by Joshua Brown
“I’d advise you against screaming,” Andrew said, showing them the double barrel in his hands. Both Caroline and Spencer stopped, now only cowering. From down the hall, the children were soon to follow in their bellowing before the crew silenced them.
“Wh-who are you?” Spencer asked, making some distance between us and huddling against the wall.
“They call me the Witchfinder General, and I’m here to rid the world of your sin,” I replied.
“On your feet,” Andrew said, gesturing with the barrel of the shotgun that they get up and off the bed. Neither Spencer nor Caroline disobeyed his orders.
“Look, man, you’ve got the wrong people,” Spencer said in protest.
“Our children,” Caroline said, turning to the door. Without a second thought, she started darting towards Andrew but didn’t make it far before he struck her with the butt of his shotgun.
“Your kids are in excellent care,” I said.
Andrew, without needing orders, collected a zip tie from his pocket and bound Caroline’s hands. Then, with a roll of ducktape, he shut her mouth. Blood poured from her nose, and she looked faint, but he pulled Caroline to her feet, propping her up against the wall.
“Why are you doing this?” Spencer shouted, tears streaming down his face. He was a blubbering mess.
“Because you are the spawn of a most vile evil,” I replied.
Andrew approached, tying up Spencer’s hands and shutting his mouth in a similar way to Caroline.
From there, he led them down the staircase, shotgun in hand, ensuring their obedience. By the time we got downstairs, the living room light was on and the children were strapped up all the same as their parents.
“You sure you don’t need us for anything else?” Andrew asked, setting Spencer and Caroline down on the long sofa beside their children.
“No, you can go. It’s best you keep an eye on Jane Dench.”
Andrew and his crew believed I was here for a long-standing debt rather than my true intentions. I didn’t think their attitudes would remain the same regarding the situation if they knew my true intentions. But with the family bound and gagged, I didn’t see a need for them there anyway.
Andrew’s crew would only hinder my rituals, cleansing the world of sin.
I waited for them to leave the house and disembark in their black van before continuing. Once they were gone, I set out to accomplish my goal.
“It’s a tremendous shame and a bout of unluck that we find ourselves in this position, Mr. Crossley. You could not choose the world you were born into, nor could your children.”
Spencer wriggled in his chair, looking over at his wife and children, shaking his head. His eyes pleaded with me, begging for their release. But I couldn’t do that. Unlike my father and those who came before, I wasn’t soft. This line died tonight, never to bear offspring again. The innocence of children only lasted so long, I knew.
And though I may have had to pay the ultimate price for serving their lives up in honor of my God, so be it.
I drew my ceremonial dagger from beneath my robe. It was simple in design yet elegant. The pommel resembled the white ivory mask I wore that evening. Beneath it, a short, glass tube waited empty. Finally, the blade, a thin, a short piece of metal designed to funnel blood from the victim into the glass tube, ensuring a cleansing of the blood.
“I’d hate to have your family watch you suffer, Spencer,” I sighed, taking short steps towards the youngest of his children, Sarah.
I could hear his begging from behind the duct tape covering his mouth. I ignored it.
The girl was screaming, and her panic only intensified as I pulled her out of the chair. I kneeled before her, shaking my head. “There’s no need for tears, child. It’s over now.”
Her parents’ protests came, Caroline dropping out of her chair to beg further. But it was too late. I was on the brink of destroying yet another witch bloodline. And nothing would stop me from completing my task—not now.
I pressed the tip of the blade against Sarah’s neck, and with a single flick, blood started to pour. At first, I held it there, allowing drops to sink into the glass tube before releasing her. She collapsed to the ground.
Spencer, from his position behind, managed to get to his feet and charge at me in this time. With a heavy shoulder, he slammed into me. His lightweight body collapsed atop me, and with every ounce of strength he had left, he forced his head up and down against my own.
I felt blow after blow, which connected to my face, nose, and forehead. I saw stars, felt as though I might pass out, and for a second, had the thrill of my life. How foolish of me not to tie his feet, I thought.
But with control of my hands, I managed to break free from him reasonably easily.
“You think this is a game, do you?” I shouted.
Spencer couldn’t get to his feet with his hands tied, and I delivered three strong kicks to his head and face. Each one harder than the last until he stopped squirming on the ground. Was he dead? I didn’t know. I collected my knife from where it fell not an arm’s length away and wedged it into his chest. He kicked to life once more as the blade delivered the final blow to his heart.
I said nothing else to Caroline and Jackson, ending them the same as Sarah.
Now, it was on to the Dench household.
Chapter 27
Jack
The Salty Oyster was a dump. From the dirty floors that were sticky from booze that sat too long to the crusty people that had mean looks in their eyes. It was a big building with corrugated steel roofing and walls covered in posters and pictures. It stood with two floors, the first being where angry folk would drink their cheap booze and pray for a better tomorrow, while the second had a dance floor.
Tables, overcrowded with bad people, spoke their twisted business of drug trafficking and murder. Guns were drawn at the drop of a hat, and fists were thrown with little provocation. The Salty Oyster was a world of its own, with bad people looking for easy money.
I felt disgusted from the second I set foot in the building, all the way until Aaron and I stepped out.
I was no stranger to seedy bars and devious people. In my youth, I spent a good few years in these places, learning the enemy and how they operated. Coming back to one now, though, made me sick.
With every step I took, I felt like there was a target on my back. That one of these scumballs would recognize me as the cop that put their partner away. The feeling never faded, not for a second. I stayed on high alert, and I could see that Aaron followed the same path. Hands ready to draw our weapons and fight our way out of the front door if the need arose.
That was one thing I could commend Aaron for, at least. He was ready and willing to die for the good fight. Too many people liked the title or held down the role of a police officer, only to cower at the first sign of danger. But Aaron wasn’t a police officer, not by heart.
He was like me in some ways, a vigilante that wanted to see the world turn into a better place. Keeping him behind a desk, for his own safety and my peace of mind, never showed that side. But having him out in the field as a partner taught me to respect the kid.
“Excuse me,” I gestured over to a barwoman, who hurried over to Aaron and me.
“Yes, sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said. “You can see how busy the place is.”
“No bother,” I replied, giving her a smile. I lit a cigarette while speaking with her. “I’ve actually got a few questions I wanted to ask you.”
“Look, sir, I ain’t here to go home with you tonight. I’m just doing my job,” she groaned. There were many drunk and rowdy men here—I wasn’t surprised that she elicited many such reactions.
“I’m not here to take you home. Not that you’re not lovely, but I’m a detective working an active case. I was hoping you’d be able to answer a few questions for me,” I replied. If anything, I had to think the bartenders wouldn’t have any ties with the criminals here.
“Huh,” she nodded her head. “Take
s a lot of balls for a cop to walk into this place.”
“Well, I’m not a cop. I’m a private investigator,” I replied. “Look, I don’t really care what goes on in here or what these fine people are doing. I’m looking for a man… wears a mask most of the time.”
“Lots of people wear masks in here. Keeping their identity hidden is a pretty key part to their… line of work,” she replied.
“It’s ivory, old-looking,” I said. An instant glint in her eye let me know that she knew who I was talking about.
“You talking about that freak that calls himself the Witch Hunter Sergeant or some shit?” she replied.
“That’s the man I’m looking for, yes.”
“Well, yeah, I’ve obviously seen him around. Comes in here looking for guys mostly. They’re usually the big kind or thieving kind. I know a couple of ‘em, but I don’t know nothing about that Witchy guy,” she said.
“Okay, and is he here tonight?”
The barwoman scanned the crowd, looking both up and down the staircase. Shaking her head, I knew it was a dead end.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without that mask on, so I couldn’t tell you if he is or isn’t,” she replied. “I’m sorry I can’t help much.”
“No, no, thank you for your time,” I said.
Aaron and I spent another good few hours in the Salty Oyster. I drank water instead of beer, focusing on the people that entered and exited. There was no point in trying to hide any suspicious activity. If I managed to find him there, everything went back to normal, and I’d have concluded another harrowing case.
But as time went on and the bar started to empty, I knew we were out of luck, and so did Aaron.
“I don’t think he’s coming tonight,” Aaron said, eyeing the crowd around the bar.
“Yup,” I sighed, looking around the room one last time. We were reaching midnight. If we didn’t see him then, I didn’t think the Witchfinder General would appear anytime after.
But I didn’t feel deflated. This was a slow burn, and we’d come back the next night and every night after that until we eventually found him. If this was his hangout, as Granger said, then he’d be here eventually. Of that, I had to be hopeful.
However, I’d soon find out that hope wasn’t enough.
“Let’s get out of here. We can try again tomorrow,” I threw a handful of dollar notes on the table, getting out of my chair. I half expected to be jumped on my way out, but the second we broke the smoke-filled Salty Oyster, drawing fresh air into our lungs, I felt relieved.
New York was a 45-minute drive from the Oyster. We got on the road within seconds, taking the turn on the highway and driving into the night.
“You think he’s ever going to show? He knows who we are, right? What if the Witchfinder’s got tabs on us at all times?” Aaron asked, about halfway back to the city.
The thought never crossed my mind.
“You think he was in there the whole time?” I groaned.
“I do. Thought about it while we were sitting at the bar. He could’ve been there, watching us, and we wouldn’t have ever known,” Aaron sounded despondent. Who could blame him?
“Well, then he knows we’re on his trail, and it’s only a matter of time until we catch him,” I said, feeling a shot of pride burst through my core.
“And what if this is what sets him off?” Aaron replied.
Just as he said those words, my phone began to ring. Through the Bluetooth system installed in my car, I answered it with a click of a button on the steering wheel. A small screen on the center console of the vehicle showed the caller was Gwen Sullivan.
Who would’ve guessed Aaron, indirectly, was the bearer of bad news?
“Jack, you’ve got to get down to Jane’s place. They finally made their move,” I could hear the panic in her voice. The words left her lips at such an incredible pace that I barely managed to catch her say I needed to get to the Dench residence.
“Gwen, breathe,” I said. “Tell me what’s going on?”
“He killed Spencer,” she said. “And I think he’s going after Jane.”
I cussed under my breath, spinning the car around dangerously before flying off in the direction of Jane’s house.
“I’ll meet you there,” I said, cutting the call.
With the way I was driving, I couldn’t have the distraction of a phone call. Even Aaron realized not to bother as I swerved recklessly through what little traffic there was at this time of night. I flicked on the lights in front of my car, turning on a siren I had no business having, and rushed to save Jane Dench.
~
After their hellish night with the gaunt man who killed himself in her home, Jane Dench and her family were told to stay at a motel in the city. The place wasn’t unique in any way, just a place for her to stay safe while the investigation continued. To my understanding, there was a police cruiser outside all through the day and night. The Dench family were given instructions not to leave.
We skidded the parking lot where Jane currently resided, arriving first. Knowing Gwen, she no doubt had police backup on the way. It was eerily quiet in the parking lot, apart from a few vehicles from patrons of the motel. The police cruiser sat at the end of the parking lot, and from my position, I could see two men sitting inside.
A sigh of relief washed over me at the sight of the car. If the Witchfinder managed to get here after his business with Spencer, he wouldn’t be able to get through the cops.
“You think they’re here?” Aaron asked, making the same observation as me. “Or are they going to wait before the next attack?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, getting out of the car. Aaron followed, listening while I spoke. “If I had to hazard a guess, the Witchfinder’s going to try and do everything in his power to stop it before we catch up to him. If he’s not here yet, he’s going to come tonight, and at least we’re here to help out now.”
I took long, hurried steps from my spot towards the police cruiser. It was as good a guess as any to think he’d still come by tonight.
“You think he’d have the balls to come out when he knows there’s police protection on the family?” Aaron questioned.
“I don’t think anything could stop him at this point,” I replied.
We got to the police cruiser, and I walked around. I half hoped the officers might notice me approaching and get out to speak, rather than me having to knock on their window. But something about it felt off as I approached the driver’s side. From the second I saw them, up until now, they were motionless.
I presumed they might’ve taken a nap, but any cop worth their salt would’ve done it in turns. One, then the other, always having a watchful eye on their surroundings.
Tapping the window gave me no reaction either. Drawing my phone, I clicked on the flashlight and shone it onto the officers.
As the light shone over the officers, I saw it. Both of them took a single bullet to the head, and they were sitting still because they’d been shot. The passenger side window was rolled down—no doubt where the bullets came from.
The driver held the radio in his hand, most likely attempting to call for backup as the first bullet was fired. I drew my pistol and ran towards the staircase leading up to the second floor of the motel. Aaron chased behind, not questioning my actions.
A smarter man would’ve waited for backup, but I never claimed to be a smart man.
Running up the staircase, two steps at a time, I made my way over to Jane’s room. Having gotten confirmation on it that morning from the police officers that booked her into the motel, I was ready for whatever waited within.
Aaron and I approached the door, but I could hear the muffled voices from within as we neared.
“That’s all of them, right?” a voice asked. I could hear the muffled screams of Jane and her children.
“It is,” a second voice said. “Thank you for your service, gentlemen. Payment will be processed in the morning.”
I assumed that the sec
ond man speaking was our target, the Witchfinder General. He let out gleeful laughter, maniacal and monstrous. “Oh, how much fun we’re going to have, Marilyn.”
She tried screaming out again through whatever kept her mouth shut. It made me feel sick thinking about what was going to happen to them if I didn’t get in there on time. But I was here now, and that was the first step to getting them out safely.
“Right, we’re out of here before this shit gets too weird,” the first man that spoke said again.
I gestured to Aaron that he pin himself on the other side of the door. My breathing hastened at the sound of the footsteps approaching the door. I tried working out if there were three or four, a big distinction, but with everyone walking at once, all the footsteps blended together.
The Witchfinder didn’t speak, no doubt waiting for his entourage to leave. The doorknob jostled, and as it did, I brought the gun up to my chest. This was it, now. Do or die time. I knew these people didn’t care about killing cops, which made me far more nervous about the outcome.
“That guy’s nuts, man. Why the hell did we even help him out?” a voice asked as the door swung open.
“Sometimes you do what you gotta do to make money, my man. You like that car you drive? That house you live in?”
Before another reply came, I took the corner, gun out, pressing against the lead man’s chest.
“Hands up where I can see them,” I shouted. The man looked me in the eye, nodding his head.
“That’s a bad idea,” he said, lifting his hands, and so did the one behind him.
I pushed into the house, forcing them all backward, deeper into the wide-open living room of the motel. Aaron followed close behind, gun pointed in towards the men all the same.
They all wore the same maroon robe as the man that entered the Dench home. Only, these four didn’t wear the hood over their heads.
And there they were, the Dench family—only the daughter was missing, and so was the Witchfinder General. Jane looked at me, and I could see the fear and panic in her eyes. Her head twisted towards a closed door on one end of the room. I knew that’s where her daughter was taken.