The Curious Case of Jacob's Hallow

by Patrick Walsh

  Both nodded without hesitation and turned to face the mausoleums. If there truly was some horror waiting for them, now was the time for it to act. Two glowing eyes sprung to life as something leapt from the shadows and sprinted towards them. It was taller than a normal human, but significantly shorter than the other guardians. A dark cloak obscured most of its body, with a hood twisted down over its head. The Metal piece that caught their attention was a long shovel with sharpened edges. Aggie reeled back while Aza charged forwards, not even waiting for it to get to them.

  He fired a barrage of threads only to have the creature jump over him and land directly in front of Luke. He had his axes, but the thing was too fast, and slammed him into a gravestone. It whirled around and fixed its white, bulbous eyes on the glass container sticking out from Aza’s pocket. The Puppetmaster swung a tangle of strings in an arc, but once again the fiend jumped up and and out of the way. It came down slashing with the shovel, pure hatred in its eyes. Aza sidestepped and fired out a batch that ripped the shovel out of its grip and sent it flying into the muck. He prepared to attack again, but the creature cast its cloak aside. Within its rotten chest was a blazing fire of blue, framed by stitches and shards of jagged metal. As soon as it caught Aza’s eye, he was entranced by it. He stumbled, blacking in and out as he felt himself drawing closer to it. His body wasn’t, it was falling further away. There were voices in the fire, souls screaming and chanting. They were pulling him in, the yard now illuminated by blue light.

  The monster ticked its head to the side, its metal jaws opening to feast on what would soon be a lifeless corpse. It roared when a woodsman’s axe struck it in the neck, breaking it away from its would be victim. As it turned, Luke swung the other one and caught the other side, severing its head from its body. Now in near darkness again, he jumped back. Suddenly worms began exploding out from the mud. Luke swung his axes wildly as their ravenous mouths lurched for him. Despite the loss of its head, the monster was still very much alive. It ran at Luke, grabbing him by the throat and knocking his weapons away. It held him up, and the farmer was face to face with the blue light, finding himself drawn in. Yet now Aza was back up. He thought to what would happen if they failed this night, to him, his family, to everyone. The fear fired from his body and slammed into the beast. It dropped Luke as orbs of blue light began escaping from its body. Aza ran towards it, two snakes of fiery string cutting down the slithering monsters around them. The monster leapt at him, just as he expected. The twin tangles of thread intersected, stabbing through its gut and pinning it in the air.

  “Keep it there!” Aggie had a round orb of glass in her hand.

  Aza created more and more threads to keep it in the air while it slashed and struggled. The old woman threw the orb and it exploded upon contact with the vile thing, engulfing it in white flame. The puppetmaster shifted all his strength to his threads and began swinging the thing in an arc. Round and round it went, picking up speed the whole way. He released it, and the burning body went flying into the mausoleum it had emerged from, bringing the whole thing down with a satisfying crash. Luke was back up, hacking down the last of the worms, though by now most were broken from the guardian's spell. The three waited briefly to see if it would emerge, instead they saw orbs of blue light erupt from the wreckage and fly out towards the town. Each one a soul returning to its master.

  Luke gripped his throbbing arm. “What was that?”

  Aggie laughed. “That witch ain’t the only one round here that knows a little magic.”

  Aza turned to face the two. “So where are we going?”

  The old woman was about to speak, arm rifling around in her bag, but was abruptly cut off by a familiar voice.

  “Nowhere actually.”

  They all turned to face the fallen gateway. Standing in front of it was none other than Barnabee with a ten or so officers at his side. All had rifles, but several had shovels strapped to their backs. Aza began to produce threads, but the mayor just gave a nasty grin.

  “Stop. None of you will move.”

  His voice echoed over them, pinning the three in place. Aza and Luke were paralyzed while Aggie felt was if she were stuck in syrup or quicksand. Had she been younger and stronger she could have resisted, but tonight she was as trapped as the other two. The officers surrounded them in a wide circle, while their boss slowly strode over to the three. He wore a similar outfit to the one he had back at city hall, only the washed out blues were replaced with sickly greens. In his left hand was a massive, pulsating mass. It looked like a sickening fusion of a squid and toadstools, its tentacles sliding and swinging around as its owner walked. It was a master transponder, capable of contacting all others he had under his control. His other hand was empty but soon found the bottle within his grip. It shattered in his gloved hand, the shards raining down into the mud. He looked it up and down, a piece of parchment older then the village itself yet looked as if it had been written but a day before.

  “Beautiful isn’t it?” He turned around and looked it over.

  “You followed us then?” Aza sighed the words.

  “Yes. A few micro transponders were crawlin around under my desk. It latched to the folds of your boot I believe. Not that I needed it with everyone else I got creeping around.”

  “Of course, because your a coward who makes everyone else do your dirty work. You can’t even use your precious knife anymore.”

  Barnabee just ignored him, turning back to the three. “I thought of a number of ways to get rid of you lot. Have you cut each other to pieces, bury you alive, feed you to any number of things in these rotten woods.” He smiled at the thought of it. “Yet no. I’m in a very good mood right now you see. This little thing has let me get on the right side of a very lopsided bargain, so it will be a simple death by firing squad. Boring, but fast. I have a number of affairs to get too.”

  The three tried to break away, but they were paralyzed.

  “By the way. It was cute, your little brood hiding out with Hesmond, but I already have men there waiting for the order. Same with your rickety little house.” He looked directly to Aza, then nodded to the officers. They began to draw their weapons, ready to fire.

  The three struggled, Aza not even able to draw his strings. Yet just before Barnabee could give the order, a new voice broke through the night.

  “Now what’s goin on here?”

  Barnabee swung around to see the undertaker now standing under the entryway. His right arm held a dim lantern, while the other gripped a wide rifle or musket of some kind. “What are you doing here old man?” There was venom in oozing from his voice.

  “I’d been keen askin you the same thing.” He hobbled forwards, using the gun in place of his cane. Despite the scene before him, he had the same carefree grin he always did. “Because it looks to me like there are three people recovering something that belongs to them, and oh...twelve or so trespassers.”

  “Oh, really now, are we trespassing?”

  Mr. De Vone nodded. “Yep, visitin hours ended a while back. I’m gonna have to ask you and these fine officers of the law to head back to town and try again in the morning. If not, this is private property and I will exercise my rights over it.” He leaned a little harder on his weapon.

  Barnabee’s expression softened and he let out a deep, grimy laugh. “Your arrogance never ceases to annoy me old man.” He pointed to the three captives. “Kill them.”

  His words struck the undertaker, who lifted his arm to point the gun at them. “You want me to shoot these three?”

  “Yes. Do it old man, then turn it on yourself.” Barnabee looked to the three and back, satisfied with this less violent, but even more rewarding plan.

  There was a brief pause as the undertaker shifted around, looking as if he was mulling it over. The old man ended up shrugging. “Nah.” The gun swung up and shot Barnabee straight in the chest, the ammunition causing a small explosion upon contact.

  The officers reared back in complete confusion, at the impos
sible. Barnabee dropped to his knees, gasping for air as blood poured from the wound. The Undertaker just looked to the man unlucky enough to be standing the closest. “I’ll be more direct. Get off my property.”

  They all scattered, running over the fallen fence and back to the murky paths that would lead them to what safety the town might offer. Barnabee on the other hand, stayed where he was as a life of evil seemed to flash before his eyes. His twisted smirk was gone, now remodeled into anguish, pain, sadness, fear as his lifeforce slipped through his fingers and into the arms of this evil land, of the witch. He had ambitions of immortality, of power, of fame, yet here he fell. With the last of his strength, he turned to face Luke, Agnis, and Azriel. They were repulsed as his face morphed into gleeful madness. His arm pulled to his crooked teeth, the twisting creature upon it shifting its tentacles accordingly.

  “Ecc...ecccsss…” He took one last, labored breath. “Execute the order captain…” With that he collapsed into the mud, his spell over the three broken.

  Aza was the first to break free, running over to the fallen monster and pulling the paper from him. He looked back to both Agnis and Luke, then forwards to the Undertaker. “What did he mean? What was the order?” His voice was frantic.

  Luke and the Undertaker shrugged, the former of which spun around and disappeared back into the night, the trespassers having been dealt with.

  “I don’t know lad, but I got a bad feeling.” She pulled a shovel from the ground and stabbed it into the body of the master transponder, killing the thing and cutting off communication between any connected to it. The weapon was left buried in its body as she pulled her own transponder from her bag. “John, this is Agnis. What’s goin on down there?”

  Back in Jacob’s Hallow, a shopkeeper from Dusk Ally stood hidden within the thin crevice between two sets of slanted apartments. He was half a block from Aza’s, where a small group of officers were pulling things from a cart. Yet despite what they were doing, his eyes were drawn up to the sky where a collection of blue orbs were zipping past. For now, the armies of the night were held at bay while the witch waited impatiently for Barnabee to deliver the news of his success. Once the souls reached her, able to tell their tale, there would be nothing to hold back her fury. A new one, freshly drawn from the mayor himself able to fill in the gaps…. and set into motion the end of all things. Yet the shopkeeper knew none of this, just strange lights in the sky. He backed up further into the ally, around twenty minutes had passed since she had last called. Just as he was about to flee, the transponder began flailing about in his hand. Immediately, the two began relaying what was going on.

  “I’m not sure… they’re making things...I don’t know what. It be lookin like they’re done.” He hissed under his breath.

  “I let the lads run ahead to Arkwright’s, they should be ridin into town soon. Don’t ya dar let em outta yer sight; we’ll be there in a few minutes! You better keep me updated, and a lot faster!” Her voice cut off and the tentacles of the transponder settled back into place.

  He slithered back to the front of the alley, only to realize what they had planned. The captain, a weasley faced man, reared back and hurled something at the side of the home. The bottle shattered upon contact, the contents igniting. An explosion of fire snaked up the side while he laughed and ordered another be thrown. More and more flew into the air, setting the humble apartment ablaze.

  Chapter 18: Who We Are

  Gretel had heard the officers gathering outside and rushed to her transponder. She tried to contact mom or one of their allies, but she couldn’t get a call through. The people tinkering and walking about outside likely had a bell fish in one of the barrels to keep her signal blocked. Her only question was why. The door and most of the windows were sealed for the night, with none of the men making any attempt to get in.

  To Gregory’s room she had fled, opening the window to peer down while the old man shifted and turned. He was rambling but slowly coming to his senses. By the time he did the first of the fires had started. Gretel jumped back, and slammed the window closed as if it could somehow keep out the hungry flames. Her mind spun as thoughts bounced and ricocheted around, vying for attention. Were mom, Aza, and Luke ok? Why were the officers doing this and did it mean the others were dead? What was she supposed to do? There was one way out and it was now surrounded by people who wanted them gone. Then there was Gregory. How was she going to move him? None of these questions had time to settle before the first of the flames began seeping in.

  Gregory blinked a few times as he came to his senses one final time. “Aza? Aza is that you?” His old eyes settled and focused, revealing the situation he was in. “Gretel! What’s going on?”

  She spun around. “The mayor must have ordered this place to be burned!” The panicking woman rushed to his side and began trying to figure out a way to move him.

  “Well then get outta here!” He pushed at her with his good arm, wanting nothing else but for her to get to safety.

  “Not without you, ya daft bastard!” She grabbed a knife from the nightstand, used for cutting herbs, and began hacking at the fungus. “I don’t expect ya to be able to walk, but if I can get enough of this off of you…. maybe…”

  “There isn’t any time!” He watched as the fire began to crawl along the ceiling, smoke beginning to swell. The old man grabbed her arm and looked her dead in the eyes. “Damn it Gretel, I need ya to run!”

  “No!” She ripped away from his grasp. “Not this time! I’ll burn before someone else has to for me!” There were tears in her eyes as the faintest of memories crept back.

  The old man closed his eyes and let go. When he opened them back up, he locked gazes with Gretel. “You’re just like your mom ya know that.” His arm crept to the nightstand and began feeling around. “I want ya to tell Aza that I love him, and that he’s made me proud…” He leaned back as he accepted the end. “Never forget the fireflies.”

  She looked back to him, but then jumped as he ripped the lantern from the stand and shattered it against the wall. The fire caught the oil, and then the fungus. It went up faster than anything Gretel had ever seen, and he was lost behind a wall of fire.

  “Damn you, ya old fool!”

  She screamed the words and turned around, reluctantly fleeing from the burning room. As she disappeared from sight, the old man lay in bed. Pain. He should have been in so much pain, but only felt a slight warmth. The fungus that had crippled and cursed him now spared him the pain of death even as it cracked and split apart in the flames. The thing that had bound him here, now unable to escape as the fire consumed them both. He thought back to Eleen, to his wife, to the Nightwatch, and to Aza. All the lives he had touched, mistakes he had made, and hardships he had fought to overcome. It was a life well spent. While he wished he could have done more in the later years, he had hope in his grandson, in Gretel….in all of them. He and his generation had failed to save this town, but he had faith in the new one. It would be Aza to usher in a new era for this bitter place….he knew it deep within his heart. That was a comforting thought as he closed his eyes and faded away.

  Gretel on the other hand had no such luxury. She shot down the stairs, coughing as smoke began seeping in from the walls and filling the room. Her eyes flew in all directions. The door had multiple locks, all made of metal, as well as the windows. She knew all of them would be hot by now, too hot to touch. Even if she could make it outside there was no telling what would happen. Then her eyes fell to the couch. The area around it was burning, except for one spot. It was covered by the blanket she had been using, the one from the box. She ran over and yanked it up, the strange thing feeling cold to the touch. Aggie had told her, or complained, about making these. They were difficult to craft, needing lots of odds and ends from the forest and sea to dip the threads in. Warm in the cold and cold in warmth. She threw it over herself and charged over to the door. The blanket was used as a glove as she pulled the locks still intact and shoved it down. She fell and rolled
away from the fire, landing in a tangled heap within the circle of officers.

  “Gregory?” One shouted in confusion.

  “Who's that?” Another cried as the woman pulled herself up and became fully visible.

  “Gretel.” The captain held out his pistol and grinned. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I’d say the same to you rotten bastards.” She looked from one to the next as they drew their weapons.

  “Whatever plan you lot were up to is over. Barnabee is takin care of Aza and his cronies, an Tagert should be done dealing with the farmer’s kin. It’s over.”

  “What…” Gretel didn’t want to believe it; she couldn’t believe it.

  “Now the mayor wanted them dead but didn’t say anything about you. He looked her up and down. “I’m sure if you... cooperated I could put a good word in.”

  She recoiled at the look on his weasley face. “I’d sooner bed a sea dragon.” She spat the words.

  He shrugged and gave a little bow. “You can’t say I didn’t try.” His eyes flew to the other men. “Now toss her back into the flames before the fire team arrives! You know how squeamish those worms are.”

  Three officers began to approach her, but out of the darkness came a flash of red. It sliced through the back of the northernmost man and nearly severed him in two. Stunned, the others suddenly turned around to see a figure in a grey overcoat and witches hat charging towards them. He leapt into the air and swung his great scythe again, sending out another sliver of red that shot like a bullet into another officer. They began firing on him, but his weapon spun in an arc, a spiral of red burning out the bullets.

  He was upon the group when they pulled their blades, no time left to load another shot. Sword clashed with scythe, the stranger knocking back the two men closest to him. While he fought, one suddenly sprung up to strike him in the back. Gretel shot him in the stomach with the gun of the first fallen officer and he toppled to the ground. Down came two more as the scythe stuck its mark. The man in grey was like a whirl of crimson, taking out the rest of the men in a one sided brawl to the death. Yet a single figure was still standing. In the final breaths of battle, Gretel felt herself grabbed from behind and a gun placed to her head by the last man standing, the Captain. The one who had stayed back while the others fought an impossible battle.