by Jason DeGray
“I’m right here.”
“No. You’re not. It’s not you anymore.” Wolf opened his mouth to protest, but Miriam cut him short. “Don’t you dare mention your scars. It’s not about them. I stood by you for the past six months. I was there for you through stinking bandages and bloody nightmares. I love Victor Wolf no matter what, for better or worse. But you…I used to see the man I loved, the man I married, in your eyes.” She shook her head and toyed with the empty shot glass.
“And now? What do you see?”
Miriam had her answer loaded and shot, “Now there’s nothing. No love. No joy. No Victor. I know you were attacked by a bear and—”
“It wasn’t a bear, goddammit! I told you what it was! It was a demon!” His scars flushed a deep crimson.
“A demon, Victor?! Really?!” she was yelling now. The dam holding back her emotions had burst. “At first I let it go, thinking you survived something that would kill most people. Thinking you’d come back to your senses. But you aren’t doing that! You really expect me to believe that a demon, a fictional creature, clawed you like that? If that’s the case, where’s the body? Where is this demon now?”
Wolf didn’t have an answer.
Miriam took his silence as consent to continue her tirade. “You think that your tragedy is worse than the billions of other people suffering every day? I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit, Vic. You aren’t special. No otherworldly forces are harassing you.” She got up from the table, pacing. “I can’t live like this. I need my husband. If you find him, call me.”
The words cut Wolf deep. He could only stare in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
“I think we need some time apart. I’ve already talked to my mother. I’ll be staying there for a while.”
“Miriam! No!” Wolf finally managed to bellow. He reached toward his wife and the sight of his flushed scars made her recoil.
“Don’t touch me! It’s done, Victor! I’m DONE!” Miriam stormed out the front door, its slam acting as a final foreboding boom.
CHAPTER 4
Returning to work after his tragedy was no easy thing for Wolf. He’d been away almost six months since the accident and his arrival was greeted with an awkward silence. His coworkers couldn’t help but stare as he passed. This once-iconic detective had been torn down before them and when he said hello, it was without life in his voice—as if he was forcing basic social interaction simply to move through a crowd he was no longer part of. The only person who acted genuinely pleased to see him was his partner, Barber.
He beamed when he saw Wolf, “Vic! Good to see you!” He put an affectionate arm around him and steered him away from the gawkers. “Don’t worry about them. They’re assholes. The lieutenant wants to see you.”
Lieutenant Benny Loera and Wolf had a rocky past. Back when he and Wolf were both working homicide, they had butted heads on more than one occasion. Their relationship was completely destroyed when he was chosen for promotion over Wolf. Before the accident, Wolf had spent every day making sure Benny understood how much he hated and resented him—always making comments about how politics got Loera promoted, not actual police work. Benny gave it back just as bad as he got it, only putting up with it because Wolf was such a good detective.
He hadn’t been looking forward to this meeting and to make matters worse, Benny was having a bad day. Since Wolf’s accident, things hadn’t settled down, but flared up. What he was sure would be an end to a bloody string of murders, was instead the beginning. In the past six months, seven more people had been murdered. And this time it wasn’t homeless transients, but university professors, artists, local business owners, and occultists with one thing in common—they were all members of the former Purple Gates Group. Their murders got a lot more attention and as a result, Benny had a lot more pressure on him. He was barely keeping the Feds at bay and he knew if he didn’t produce a suspect before long, his investigation would be hijacked.
Benny was rifling through a file on his desk when Wolf entered. “Victor. Good to see you up and around.”
“Thanks. Good to be that way. And I can’t wait to get back to work, Benny.”
“Yeah. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Great. I’ve been going over what happened a lot the past few months. And what I remember is a lot of black cloaked limbs being tossed around like confetti. What I don’t remember seeing is Jonas ever being part of that body-part collage. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think Jonas died during the attack.”
“Victor…” Benny fortified himself for what was to come. “I’ve been going through your file, reading the psychologist’s notes.”
Wolf didn’t like where this was headed. “Carrie Spangler is the real crazy. She tried to get me to buy the media’s bullshit story about the bear attack.”
“That’s right. Dr. Spangler says you don’t think a bear attacked you. You told her you were attacked by some kind of monster?”
“I’m thinking it was a demon. The Lord of Murder.”
“Right, demon. You can’t see how this is problematic?”
“You don’t think I know how this sounds? I know what I saw, Benny. I wouldn’t be telling you otherwise.”
Benny sighed. “Vic, I can’t have my detectives running around thinking they’re seeing monsters or demons or whatever. The fact is, you have pretty severe post-traumatic stress disorder. I can’t let you work when you’re like this.”
Wolf’s voice gained a dangerous edge. “What are you trying to say?”
“Look, Victor, I hate this, but we’ve decided to put you on permanent leave due to disability. But I called in a few favors for you, got you a full pension.”
One of Wolf’s new scars’ inexplicable qualities was their tendency to flush a deep crimson whenever he was angry or emotional, as they did at that moment. “I don’t want a goddamn pension! I don’t need to retire!”
“I’m sorry, Vic.” Benny, visibly shaken by the change that had come over Victor, got up and stood behind his chair to put some distance between him and his former rival.
“Sorry? You’re sorry? Miriam left me and now you’re telling me my job is gone too? That’s fucked up, Benny! I’ve got nothing left! And all you have is ‘I’m sorry?’”
“I really do hate this, you have to believe me. But my hands are tied. Besides, you’re too close to this. I couldn’t let you work the case even if—”
Wolf bellowed in rage and frustration. All activity stopped and turned toward the lieutenant’s office. Wolf swiped the contents of Benny’s desk onto the floor. “You’re a prick, Benny! You’ve wanted me gone all along!”
Lt. Loera’s jaw clenched his anger. “Vic, that’s not it at all.”
“Bullshit! You want me out! Admit it!”
Benny refused to answer and Wolf charged from his office, slamming the door so hard the glass broke. In the hub, all eyes were on him, yet no one would look him in the eye. A thick silence filled the room. Somebody coughed uncomfortably, breaking the uneasy pause.
“What? What the fuck are you assholes staring at?” Wolf roared, challenging anyone to step to him.
Nobody said a word. They silently went back to their tasks.
“Assholes,” muttered Wolf.
“Hey, Vic. Why don’t you and I go somewhere and get a drink?” Barber offered, coming between him and the uniformed officers who had appeared and started making their way toward Victor, albeit uneasily and without enthusiasm.
“Sounds great. Let’s go,” agreed Wolf. “I know just the place.”
The Atomic Cantina was a dingy bar off of San Mateo and Menaul. Most of the establishment’s customers were regulars and Wolf had joined their ranks in the weeks since Miriam left. He motioned the bartender for two rounds and turned to Barber.
“Did you know this was coming? Be honest, Frank.”
“I didn’t…”
“You’re lying.”
“Well, I didn’t k
now they were gonna fire you. I swear. I thought you were gonna get put on desk duty or something.”
“That fucking prick Loera.”
“I think it came from higher up than Benny. And Spangler’s report probably didn’t help.”
“I never liked that woman.”
“Yeah. She’s a real piece of work,” agreed Barber.
“Loera and Spangler and God knows who else out to get me. I was set up. It’s the Lord of Murder! It has to be.”
“Yeah see, that’s the other thing. You keep talking like that. The demon thing is a little much, Vic. You should tone it down.”
“Tone it down?” Victor yelled, “I can’t tone it down, it’s the damn truth! You were there, Frank. You saw the thing. And you’re gonna tell me that was a bear? A fucking bear?”
Barber didn’t answer. He sipped his drink and absently stared at the baseball game on the television.
“You told them it was a bear…Frank, why would you do that?” His scars flushed.
Barber instinctively shrunk back from Wolf’s raging scars. “I don’t know what it was, Vic. I don’t know what I saw. I really can’t remember and when I try…” He shook his head, finished his drink, and ordered another. “So yeah. It’s a bear. Because believing that lets me sleep at night.”
Wolf stared at Barber for a long time. He was unable to accept the betrayal of a man who had watched his back for the past ten years. A man whom he considered loyal and trustworthy. The Lord of Murder’s influence stretched everywhere. Nobody was safe. Wolf understood then what he had to do.
“Alright, Frank. Thanks for the drinks. I’ll see you when I see you.” He finished his drink in a gulp then walked out of the bar and into the shadows.
CHAPTER 5
It wasn’t that Miriam didn’t love Wolf, because she did. She loved him more than life itself even through the stress his job put on their lives. But that thing that shared their house after the attack wasn’t her husband. The scarring was horrendous enough, but she could learn to look past it. However, what she saw—or didn’t see—in his eyes terrified her. There used to be a sparkle in them that defied all the horrors he bore witness to as a violent crimes investigator. But whoever he used to be was dead and Miriam wept deeply for her loss. She could live with his scarred body, but not with his poisoned soul. Some things are too much for the human spirit to bear. Besides, the stress of it all wasn’t good for the pregnancy. She needed to—no, she had to get away. Physically and emotionally.
Leaving wasn’t an easy decision and she stayed until he’d recovered enough to take care of himself. Her escape had been meticulously planned for weeks. Her mother, Elaine, welcomed her with a sympathetic embrace and the soothing supplications that only mothers are capable of. Miriam lost all composure as she hugged her mother and sobbed into her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Momma.”
“Shhhh, baby. It’s alright. You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Now, come inside. I have your room ready.”
Over the next few weeks, Miriam immensely enjoyed the comfort that comes from being home. Her mother pampered her and by degrees, she began to return to her old self.
“Why don’t you come to church with me?” her mother asked one Saturday night. “I think it’d do you some good to get out and be around positive people.”
“I think you’re right, Momma. I’ll go.”
“Good,” said her mother with a satisfied smile. “It’s settled. We’ll go tomorrow.”
Grace Pentecostal Church was a megachurch in an era of megachurches. It was truly a sight to behold. A veritable Temple of Mammon under the guise of Christianity. The church’s many wealthy members lavished money on their Sunday playground. It sported an up-to-date sanctuary complete with surround sound, big TV screens, and a live band.
The pastor, William Blake, was a charismatic young man fresh out of seminary. He had recently taken the pulpit after the death of the previous pastor, Jamie Martinez. In the tradition of megachurches, Pastor Blake’s sermons were more closely related to motivational speeches than to religious diatribe. It was religion-lite, nothing too deep or soul stirring, just a bunch of inspirational words that left one thinking, Yeah, I’m doing just fine. And in an increasingly secular world, people were drawn to such soulless pheasant-posturing. So the church’s numbers grew and its pews were filled along with its bank account.
Wolf and Miriam had attended Grace once before with Elaine and he had stomped out five minutes into the pastor’s sermon, fuming angrily and swearing under his breath. Sitting in church again, listening to the same droll, Miriam couldn’t help but agree with her estranged husband on this point. She likened it to a stage production complete with lighting, sound, and solicitations for emotional outpouring.
She scanned the congregation, noticing the bored looks on most of their faces and her gaze stuck on the handsome choir director sitting in his place behind the pulpit, waiting to be called to service. He smiled coyly at her throughout the sermon and approached her afterward.
“Hi. I’m Sven,” he said in a melodic voice that carried the faintest hint of a European accent.
“Sven?” she giggled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Miriam.”
“Nice to meet you too. So are you new to the church?”
“I’ve been here once or twice with my mother, Elaine.”
Sven nodded. “I know Elaine. Good woman. So where’s your husband?”
Miriam blushed. “What? How did—”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice your ring and, well, your delicate condition. No offense.”
“None taken.” She sighed and something compelled her to open up to this handsome, disarming man. “We are…taking some time apart to think about things.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Not enough marriages last these days.”
“Well, it’s not over yet. Like I said, we need time to figure things out.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but you’re in what? Your third trimester?”
Miriam nodded.
“That’s not exactly the best time to be ‘figuring things out’. You need support now more than ever. When did he leave?”
“He didn’t. I did. Something happened that…changed him.”
Sven shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry for your pain. Truly. Here,” he produced a business card from his bible. “I’m on the church counseling team. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“Thank you, Sven. I appreciate it. It was nice to meet you.” Miriam shook his hand and went to find her mother.
“Mrs. Wolf?” said a voice in the throng of exiting church goers.
Miriam looked around for the speaker and finally settled on Carrie Spangler. “Carrie?”
“Yes! So good to see you! How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t know you were a member here.”
“I’m not. My mom is. We didn’t get to church much. Vic always said that all churches wanted from you were your soul and your money.”
Spangler laughed. “How is Victor?”
Miriam grimly related the past month to her.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I tried to go by the other day and check in on him, but no one was home.”
“Really? That’s strange. He hasn’t left the house in weeks. Maybe he’s with Frank?”
Spangler shook her head. “Detective Barber hasn’t seen him since the incident at the office.”
“Incident?”
Spangler chose her words carefully. “We had to put him on permanent leave. He wasn’t well, Miriam. His PTSD was severe and he had signs of other serious mental illness. I had to recommend disability leave. And let’s just say he wasn’t very happy about that.”
“Wait. You fired him?”
“Not fired. Put on leave.”
The semantics annoyed Miriam to no end. “Leave, fired. Whatever. You took his job.”
“We didn’t want to, but it was necessary.”
“Necessary? How? You couldn’t have
put him behind a desk or something? Given him something to do? Victor was right about you, Spangler. You’re a bitch. I just wish I would’ve seen it earlier.” That turned some heads. Miriam glared defiantly at her would-be chastisers. “What? You have something to say? No? Then turn the other cheek and walk away.”
“Mrs. Wolf, I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t care what you meant. The truth is you’re a liar. Anything that comes out of your mouth is psychobabble bullshit. Excuse me. I have to go find my husband.”
***
It looked like Spangler was right. No one was home nor had been in nearly a month by the looks of the half-eaten and rotting fast food piled on the dining room table.
“Victor? Victor, are you home? It’s me, baby. It’s Miriam.”
Silence, thick and musky, answered her.
“I’ll check the living room,” said Elaine.
Miriam checked the garage: Victor’s 1970 black Dodge Challenger was still parked, the keys hanging on the nail by the door. Next, she wandered upstairs. The beds were made, his clothes were folded and undisturbed, even his toiletries remained. For all intents and purposes, he’d simply vanished.
“Miriam?” her mother called from downstairs. “Your liquor cabinet is empty.”
Miriam went downstairs. As her mother said, the liquor cabinet had been emptied of everything but the brandy. Wolf always hated it and refused to drink even a tiny drop.
“What do you think?” asked Elaine.
“I don’t know.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “What’s going on, Momma?”
“I don’t know, sweetie,” Elaine tried to reassure her daughter. “But everything will be okay. Victor is a strong man. He’ll turn up.”
Miriam wanted to believe her mother. She really did. But belief and reality were two separate things. She knew this all too well.
CHAPTER 6
Wolf didn’t know how long he’d been wandering the streets. All he knew was that he had to put as much distance as he could between himself and everyone he loved. The Lord of Murder was after him and Wolf knew he wouldn’t stop at killing innocent people, so he had to disappear.