Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary
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The mayor smiled like a madman. Many thought he had indeed become one.
“Do you really want us to believe—?”
Mr. Witherington realized how foolish he sounded and held up his hands. He leaned away from the microphone to call the four young heroes on stage, smiling proudly at his daughter among them. He also called Loch onstage, who came grudgingly, and more to smack the mayor up the head than support his public appearance.
Many nudged each other when Loch got up to the stage. They had only caught glimpses before, but everyone knew this was the dark stranger, sometimes rumored to live up in Hunter’s Key. He was a suspicious figure among their little community.
Loch resisted his temptation to slap some sense into the mayor for blowing centuries’ worth of secrets right out of the water. Instead, he leaned forward, whispering in the mayor’s ear.
“This is not the way we do things.”
Mr. Witherington pulled back to stare Loch in the eyes. “Please. They deserve to know. You can’t expect the people who were in that—that other world—to keep your secrets forever.”
“Hmph.”
Loch turned around, glaring at the crowd. He didn’t like crowds; they scared him and gave him stage fright, though he would never admit it.
“My name is Loch,” he said simply. “I’m not going to give you a big fancy explanation. It’s my job to make sure you never find out about monsters and the worlds they live in. But this is a rare, and to be honest very fortunate occasion. Very few people survive this type of, um, abduction. Monsters that kidnap usually have the intention of eating you alive and leaving nothing behind. It’s a long story, but this monster needed these people alive. So…right. We saved them, and here they are, alive and mostly well. Mayor Witherington speaks the truth.”
Loch nodded to himself, mumbling and shuffling his feet. He found Mr. Witherington and yanked the man back in front of the crowd.
The townspeople grumbled unconvinced. Many were worried the town had more than a crazy mayor to deal with now. Loch was good at keeping secrets, but it seemed he wasn’t very good at revealing them.
“I can’t ask you to believe so easily,” continued the mayor. “But it happened. And these wonderful young people standing behind me saved them, with the help of, uh, Fish McCollum and Wardley Dink.”
He gestured to the four teens. They smiled and waved uncomfortably, finding their respective parents in the throng of people. It was harder for Lisa.
The crowd still wasn’t fully convinced, wondering what exactly their mayor was keeping from them. But then Dräng walked forward, jumping down from Nash’s backpack. He did it of his own accord, understanding very clearly what was going on and that he was revealing himself to a crowd of humans. He simply wanted to help the fledglings who had not only saved him from the Dark Prince, but who had become his friends, despite the fact that he was a monster.
People gasped. Parents grabbed their children, turning them away from what could become a month’s worth of nightmares. A few women screamed.
The mayor faltered, still a little nervous around Dräng himself.
Charlie stepped protectively next to Dräng.
“This is Dräng,” he squeaked.
He cleared his throat before trying again, addressing the crowd with more authority.
“This is Dräng. He’s a friend of ours. He helped us. If it hadn’t been for Dräng, we would not have found anyone who’d gone missing. And none of us would have made it out alive without him.”
Finally, Charlie saw his mom and dad. Mrs. Sullivan looked terrified, but Mr. Sullivan had already accepted the whole spiel about monsters. It probably had something to do with being an author.
He smiled at his son and gave a thumbs-up. Charlie grinned back.
“I want to thank you all personally,” Mr. Witherington said to the disheveled band, loud enough for everyone to hear. “You’re heroes. And you—Dräng, was it? I hereby declare you, with the powers invested in me, an honorary resident of Hunter’s Grove and a member of our community.”
Dräng grinned, shaking the mayor’s shivering hand. Still confused, but convinced enough by a real monster, the entire town applauded.
They weren’t just clapping for the four youths, either. They clapped for them, of course—the new Monster Hunters of Hunter’s Grove—but also for Fish and Dink, who had been recognized as village idiots and outcasts until now.
Charlie allowed himself enough relief to sidle next to Loch. “Have they lost their heads yet?” he asked the old Hunter, amused.
Loch grunted. Underneath the grouchy exterior, he was glad to be proved wrong, for once. He was glad this town didn’t have to live under the weight of such a dark secret.
While the townspeople still applauded, Darcy nudged her father’s elbow, suddenly somber. There was one thing that still needed to be said. Mr. Witherington nodded sadly.
He cleared his throat, gesturing for the crowd to quiet down.
“This is a wonderful day for us. I…I never thought I’d see my wife again, or any of those lost to us. This morning I woke up and my daughter was gone, too, and, well, I was afraid that Darcy was gone forever. It’s a miracle she came back, that any of you came back. But there were two that did not come back. You all know Mrs. McBranson. Unfortunately, she did not survive the harsh environment.”
Charlie patted Nash on the shoulder. Out in the crowd, Nash’s parents caught Nash’s attention. Chinook nodded softly, mouthing, I am proud of you.
“Also,” Mr. Witherington said to the crowd, “there was a boy who lost his life during the rescue. His name is Liev Vadiknov.
Somewhere in the crowd, Mr. and Mrs. Vadiknov wept. They had been told beforehand, out of respect and courtesy, but hearing it again didn’t help. Lisa jumped down the steps two at a time, stumbling to her parents.
“He fought to the end for what he believed was right. It isn’t fair that he’s not with us,” said Mr. Witherington. “We’ll remember him, always. Tonight, we celebrate the return of our friends and family to Hunter’s Grove, and the life and courage of Liev Vadiknov.”
Mr. Witherington led the crowd inside, where the feast had been hastily prepared by the town’s baker, the deli, and three caterers.
That night, the mayor had Hunter’s Grove hung with strings of white lights. Bright white, in honor of Liev. The strings of lights—as well as street lights and all the lights on buildings—were to be left on all day, every day, for an entire week. Hunter’s Grove shone like a diamond from the moment the sun began to set.
Mayor Witherington declared a new holiday to be marked on the town calendar each year. The lights are to be lit on this date, remembering when five youths put aside their differences to fight a murderous prince, and to remember the sacrifices paid for doing the right thing.
Epilogue: Remembrance
Lisa slipped out the back door. Her parents had already returned home, leaving the celebration early to mourn their son, but Lisa couldn’t bear to go home without Liev.
Wandering, she found herself plodding uphill to Sanctuary Gardens, known for its panorama of Hunter’s Point and the town below, and more so for its breathtaking view of the sunset. The man who owned the gardens kept it as a hobby, carefully choosing flowers through spring and summer, and keeping the place tidy during fall and winter. It was open to the public, used by anyone who needed to wander off and take some quiet time to themselves.
Tonight, Lisa was one of those people. The further away from the celebration she climbed, the more weary she grew of having to hold it all in. She didn’t know how long she could live like this—without Liev.
She felt empty, broken. Her twin, her best friend, was dead.
She worked her way through the gardens to the center, where there were stone benches. She sat, and finally let it all out, not holding a tear back. She asked herself if there was anything different she could have done, anything at all so that Liev would s
till be with us. Anything she could do.
Every second of their experience in the Otherworld replayed in her mind as she searched for clues, chances, comfort. None of them were to be found.
Except….
While they were battling the varcolac, there was a white flash through the dark energy bands of her gift. That only happened when she and Liev used their gift together. That was the only time after he fell to the wolf it had happened. Every other time, her gift was black, dark—empty.
But then, perhaps the glimmer of white had been from Nash’s gift. They had all been using their gifts at once. Liev had not been there to help them.
The weight pushed her down. Her brother and friend was gone, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Lisa folded her knees under her chin, wrapping her arms around her legs, and started sobbing again. Her sleeves were soaked from the tears. She peeked up over her elbows to the setting sun, blurred by the salt and water mixture in her eyes and realized this would be her first sunset without her brother.
“I miss you so much, Liev. Goodbye, brother. I love you.”
Her tears became too thick to see through, and so she lowered her face once again.
Lisa heard a rustling on the stone-pebble path behind her. She quickly wiped her face on her sleeves, taking a deep, steadying breath. She looked over her shoulder to see who was approaching. No one.
Slowly she stood up, turning, and allowed her senses to adjust to the failing light. She was about to call out when an impish little thing stepped out from behind a rose-covered lattice.
“Dräng! What are you doing here?”
“Please, if I may, sad human. I have come to be friend. I mean no harm.”
“I know you mean no harm. How did you find me?”
“I followed you. I, too, once lost my family. To the Dark Prince, I lost them. And I thought, well, perhaps….”
“Thank you, Dräng. It’s good to know you care. I’m…sorry about your family.”
“I am sad. But I am here and hear the future calling. Mayhap we can answer it together.”
Lisa smiled and nodded silently. She bent down to hug her little domovoi friend.
“For now, sad human, there is another family waiting for you.”
Dräng smiled, pointing over his shoulder.
“Alright, I’m coming. And stop calling me sad human. It makes me sound pathetic.”
“Forgiveness, please. Now come and see.”
Lisa took a moment to dry her eyes again before following. Dräng looked back from time to time as they trod through the gardens, making sure Lisa was still there. They approached the edge of Sanctuary Gardens, where the hill descended. At the bottom of the hill stood Charlie, Nash, Darcy, Fish, and Dink. They were there to let her know she wasn’t completely alone.
Dräng hopped in a circle until he sat in the middle, looking back at Lisa. He cocked his head just slightly, like a puppy, and grinned at her. She was certain that if he were a puppy, he would be wagging his tail.
“Let’s go,” insisted Charlie. “We all need a good night’s rest.”
“Definitely sleeping in tomorrow,” said Nash.
“Forget that,” said Dink. “I am going fishin’! Have you seen this weather?” He looked up and all around him with his arms spread open wide. “You ain’t keeping me indoors tomorrow, no sir hunky-dory!”
They all laughed at Dink’s weather forecast, turning back toward Hunter’s Grove.
Except for Lisa. She still wondered, and had to see for herself.
She let them move on a few steps ahead and quietly turned around to face the sun, which was now only a sliver above the distant landscape. As quiet and controlled as she could manage, Lisa used her gift to throw out one small thread of energy.
She gasped. It was there. A glimmer of white in her black cord.
Her mind raced, and hope consumed her.
Still walking toward the Town Hall, Charlie’s eyes turned the slightest shade of red, and he smiled.
Across an ocean, a howl raced up through the night sky, mingling with a full moon’s light. A score of crimson, hungry eyes seethed in the dark, and an old terror took a small village by the neck for the first time in two centuries.
A letter was hastily scribed and sent off with a horseback messenger. They were taking a risk, but what else did they have?
A message had been sent to the Monster Hunters of Hunter’s Grove.
Look for Charlie and his friends in their next adventure…
Fall 2012
Prologue: Hunter and Prey
The fire seemed to dim just a little.
A girl with light hair glared at Jonathan Kelly. “We aren’t supposed to talk about that, Jonathan.”
“Come on, Aisling. You afraid your grandmam is going to appear out of nowhere and tell us to mind our own?”
“No. I’ll do it for her. Mind your own. We don’t talk about…that place.”
Jonathan grinned at her daringly. “You’re not afraid of your grandmam…it’s her you’re afraid of, ain’t it? Drakauragh’s witch mistress. The Sagemistress.”
“Don’t speak her name!” Aisling warned.
“When did you get to be such a scaredy cat?” asked Eldin.
“I’ve been to Drakauragh, and I know what’s happening there now. It’s nothing to speak lightly of.”
“There just ghost stories, Aisling.”
“No. No, this one’s different.”
Jonathan sat back on his log, crossing his arms in a superior fashion. “Come on. It’s not like she’ll sick any of her werewolves on us or anything.”
The words had just barely left his mouth when the group around the campfire heard something that made their hair stand on end. It was a mournful sound. One that was both agonized and enraged. It was the howl of a wolf, but a howl like no other they had heard. Deep and angry, it sounded like the question of an extraordinarily intelligent being.
As if that weren’t enough, the answering howl, maybe just half a mile away from them, was purely terrifying. It was a long howl, lasting for several seconds, and followed by two nearly identical sounds.
In fear, the entire group rushed into their tents, while Eldin doused the fire. Aisling peered through her tent’s plastic door for a moment, trying to hear where the sounds came from. She knew the wolves were supposed to be farther north. What were they doing so close to her grandmother’s mansion?
Two white eyes peering at her from the trees made her gasp and fall back into the tent. She threw her sleeping bag over her for that false sense of security, praying whatever those white eyes belonged to didn’t have interest in her.
Far off in the trees, Aisling and the others could hear what sounded like a hellish chase crashing through her grandmother’s acreage.
Tonight might not have been the best night for telling ghost stories, after all.
The messenger gritted his teeth as he rode over the rolling hills of sharp rock and green grass. His heart echoing like the frantic hoof beats of his horse, he steered the beast wildly, dodging trees that appeared like violent specters—or the wolves—from the swirling mist. He heard the alpha wolf’s initial howl, and the scout wolf’s hunting answer, which was too close for his comfort. Having ridden all the way from Drakauragh, his thighs were slightly more than loose blistered flesh and his body ached as if he himself were being trampled under hoof. He knew not whether it was the threat of the wolf pack pursuing him or the importance of his message that drove him through the pain. He simply knew that he had to keep riding, until he made his way to what Nathan had called the airport…somewhere in the county of Sligo. And after that? Somewhere in America, called Hunter’s Grove….
A new succession of howls grated against the messenger’s ears, filling him with anxiety. A tree branch gashed his forehead and cheek open, and he cried out in pain. The messenger leaned forward and dug his heels into the horse’s sides.
He had a message to del
iver.
The scout howled a question over a distance of miles, to where the Alpha Wolf stood perched on the crest of a hill, his crimson eyes open, but not seeing.
Should I pursue the prey? the smaller wolf was asking.
The Alpha took no time to consider. The horseman had to be stopped. He sent a gruff but long howl of confirmation, followed by a short bark of sorts.
Do it. I will be there soon.
The Alpha Wolf had faith in his pack. But he wanted to make sure the human was stopped. He knew exactly what the messenger’s intentions were, and he had not so quickly forgotten the five human fledglings which this messenger sought. It was the Alpha’s intention that the rider would not live to see the night through.
Behind him, his pack tensed and coiled their muscles, eager to hunt, to chase, to kill. He stood up with a low, cautioning growl, warning them not to get in his way. Then the Alpha dug his claws into the rock, and propelled himself forward with powerful muscles. He flew off the side of the hill and landed somewhere in the dip of the valley below.
He hit the ground running.
Acknowledgements
My bride and best friend, Holly. You continue to inspire me and encourage me to pursue and live my dreams, come what may. We live and dream and pursue together. I love you. Nathaniel, my son. As you grow, I pray you enjoy this story as much as your brother and I have enjoyed writing it. Your imagination keeps me young. Much of my inspiration comes from watching and listening to you “play” out your dreams. Keep fighting! I love you. Matt Smith, my friend and dear brother. You have gone beyond the call of duty here, and your passion and creativity cause me to ask continually, “How am I worthy to know this man?” I cherish your friendship above all. Chuck and Carolyn Bloom. Your support and constant encouragement through the years have been lifelines. Unyielding in tireless support and service to my family. Thank you dearly. Joe Manlunas. Sometimes you simply smiled and wondered what I was thinking, but you always encouraged and kept pushing forward. Thank you. Mark, Gingi, Bill, Melanie, Noel. You didn’t have to believe, but you did. You could have doubted (and would have been justified in doing so), but you didn’t. Thank you for cheering us on along the way. My nephews and niece. Christopher, Nicolas, James, Eva, Luke. I love each of you immensely. May the stories of your lives shine as brightly as the smiles on your beautiful faces. I dream of children like you laughing, cheering, and gasping with awe when reading this or any other story. May your lives be enriched by the Storyteller!