddess saw the attack coming and rolled behind a pillar, effectively breaking from the line of sight of my flashlight. As she crossed into the shadows, the light no longer impeded her abilities, and she disappeared into the darkness. It was unnerving to see the massive body vanish behind the relatively thin concrete pillar instead of coming out the other side.

  Joey leaped as the last of Lolth’s body disappeared, and passed through the thin air to land on the other side of the pillar. His head shot back and forth in search of his prey. When he couldn’t see it, he brought his nose down to the floor and began pacing around, audibly sniffing as he did.

  Locke cried out as an invisible hand wrapped around his head. I brought the beam of the flashlight around just as Lolth leaped through the ceiling and into the darkness. Locke dropped to the ground, clawing at the helmet that was crushing around his skull like a soda can.

  I scanned the light all around me, trying to anticipate Lo—A hand shot through the darkness at my feet, slamming into my pelvis and slamming me into the ceiling with a crunch.