by Jason DeGray
“How was I supposed to know that being shot only pisses them off? What the hell was wrong with those people anyway?”
“They’re half-lifers. People close to death that made a deal for a few more years of life. Think of them as sentient zombies.”
“Some of them were missing their faces! They make a deal to look like that?”
“Not everyone is meant for the light. You’d be surprised what people will do when they feel the abyss creeping in on them. Half a life is better than eternity in the void.” Jonas looked around nervously. “That repulsion glyph will only hold them for so long. Let’s go.”
Though the half-lifers didn’t attack them or even show themselves again, both men still felt their presence and hateful eyes staring at them from the shadows. Regardless, they walked up to the door unmolested and knocked. There was no answer, though muffled sounds could be heard from inside.
“Faye! Open up! It’s Jonas!”
“Jonas is dead!” screamed a woman’s voice from inside. “Killed by the Lord! Now go away or I’ll bring back my bodyguards!”
“This is stupid,” said Wolf and kicked the door in.
Faye shrieked and started throwing anything she could find at the intruders.
“Faye!” bellowed Jonas after he was hit in the head with an ashtray. “It really is me!”
“Jonas?” The fight gone out of her, Faye deflated. And deflated in more than one way from the look of her. At one time she was a very large and robust woman who flaunted her status with gaudy jewelry and loud clothes. Now, she was shriveled so much that excess skin hung off her in folds. Her jewelry and clothes were gone, replaced with filthy rags and all manner of what appeared to be talismans and amulets. “It really is you, isn’t it? I thought you were dead.” She stroked Jonas’s face with intimate familiarity. “Who is your friend?”
“This is Victor Wolf. Wolf, this is Faye Robinson. She’s the president of the Bank of Central New Mexico.”
“Used to be. That’s all over now.” She eyed Wolf critically. “The intruder,” she said coldly. “I heard you survived.”
“If you call this surviving.”
“I do. You still have your soul, darkened as it may be. What do you want?”
Wolf pulled out his pad and pen. “We need to know the depth of your involvement with the Purple Gates group.”
Faye laughed. “So you thought you’d come find me? And that I would just, what? Tell you my deepest darkest secrets? Like three old women gossiping over afternoon cocktails?”
“That was the plan.” Wolf fished a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Mind if I smoke?” Without waiting for a response he lit one and took a long drag. “You want gossip? I have some gossip. You would not believe the day I’ve had. Earlier, I was attacked by a wax dummy because Jonas couldn’t keep his sticky fingers to himself. Then, not more than fifteen minutes ago, I was almost killed by what are apparently sentient zombies. Can you believe that? Zombies can actually be sentient. Who knew? One of them, a gang banger with a few extra holes in his head, stole my favorite gun. The Desert Eagle my father-in-law got me the year before he died. How’s that for a story? So what’s up with you? Any news to share?”
Faye clicked her tongue, malice and deceit playing openly behind her eyes as she calculated the situation. Finally, she said, “Helluva day. You boys want a drink?”
“Scotch if you have it,” said Wolf.
She returned with three glasses and a bottle. “Was saving this one for a rainy day. And if you boys are here the weather is getting cloudy.” She poured each of them a glass and then lit a cigar before settling into her story.
“Purple Gates didn’t start out as a demonic cult. No, it was much more innocent than that. We started as a group of people studying the works of certain immortal masters and doing a bit of weekend ghost hunting. As we grew, we branched into exorcisms and psychic and spiritual warfare. But we always did our study with God in our hearts and minds. That is, until we came across the grimoire called Power.”
Wolf nodded. “A book about Power. Heard that a few times now. What is it, exactly?”
Jonas interjected, “It’s not a book about power. It is Power. A book that holds incantations and rituals for garnering power and influence from spirits. And those are the mild tricks. It is truly a terrible thing. Some of the tricks in there…” he shuddered and shook his head.
Faye continued, “That’s why we had to keep it to ourselves. To protect it from the likes of that slimy leech, Albert Caine.”
“Wait a second,” Wolf interrupted. “Albert Caine knew you had this book?”
“He did. How he found out, I’m not sure. But he came around asking about it, wanting ‘a peek inside’.”
“What’d you tell him?”
“Told him to go fuck himself. He’s a twisted bastard. Burned us on a few deals for ancient texts. Turned out to be forgeries. But Power was real and we knew exactly what we had. The thing is, none of us were true tricksters, so we couldn’t use the book. That’s when I met Jonas.” She smiled coquettishly at him.
“At the time, I had just got into town. I was looking for social contacts,” Jonas clarified, shooting Wolf a glance that told him to keep his knowledge of Ragnar out of the conversation.
“He snuck into a banquet,” Faye explained. “He charmed his way into a seat at my table and the rest is history.”
“Really?” said Wolf with a wry smile on his face. “Jonas. You dog.”
“I called the Exalted Voice the next day and told him to invite Jonas for a consultation. He was introduced to the others and talk soon moved toward the grimoire. You can imagine our surprise when Jonas proved to be a capable trickster. He assured us the rituals in the book could be performed safely and securely and that we would get everything our hearts desired. After brief deliberation, we decided to hire Jonas as a full-time researcher.”
“Wait,” Wolf poured himself another scotch. “So, you called the Exalted Voice? Does this mean you were one of the Violet Shadows?”
Faye paused before she said, “Yes. I was a Violet Shadow. And we invited Jonas into the innermost circle of practitioners. Those of us dedicated to getting the trick properly. He taught us a lot about the trick over the next couple of years while we prepared for the coming of the Lord. Taught us stuff that no human should know, stuff that darkens your soul beyond reprieve.”
“C’mon, Faye. Be fair. You lot are the one who decided to set out on that dark path. I taught you stuff to keep you alive along the way,” Jonas sneered.
“Let’s get to the point,” Wolf interjected. “Where is the book now?”
“Don’t know. Lost track of it after the incident.”
Wolf wasn’t buying it. “You’re lying. Out with it, Faye. Time for redemption is short. Why are you trying to recreate a ritual that wrecked your lives?”
Faye was truly shocked by the accusation. “We aren’t! The horror and atrocities we witnessed…no…never again.”
“Well, somebody is trying to. Did the other Violet Shadows survive?” asked Wolf.
“There’s no way…” What the Shadows had witnessed on screen from the safety of the Purple Gates Church reading room (thanks to cameras installed around the property as a defense against vandalism) had scared them beyond sanity. If there was even the slightest possibility that it could be repeated, it had to be stopped. “Alright. I’ll tell you what happened,” she sighed in resignation and took a long drink from the bottle, her excess skin trembling with anxiety as she began her telling.
“The victory in the air quickly turned to shit as we watched the demon that was supposed to be under our control brutally massacre our friends and associates. Champagne flutes meant to toast in celebration fell from our numb fingers when the demon briefly turned his terrible gaze on us…” She stared into the middle distance as she recalled those events, her eyes flickering with fear at the phantasmagoria replaying in her mind’s eye. “He actually looked at us.” She was consumed
by the memory, the storytelling itself.
The monitors exploded, shards of glass slicing into the older, sharply dressed gentleman on Faye’s right. And that’s when all hell broke loose. A ferocious wind sprang up and the room started to cave in around them. Debris was caught in a deadly tornado that seemed to intentionally toss chunks of wood, plaster, and stone at the Violet Shadows gathered in the room. Panicked, they climbed over each other trying to get out before they were crushed or pelted with deadly projectiles. Only Faye and one other managed to survive. In their irrational terror, they didn’t stop to get in a car. They ran. They ran and didn’t stop when their flimsy, but expensive shoes gave out on them. They kept going even after they started leaving bloody footprints from their tender soles being shredded on the unforgiving ground. Finally, they collapsed at Faye’s house, only about a mile or so from the church. Faye rang the doorbell repeatedly until a very handsome and well-oiled young man answered the door.
“Snuggle muffin! What happened to you?” He held a Yorkshire Terrier with bows in its hair and several more yapped around his heels licking the face of their prone mistress.
Faye slapped the dogs away irritably. “Not now, Francis,” she snapped. “Help us inside!”
“Of course!” Francis hauled Faye to her feet. “We should call an ambulance.”
“No!” Both survivors screamed in unison. “No ambulances,” finished Faye softly.
Francis thought it was a bit odd, but his mistress’ money was ample enough to buy his unwavering obedience. “I’ll be right back, senator,” he assured the other as he helped Faye inside.
Once inside and bandaged, Faye sat staring at her companion. Neither spoke because there were no words for what they had just witnessed. They thought they saw Jonas still alive moments before the monitors exploded, but neither was sure. Until the Lord of Murder had been banished, their lives and souls were in grave danger. They came to the conclusion simultaneously and murmured it in haunting unison: “Never again…never again.”
“We went into hiding shortly after. We didn’t tell each other where we were going,” Faye said, finishing her story. “I came here. It was private, secluded. And the paperwork was easy enough to get from the bank before I fled. I didn’t even tell Francis. I sent him back to his family in Georgia and I’ve been here ever since.”
“Waiting, watching, and building a small army of half-lifers to delay the inevitable a few moments longer,” Jonas taunted.
“You aren’t helping,” Wolf told him and turned to Faye. “You mentioned one of your fellow Shadows was a senator.”
“I did? Must’ve let that slip…I suppose it doesn’t matter now. His name is Brad Stapleton.”
“Unbelievable. You’re telling me that Brad Stapleton was not only part of a cult, but conspired to raise the Lord of Murder?”
“Yup. That’s what I’m telling you,” said Faye frankly. “Let’s just say he wanted a governorship and hoped to use the Lord to give it to him. Why? You know him?”
“Yeah. We went to college together. He even invited me and Miri up to his cabin a few years ago. He always had a thing for her. Never could get over the fact she chose me.”
“You think he’d go there?” Jonas asked.
“Surely he wouldn’t,” said Faye. “It wouldn’t be safe.”
“Knowing that cocky prick Stapleton, he probably thinks he’s safer in the open,” said Wolf. “Regardless, we should check it out.” He finished his scotch in one gulp and got up to leave. “Thanks for the hospitality. And for the gossip.”
“Tell me something before you boys move along.”
“What?” Jonas asked.
“How’d you find me?”
Jonas looked at Wolf.
“We found your name and address in Albert Caine’s office.”
She nodded stoically. “Well then, I suppose the storm just broke.”
“Take care of yourself, Faye,” Jonas said.
He held out his hand and she pulled him into a hug then unclasped a bracelet and handed it to Jonas. “To remember me by. I’m leaving town tonight. I’m going to get Francis and we’re leaving for somewhere with a beach. I’m glad you came by. You should know I always cared for you, Jonas.” She kissed him on the cheeks and showed her guests to the door.
***
Two hours later, Faye was packing her bags when she heard the half-lifers outside. She peeked out her window, hoping that it was Wolf and Jonas returning for some reason. The color went out of her sagging flesh when she saw Albert Caine with Hugo and Creepy, tearing their way through the half-lifers. She grabbed the bags she could carry and ran for her car.
She was fumbling for the keys when a voice behind her said, “Faye, where are you going in such a hurry?” She stiffened and turned around slowly.
Albert Caine stood behind her flanked by the ever-present Hugo and Creepy. Hugo carried a suitcase.
“Albert Caine.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“You found me.”
“I did. Did you think you could hide forever? Especially using the trick like you have been? Really, Faye? Animating half-lifers? It’s a filthy, debasing trick to begin with, not to mention it’s like sending up astral flares, dear. Did you never learn that?”
Faye silently cursed her stupidity and tried to get control of her voice. “Who are you working for?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.”
“Stapleton?”
Caine laughed a hideous, shrill sound that hurt the ears. “No. Safe to say, your friend Senator Stapleton is on my little collections list too. No, my…employers are far more ethereal-minded.”
“It’s you, isn’t it? You are the one trying to raise the Lord again. Why, Albert? You know what happened. The chance of that being repeated is too great a risk. Please, return Power and stop this madness.”
“Madness?” Albert laughed again. “Disrespecting him, that was madness. Trying to bend a Prince of Hell to your petty wants and animalistic desires, that, dear, is madness.”
“You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”
“Oh yes. And it’s beautiful. What he’s capable of is exactly what I’m looking for. Chaos. Destruction. The sweet silence of nothingness. Now, time to pay for your mistakes, dear. But first, a reunion.” He motioned and Hugo tossed the suitcase at Faye’s feet. The hulking monster unzipped it and stepped back.
Faye choked back a sob. The severed heads of her Yorkies were neatly arranged around the dismembered head of Francis, his glossy eyes frozen with the fear that undoubtedly ruled his final moments.
“We ran into him at the airport. You’ll never guess what the cur was up to. He was leaving town with your dogs! I thought to myself, ‘Faye wouldn’t allow that. She loved those dogs almost as much as she loved her boy toy. It would never do to separate them.’ Good thing I stopped him, too. Do you know what he had in his luggage? Not clothes. Cash. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Naturally, I couldn’t stand idly aside as he robbed you blind and made a fast getaway. I tried to get him to tell me where to find you. You know, to return your money and all, but he insisted to the very end that he had no idea.”
“No. No. No,” Faye cried. “You sick, twisted fuck! He was innocent! We were going to start fresh after all this blew over.”
“You thought it was going to blow over?” Caine shook his head. “Pitiful. You’ve debts to pay.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Yes. But try not to think of it like that. Understand that in the end, sacrifice is inevitable.” He motioned for his inhuman goons to move in. “Oh yes, and one last thing. Francis had a message for you. What was it?” He rhetorically asked the twins who had seized Faye. “Oh yes, I remember. He wanted you to know that he loved you.”
Faye screamed as Hugo and Creepy snapped her neck to paralyze, but not kill her. All the tricks in the world couldn’t save her now. Taking knives, the twins began a horrendous dissection using all the care and skill of brain surgeons,
depositing still-living organs into containers. After they finished their gory work, the ugly twins wiped their bloody hands on Faye’s clothes.
“Nicely done. Now tend to the half-lifers. I’ll see you at the office.” Caine turned on his heel and strode away whistling a tuneless song.
CHAPTER 16
As midnight passed, Wolf and Jonas reached Senator Stapleton’s cabin nestled in the dense forest outside Taos. Every light in the massive cabin blazed, lighting the yard with an eerie glow. Wolf parked up the road and he and Jonas walked to the gate. The front yard alone was half an acre of cleared forest land obsessively landscaped and manicured.
“Wide open yards, so you can see your enemy advancing. Motion detecting floodlights. Bulletproof windows. This place was built to withstand a siege,” said Wolf. “I’m surprised he doesn’t have guards.”
“He does.” Soldiers in full body armor materialized from the tree line. They leveled their weapons on the intruders.
“And we shoot to kill,” finished the commander. “Who are you?”
Wolf and Jonas introduced themselves. The commander nodded and paused for a moment to listen into his headset. “Alright. Come with me.”
They were led to the cabin and told to wait. Inside was just as extravagant as outside. The entire house looked like an unholy mating between Barbie’s dream house and a Lincoln Log cabin. Tacky southwestern art decorated the walls. The wooden floors were covered with large area rugs styled after Native American patterns. Kachina dolls lined the long mantle of the gigantic fireplace in the main room.
“Hideous. Just like I remember it,” muttered Wolf.
Stapleton entered escorted by two guards. Wolf noticed the insignia on their outfits: a trumpet crossed with a flaming sword. He’d seen it before: the insignia of Apocalypse Group International, a freelance mercenary company calling themselves “security specialists”. They took care of whatever filthy and covert black ops the rich and powerful required or governments didn’t want any official record of.