by Mac Flynn
I leaned against the staircase and ran a hand through my hair. My mind had a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of phantoms, Whisperers, and whatever the hell Osman thought I was.
"Mystic. . ." I murmured.
Seriously? A mystic? All I could imagine was me in flowing robes chanting spells and watching as everyone around me stepped in fire traps. I snorted and pushed off the wall.
"Well, Enid, you may as well look around the place," I told myself. "And that means starting in the basement."
I was one of those people who believed you didn't have to keep your word if it was made against your will, and since I sure as hell didn't want to be in the position I was in then that meant everything I'd promised Osman was null and void.
Now that I had made up my mind to be disobedient, I had to figure out how to get into the basement. I crept through the house and looked in every closet, cupboard, nook and cranny for an entrance. All I found was that Osman had some nice tastes in cupboards, closets, nooks and crannies, and a really large library on the occult, paranormal, and some interesting illustrated copies of the Karma Sutra.
Also, he'd lied when he told me the right side of the upper floor wasn't finished. Those bedrooms were as finished as the others. Well, as finished as the ones I could get into. Osman's bedroom and bathroom door were locked tight, and not even a hard pound of my shoulder made the door rattle.
I stepped into the upper hall and rubbed my sore shoulder. My mind went over the possibilities and found only one: the entrance to the basement was outside. In the night. Alone.
I walked downstairs and glanced out the front window in the living room. The neighborhood was dark and quiet. Too dark and quiet. Still, what did I have to-
"Going somewhere?"
I yelped and spun around to find Osman in the doorway to the living room. He leaned against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest and that crooked grin on his face.
"Don't you know how to knock?" I snapped at him.
"I forget the skill when it's my house," he told me as he pushed off from the frame. Osman moved to stand in front of me, and he looked over my shoulder at the front yard. "Thinking about doing more exploring?"
My eyebrows crashed down. "What do you mean more?"
"You searched all the house and stopped at the front window. I assumed cabin fever had set in already and you were thinking about getting some fresh air," he commented.
I backed away from him and looked up at the ceiling corners. "You've got cameras around here, don't you? You've been watching me through some TV, haven't you?" I accused him.
Osman chuckled. "Nothing so mundane." The man reached out for me, but I slipped past him and ended up near the fireplace. He turned to face me. "Hold still and I'll show you how it was done."
I frowned. "You bugged me, didn't you?"
"Not exactly, but I can show you if you'd just hold still," he requested.
I pursed my lips, but held still. Osman stepped in front of me and pulled something from my hair. He moved back and held out a thin, tiny black speck pinched between two fingers.
"This is what helped Cronus and me track you, this night and all of today," he informed me.
Osman held it out to me and dropped it into my open palm. I lifted the speck to my eyes and studied the black thing. It was a thick strand of hair with a black tar-like substance wrapped around it that gave it a sticky exterior. I pinched and rolled it between my fingers and didn't feel a thing. It also stuck really well.
"What the hell is it?" I asked him.
"My hair."
I cringed and pulled my face away. "And how the hell did you track me with this?"
He smiled and tapped the side of his nose. "My super sniffer, remember? It works on more than just phantoms, and to be honest my intention when I planted my hair was to make sure you told me the truth about your relationship with the phantoms."
My eyes widened as a memory popped into my mind. I furrowed my brow and glared at him. "There wasn't any spider! You lied to me!"
He shrugged. "It was a white lie."
"Here's what I think of your lies!" I yelled. I tried to throw down the hair, but it clung to me. Tight. I cringed and flailed my hand, but the goop stuck. "How the hell do you get it off?"
Osman grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes with an amused smile. "Very carefully," he told me. He removed one hand from me and pinched his fingers on the strand, and pulled. The hair slipped off my skin and he pocketed the strange trinket into his overcoat.
I shrugged out of his grasp and turned away to face the window. One of my hands reached up and I cradled my head in my palm. "This is. . .this is just too much. . ." I murmured. I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks and a strangled laugh escaped my lips. "Phantoms, ghosts, weird controllers, mystics."
"And werewolves," he added.
My shoulders drooped and I half-turned to him. His smile was gone and replaced with pursed lips and troubled eyes.
"Seriously?" I asked him.
"Unfortunately, I'm very serious," he told me. Osman ran a hand through his hair and strode towards me. I stiffened, but he stopped short when he plopped himself into his chair. He lit a cigarette and tossed the match into the overstuffed ashtray. "But I'm not telling you this to scare you."
I snorted. "Pity. You're doing a damn good job."
He managed a small, bitter smile. "It's a bunch of stuff to take in at once, I'll admit, but as I see it you've got two choices. Either accept it, or go mad, and I don't think you're the type of girl to go mad. Be mad, maybe, but not go mad."
I frowned at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "How do you know what kind of girl I am?"
Now he showed off that crooked smile. "I followed you all day with Cronus, remember? I got to see a lot of you."
"Should I be flattered that you stalked me?" I quipped.
He shook his head. "No, and I wouldn't be flattered, either, but you've got your choices." He stood and extinguished his barely-used cigarette in the tray. His eyes turned to me. "Which one are you going to take?"
I pursed my lips and dropped my arms to my sides. "I'll take what's behind the front door."
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."
I sighed and gestured to the doorway. "I want you to take me with you tonight."
CHAPTER 11
Osman furrowed his brow. "You want to come with me?" he wondered.
"Why not?" I retorted.
"Because you were just about to have a breakdown here a few seconds ago," he pointed out.
"You watched me all day. You've seen what I put up with," I reminded him. "If I can deal with that day in and day out for two years then I can deal with going with you for one night."
Osman studied my face. "You sure? There could be trouble," he warned me.
I snorted and gestured to the room. "You want me to stay here and get into trouble, or go with you and get into trouble?"
He smiled and jerked his head towards the doorway. "Come on."
Osman led me into the hall and to the front door. He opened it to reveal his red car on the curb with an unhappy Cronus in the front passenger seat. Then again, when was that guy ever happy? Osman opened the rear door and I slipped into the back seat. Cronus half-turned his head to the rear seat and one eye glared at me.
"What is she doing here?" he asked Osman as the detective slipped into the driver's seat.
"She needed some fresh air," Osman replied as he started the car.
We spun out of the parking spot and onto the road. Osman drove like a phantom was behind us as we sped through the back roads like a red blur. The detective glanced over his shoulder at me.
"You ever been to the river?" he asked me.
"Yeah, lots of times," I told him.
He smiled and shook his head. "Not the parks, but the river's edge."
"Like the old river road?" I guessed.
"Yeah, that's the one," he replied.
I shook my head. "It's not exactly
a good place for a midnight jog."
"Or a midday, but that's where we're going," he told me. "There's been some police reports about some strange sightings around there at night, so I thought I'd go sniff it out."
I nodded at Cronus. "And what's he do?"
Osman gave me his crooked grin. "You'll see. Or rather, I hope you don't."
I was a little tense as we passed through the slummy part of town and hit the old industrial zone along the river ten miles north of its mouth. The road was a mud hole with potholes the size of semi trucks. The right side slipped down a steep decline of mud and ran into the meandering river. The left side showed off all the abandoned paper mills and chemical plants that once dumped their garbage into the brown waters. Chain-link fences topped with razor wire surrounded the decayed, multi-floored buildings with their broken glass and graffiti-covered walls.
Osman parked the car in the middle of the dirt road and hopped out. Cronus stepped out and I followed his example. My shoes sank into the muck and slid towards the embankment. I caught the edge of the car and kept myself from slipping down the decline into the brackish water.
"Lovely spots you guys go to," I quipped.
"This is lovely compared to chasing sewer monsters," Osman returned.
"Remind me to stay at home for that one," I replied.
He chuckled. "I'm glad to see you're already feeling yourself at home."
I glared at him and nearly lost my footing in the muck. "Don't get any ideas. I-"
"Quiet," Osman hissed. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air. His eyes had a strange golden hue to them as they flickered to Cronus. "Hags."
Cronus pursed his lips. "How many?"
"Enough."
"Are old women that dangerous?" I whispered.
"Very dangerous when they can tear you to shreds," Osman replied.
"With their scathing remarks?"
"With their teeth."
"Ouch."
"You stay by the car, and whatever you do do not let an old woman near you," Osman instructed me.
My face twisted into disbelief. "Wait, so you're leaving me to guard the car?"
"Unless you want to risk getting into a fight with a monster that can tear your face off," he pointed out.
"Point taken, but don't take all night," I told him.
"We promise to be home soon," Osman teased.
The pair turned away from me and down the road. I leaned against the hood of the car and folded my arms across my chest as I watched them aim for the left side of the road. A group of metal and wooden shacks sat off the road down a short decline. The shacks were wedged between an old chain link fence and the short hill, and were accessed via a muddy path fifty yards from the car. The men slid down the path and made their way to the nearest shack.
Osman raised his hand and knocked on the door made of metal roofing. I heard the rap from where I stood.
That's when I heard the voice.
"Were you wanting something?" a voice barked.
I sprang off the car and spun around. My feet slipped on the mud, but I caught myself on the car. I looked up to find myself face-to-face with a short woman of fifty. Her face was wrinkled and dirty, and she scowled at me from behind a beaked nose. She wore over-sized, patched clothes and her long hair was in a mess of tangles that would've taken garden shears to straighten. There was a dirty recyclable bag in each of her hands that pressed against her hips. Her shoes were covered in mud as was the bottom of her worn jeans.
"Um-" I glanced over my shoulder at the men. They were preoccupied by the open doorway. "I was just-um-just watching the river."
Her eyes narrowed and her jaw jutted out. "Just watching the river? That scum pond?"
I sheepishly grinned and shrugged. "It-um-it looked better a few minutes ago," I assured her.
A strange purplish hue slipped over her eyes and she dropped the bags onto the ground. "You'd better tell me what you're doing here, girl, or you're in for a world of hurt."
I held my hands in front of me and backed up. "I'm just cruising around here with some friends."
My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as the woman stretched her height by two feet. Her hands lengthened into long claws and her baggy clothes whipped around her as a sudden wind came up around us. She snapped her jaws and her sharp teeth gnashed together like metal bars. Her eyes glowed a bright violet purple and a shadow surrounded her body.
"Liars! Intruders! I will have the truth from you!" she shrieked.
"Enid!" I heard Osman shout.
I looked over my shoulder and saw him abandon the shack. An old woman stepped out of the doorway and glared at us. She, too, stretched into a demon-like hag and from her lips came a loud, screeching wail. The doors to the other huts burst open and a half dozen hags flew out. Their baggy clothes fluttered behind them as they rushed Cronus and Osman's back.
Cronus stepped into the center of their warpath and pulled talismans from his coat while Osman raced up the slope and onto the road. I heard a hiss from in front of me and turned in time to see and feel the wizened, clawed hand of the hag rap around my throat. My air supply was cut off as she lifted me a foot off the ground and stuck my face into hers. I gasped and pawed at her hand, but I couldn't pry her strong fingers loose.
"Filthy little human!" she hissed at me. Her breath wreaked like a charnel house. "I will have your soul."
The hag leaned back and opened her mouth wide enough to fit a bowling ball. She breathed in and a golden glow appeared around my body. I felt a wrenching pain inside me as she made good on her promise to take my soul. It was as though she took a large chunk of my skin and tried to peel it from me. I screamed out in pain and fear as my golden glow floated into her mouth.
A large, husky shadow tackled the hag on her side and the pair tumbled away. I dropped to the ground and felt my soul snap back into me. The glow faded but didn't vanish. I grabbed my throat as I choked on sweet air. I raised myself onto my arms and turned around.
My eyes widened when I beheld Osman lift the hag over his head and toss her down the road. The only problem was it wasn't the same Osman as before. Large tufts of thick fur peeked out from beneath his overcoat, and clawed toes poked through his shoes. His face was elongated into a snout, and he curled his lips back in a snarl that revealed two rows of sharp teeth. He flexed his clawed hands by his side and growled at the hag.
The hag landed on her feet and turned to face us. She screeched and rushed Osman, who followed suit. They collided in a mass of claws and gnashing teeth. I struggled to my feet and watched the fight until I felt a wind pass over me from behind. I turned and ducked as a clawed hand tried to decapitate me. The new hag snarled and lunged at me. She grasped my shoulders and threw me on my back onto the ground.
The hag opened her mouth and the glow around me brightened. The intense pain returned as the golden glow of my soul stretched into her mouth. The pain was like a hot branding iron pressed against my entire body. I writhed and screamed, but the hag didn't budge. My body weakened with my soul light and I had trouble keeping my eyes shut.
I clenched my teeth and looked behind me at Osman. He glanced over his shoulder and his golden eyes widened as he beheld my predicament. Osman turned and rushed towards me, but the hag flew onto his back. She buried her teeth into his neck and clawed at his chest. What remained of his shirt was torn to pieces.
Osman howled and reached back to grab her shoulders. He tossed her over his head, and she sailed across the ground and into the hag over me. It was a perfect strike as the pair tumbled down the muddy embankment and made a big splash in the river.
Cronus walked up to the edge of the road and tossed the talismans like daggers. They stabbed into the foreheads of the hags, and the creatures dissolved into dust that floated away on the current.
I tried to sit up, but my arms failed me and I fell back into the mud. Feet pounded the ground and a pair of clawed hands lifted me into strong arms.
"Enid? Come on, Enid, talk to me," Osm
an pleaded in a deep, guttural voice.
My eyes fluttered open and I saw Osman's furry, worried face. Behind him stood Cronus a few feet off with his face especially unhappy.
"What. . .what are you?" I whispered.
Osman sighed and his shoulders relaxed. "Cursed," he answered.
I managed a smile. "Then that makes two of us."
That was all the strength I had left. My head dropped back and I lost consciousness.
CHAPTER 12
The next thing I knew after the hag incident was waking up in my new bedroom at the house with the sun rising outside. I opened my eyes and found Osman seated in a chair beside the bed. He was back to normal, or as normal as he ever was, except for the serious air around him and his lack of an overcoat. His arms were crossed over his chest and his legs were crossed as he leaned back in the chair. He stared unblinkingly at me, and it was for the first time that I noticed his eyes weren't quite right. There was a sharpness to them that bespoke of a predator. I just hoped I wasn't the prey.
"What?" I croaked out.
He sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you come with us."
I snorted. "I kind of wanted it myself," I reminded him.
"Yeah, but you didn't know what you were getting into. I did," he pointed out.
"Listen, don't beat yourself up over this," I insisted.
I shifted beneath the covers and winced when my battered body reminded me I was the one who'd been beaten up. The hags had really pulled my muscles apart with their attempted soul-stealing. I tried to sit up, but all I could manage was to climb higher on the fluffy pillow at my back.
"Besides, it's not me I want to talk about," I added.
He closed his eyes and gave a single nod. "My curse."
"Yeah, that little secret. That's why you were so sure werewolves existed?" I guessed.
"Yes. It wasn't something I meant to show you, but the cards were stacked against us," he revealed.
"So when were you going to tell me?" I asked him.