The Ruined Man

by Jason DeGray

  “Want to leave?” he asked coyly.

  “I’m not quite ready to go home. I’m having a good time.”

  “Who said anything about taking you home? Why don’t we go to my place? I’ll boil some chamomile tea and we’ll watch a movie.”

  Miriam was no fool. She knew the dangerous implications of late night tea and a movie. Such flimsy ploys threw her back to her college days. But she wasn’t in college anymore. She was married still, whether she liked it or not, and she was nine months pregnant on top of that. No, she was no longer that horny and impulsive girl of her youth. She knew the game and that knowledge would serve as her armor. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

  ***

  “Just make yourself at home,” Sven called from the kitchen. “I’ll be right out!”

  Miriam eased into the couch and looked around, absently rubbing her belly. Sven’s house wasn’t large, but it was crammed full of decorative artifacts from a menagerie of cultures. For someone who claimed heavy involvement in modern Christianity, Sven had a collection of some rather un-Christian artifacts.

  “Fascinating, aren’t they?” Sven appeared in the doorway with a tea set. He sat it down on the coffee table.

  “Yes. Where did you get them?”

  “Most of them were my father’s. He was a seeker, delving into the dark unknown of truth, no matter how abysmal the waters.”

  Miriam giggled. “You’re weird.”

  “No argument there.”

  She picked up a shrunken head sealed in glass sitting on the coffee table. “Doesn’t this stuff go against what your church believes? I mean, some of those things look pretty Satanic. If my mom saw any of this she would freak.”

  He poured the tea and sat in a recliner next to the couch. “Some of it does have a colorful history, I admit. But the evil in an object doesn’t lie with the object itself, but with the intent of the person using it.”

  “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people,” Miriam said, breaking it into easier terms.

  “Right. To me, these are remnants of my father. The last connection I have with him. I don’t think there is evil in that.”

  “Neither do I,” Miriam agreed and took a sip of tea.

  Halfway through the movie, some piece of shit pompous Christian production about dealing with suffering (which Miriam thought Sven chose on purpose), her back started aching. Sven looked over and noticed her discomfort.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. This couch is just doing a number on my back.”

  “Really? My mom was a massage therapist. That’s the other family business I inherited. I could help ease some of the tension.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Relax, it’s completely professional. I even have a table.” He smiled and the twinkle in his eye caught Miriam’s breath.

  She blurted out, “Well, okay,” before she knew what she’d said.

  Sven led her into the dining room where a massage table decorated with strange arcane symbols stood in lieu of a dining table. “My mother’s,” he explained as he caressed it lovingly. “Lay on your side, close your eyes, and breathe.”

  He had an expert touch, one that soothed as well as excited. He massaged her for a good half hour sending her into a deep trance before he began stroking her back with electric fingers. He traced lines and circles down her back and murmured softly.

  Desire set a fire in Miriam’s loins that spread throughout her body. She was quickly and helplessly lost in an ecstasy of tingling nerves and golden light. Her armor melted away with her resolve.

  “What are you doing?” she moaned weakly and tried to get up.

  He gently pressed her back down. “Relax. It’s okay. How are you feeling?” Sven whispered into her ears. She felt his hot breath on her neck and then his lips, kissing her tenderly.

  She moaned and turned to draw him into a kiss.

  The experience seemed surreal to Miriam. Outside herself, she watched as Sven had his way with her. The lines that Sven traced had formed into a definite symbol pulsing with energy. As Sven entered her, she saw another energy-charged symbol rise from him and mingle with the one on her back. Her body screamed with pleasure as light flared from the joining.

  Sven looked at her, not at her body, but her ethereal form floating above, and said, “Two become one. It is finished.” Then, howling like an animal, he came. As he did, the golden symbols darkened to a deep crimson and took on the shape of a nightmarish creature—a man with the head of a hideous dog and large, feathery wings. It leered and reached toward her with clawed hands. Miriam screamed.

  She awoke on the couch bathed in the sickly blue glow of the TV, Sven softly snoring in the recliner beside her. She couldn’t help but be skeeved out by the sight of him. She wasn’t sure if they had actually had sex or if it was just an extremely vivid dream. But it didn’t matter, it seemed real. Recalling the experience not only abhorred her, but it reminded her of Victor for some reason. Tears stung her eyes and she choked back a sob as guilt set in. As much hell as her husband had put her through, he’d never betrayed her, never quit loving her. She saw that love reflecting in his cold blue eyes even as he pushed her away. Even as she left him and his eyes filled with heartache instead.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and tasted salty tears on her lips. She quietly gathered her things and snuck out of the house, Sven never stirring.

  CHAPTER 20

  Caine left his office with Barber following close behind. The detective expected his quarry to return home, but this wasn’t the case. Caine drove to the Northeast Heights to a house that Barber knew to be Carrie Spangler’s. Caine parked up the block and entered through the back door.

  Barber, parked across the street, put on the headphones to his listening device and switched it on. Caine’s voice entered in mid conversation.

  “Everything is in place. The pretty boy came through, if you can actually believe it. She’s being picked up as we speak, then we’re heading to the ranch for the final ritual.”

  “Why Porcelain picked Sol Ranch, I’ll never understand. Encino, of all places!” Spangler said. She sounded irritated and upset.

  “You know why. It’s the best place. There’ll be no interruptions, so no chance of repeating a massacre. Here are the directions. Put them somewhere safe.”

  “Any news on our prodigal son?”

  “Wolf? No. No sign of him since we ran into each other at the senator’s cabin. Though since we’ve decided to take the child, his being captured alive is no longer a priority. Have you seen anything through the eye?”

  Wolf is alive, Barber thought excitedly.

  “No. Nothing clear since Stapleton’s, which is why I’m worried,” said Spangler. “He and Jonas are dangerous loose ends.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re desperate by now. I’ve maneuvered them into a corner and broke their castle. Let them plot and scheme their next move. They’ll be dead before it’s time for the final trick. I’m off to pick up the offerings. See you tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah. See you there.”

  “Oh, one last thing,” said Caine. “One of your boys came to see me.”

  “Who?”

  “A Detective Barber.”

  Spangler’s voice soured. “Wolf’s old partner. What did he want with you?”

  “Info about the Purple Gates group. And, interestingly enough, he wanted to know the possibility of summoning a demon.”

  “Getting a bit too curious for his own good. I’ll have to talk to him. Stapleton was always worried he’d end up a liability after what happened. I thought I could keep him under wraps. What did you tell him?”

  “What do you think? I didn’t tell him a goddamn thing. Though, I’m fairly certain he’s been trying to follow me for the past two days.”

  “He could be on to us by now! Loera put him on the new Purple Gates murders even after I advised against it. And once Frank Barber sinks his teeth into a case, he doesn’t let up. That’s what he and W
olf had in common, what made them such a great team.”

  “I’m not overly worried. I still had a few trinkets that Wolf and Jonas didn’t steal. I’m fairly certain I’ve been able to move around without his knowledge. As far as he knows, I haven’t left my office. I’ll see you later.” The door opened and closed.

  Barber removed the headset just as his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Frank? It’s Carrie Spangler.”

  “Oh, hey doc. What can I do for you?”

  “I was just wondering how your Purple Gates case was going.”

  “Fine, fine. I’ve got some really solid leads. Why are you asking?”

  Spangler ignored the question. “Is that so? Did you get any of these leads from your conversation with Albert Caine?”

  “How did you know I talked to Albert Caine?”

  “The department has been…keeping an eye on you since the incident with Wolf.”

  “Keeping an eye on me?”

  “Yes. We’re concerned about you, Detective Barber. We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” snapped Barber.

  “Are you sure about that? Inquiring about summoning demons? That’s the kind of talk that got Wolf put on leave. I’d hate to lose two great detectives. Understand?”

  “Yeah, I get it. Quit snooping on me.”

  “From now on, stick to the basics, detective. If you have any questions about demons and such ask me. I’ll find you an answer. Goodbye.”

  Barber slammed his hand into the steering wheel with a sincere curse. He had to do something now or more people were going to die. He was almost certain Spangler would lead him where he needed to go. She was up to her eyes in this shit pile. He called his wife again and quickly went to get a coffee. He was in for another stakeout.

  Spangler went to work the following morning, which was convenient for Barber in the end. He was on high alert and hoped to enlist the help of Benny Loera.

  The lieutenant scowled at Barber as he entered. “My god, Frank. You look and smell like a rest stop toilet. You better have some leads. Ten of those fruity cultists have ended up on a slab gutted of most of their internal organs. Ten. That’s pretty much the rest of the group. Thank God Senator Stapleton had the decency to go out in a blaze of glory. That little tragedy bought us a few more weeks before the Feds swoop in. You know how they get when they sniff a serial killer. Like flies to shit.”

  “I know, which is why I’m here. I’ve got something.” Barber relayed what he’d discovered the past few days from his encounter with Caine to Spangler’s conversation with him about Sol Ranch. “I think Albert Caine is responsible for the murders. I think he’s been offing these Purple Gates cultists and collecting their organs for a new ritual to take place at Sol Ranch. We haven’t got a lot of time here, Benny.”

  Loera was quiet for a while before he said, “Frank, how long have we known each other?”

  “What’s it been? Ten years?”

  Benny nodded. “’Bout right. It’s only because we’ve known each other so long that I’m offering you this courtesy.”

  “What do you mean ‘courtesy’?”

  “I already talked to Dr. Spangler this morning. She told me you called her last night making wild accusations and sounding crazy. She thinks you’re starting to crack like Wolf did.”

  “What?” Barber couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d been played. “That’s not true! She’s—“

  Lt. Loera held up his hand and cut Barber short. “I don’t want to hear it. I understand the pressure of this case. You and Victor were right in the thick of things the first time around. I knew putting you on the case again was risky, but I did it anyway. It was my mistake. I admit it and I’m paying for it now. But I respect you too much to let you fuck up your life.”

  “I’m telling the truth!” Barber pleaded.

  “No. You’re telling your truth which is beginning to sound a lot like Wolf’s truth. Staking out a geriatric ghost expert? Asking about summoning demons? Spying on the department shrink? Seriously, Frank? This is all heavy shit. And no real evidence. What are you thinking?”

  Barber smoldered, standing rigid and silent.

  “Take a couple of days. Clear your head. Go home to Gerry. Take a shower, for God’s sake. When you get back, you can start fresh on a new case.”

  “Benny, you gotta listen to me—“

  “That’s all, Detective Barber.” Barber left in a huff and Benny tried to get back to work. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Two of his best detectives had succumbed to the weirdness surrounding the Purple Gates murders. Wolf and Barber were both solid, grounded men. They wouldn’t make up schizoid stories just to close a case. The more he thought about it, the more Spangler was lit in a sinister light.

  She was the first person to talk to Barber after the incident. Loera had gotten a cryptic phone call from Senator Stapleton that night telling him to sequester Barber until Spangler had a chance to talk to him. At first, Loera thought it nothing more than a government official wanting to make sure a delicate situation was explained smoothly. Now he realized that Stapleton had called moments after Benny himself got the news. The time frame was all wrong, which gave Benny the impression Stapleton was closer to the situation than he let on. The lieutenant would’ve called him up then if the senator’s cabin hadn’t burned to ash a few days before. That lead was literally dead. Interestingly, the news of the senator’s demise had come from none other than Carrie Spangler several hours before it made the news.

  Spangler also interviewed Wolf and deemed him unfit for active duty. It was largely on her recommendation that Wolf, his best detective, had been put out to pasture. She even tried to get Barber taken off the case, but Loera wouldn’t hear it. He trusted Barber’s insights and his unique ability to sniff out a lead. Then Barber came to him with allegations against Spangler that the psychologist had already discussed with Loera before work that morning. Damage control, thought Benny. It’s just too convenient. He picked up the phone. “Get me the state police, Torrance County.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Spangler’s introduction to the occult had come, as Ragnar predicted, during her graduate work. She participated in séances, rituals, and sacrifices. None of her experiences produced any outright results, but unbeknownst to her, they opened doorways that attracted dark forces. Despite this, she never found any real evidence of magic. The “magicians” she’d interviewed had all been fakes (men and women who based their beliefs off of movies, books, and even video games and music), or notoriously tight-lipped. The rest of her interviewees were delusional and incapable of getting the trick outside of their own rich fantasy lives. She wrote as much in her dissertation and thought that was the end of it. But it’s easier to open a door than it is to close one. And evil had infested Spangler like a cancer. It directed every aspect of her life, preparing her for some final role in a future that was still occluded.

  After grad school, she immediately got a job with the Albuquerque Police Department and then her marriage suddenly fell apart. Adam Spangler had been a loyal and loving spouse for nine years. Then, in one day, three different affairs came to light. Carrie was crushed. One she could forgive. Two they could work through with a few years of therapy. But three…that was simply too much for her heart to accept. She fell into a deep depression and remained there until she met Albert Caine. In her depression, she had been drawn back into the shadowy world of the occult. One of these excursions led her to Madame Tower’s bookstore where Albert Caine gave a free lecture on the use of talismans in ritual magic.

  Spangler was inexplicably drawn to him. It was as if something outside of herself was pushing her toward Caine. He seemed to be a never-ending well of popular occult knowledge. She admired his intellect and became convinced he knew more than he was admitting. He’d played dumb at first, of course, but after she seduced him, his tongue loosened and spilled his secrets. Sex can open so many doors.

 
“Magic has always been a part of humanity,” he said. “Mastering it is our destiny as a species. But it’s not what you think. It’s not all spells and hexes. It’s about the mastery of will. Crowley said it best, ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.’ Magic is about using your willpower to shape the world around you. A true magician knows the physical world isn’t a hindrance, but a tool. Thus, all forces, both physical and spiritual, are at his command and aid in fulfilling his will.”

  “Prove it,” said Spangler.

  “Alright. This’ll get you wet.” Caine crawled out of bed and stood beside it. He opened his left hand, traced three lines and muttered a smooth and flowing word. Water gushed from his open palm like a tiny geyser, drenching the bed and Spangler in it. She gasped in wonder.

  “I can show you so much more,” said Caine and closed his hand into a fist, effectively staunching the flow. “But for you to get what you want, I have to get what I want.”

  “What do you want?”

  “A book in the possession of the Purple Gates group. A book with no title, just a name: Power. Bring it to me.”

  “How?”

  “Join the group. They’re a fairly open and trusting lot of fools. They’ll take you for sure.”

  “Then why don’t you join?”

  “I tried,” he said with a scowl. “Apparently, my reputation precedes me. But you…you’d be perfect. Join the group, wait till nobody is looking and snatch the book. It’s as simple as that.”

  She joined the Purple Gates group the next day. At first, she was astonished at the membership. Government officials mingled with prominent businessmen, religious leaders, artists, and academics. Every last one of them was obsessed with lifting the veil between worlds. She felt as if she found her tribe. Eventually, through seduction and bribery, she penetrated the innermost circle and found what she was looking for. Magic. Real magic performed by a charismatic and eclectic man who called himself Jonas the Unrepentant. Unlike the pretenders she’d encountered, Jonas talked freely about getting the trick and preached openly from the very book that Caine sought: the book known only as Power. But such discoveries didn’t come without their price.