by J. Z. Foster
“I can do the knife trick again, see if I can track him down that way. Get a lock on him?”
“No, I think it’s best if you get into the library and check the local papers for odd occurrences and whatnot. Get that news crew to help you. I want to have a general idea of how long the bastard’s been there and what kind of things it’s been doing. Can you get your team looking for anything out of the ordinary?”
“Yeah, but the library is closed, right? It’ll be closed tomorrow too I think, since it’s Sunday.”
“Richard, we’re hunting a warlock that may possibly be hundreds of years old. It could be a necromancer bringing the dead back to life, or it could be a vampire that’s left a trail of half-drained bodies around, or it could be any number of other horrible things that hide out in the dark, waiting to snatch our last breath. We have its name, and now we need to know what it is. You’ll manage with a locked library, won’t you?”
“Yeah, of course. Of course.” A nervous laughed gurgled out of Richard’s throat. “I just meant, in theory we’d be locked out of the library. Not that it’d give us much trouble to break in and check the records for local deformed babies or anything.”
“It’s important, Richard. If we don’t know what we’re dealing with, we won’t know how to fight it. Find us something. This is who you are, Richard. You’re a slayer. You’re a witch hunter, you’re a killer, you’re the light in a world of dark. Be brave. We don’t fear the dark, the dark fears us. Bring the fire. It’s time to show the world you’re worth a damn. I’m out now.” He hung up. Richard nodded, despite the fact that The Kord certainly couldn’t know if Richard was nodding or not.
Damn, that guy is intense. That was a whole string of badass one-liners.
He glanced at Ted and Beth, who were still filming. Richard cleared his throat. “I guess I’ll have to employ my skills in murder and hunting.”
I’m overdoing it, aren’t I? I think I’m overdoing it.
“We’ll draw the fiend in and cut that bastard to the bone.”
That last line was definitely overdoing it.
He hung up the phone and turned to the others. He marched through the rain to the overhang with Beth and Ted; he stood just outside, still in the rain. “The Kord said we need to get more information on our warlock, the type of witch he is, and then we’ll hunt him. We need to know what weaknesses and strengths he has. The only way to do that is to try and find out how he’s been affecting this town.” He stopped to wipe the rain from his face with the tail of his shirt. “We’re going to break into the library, check the local papers, and hope that the law doesn’t show up.”
Beth stepped out, holding a hand over her eyes to block the rain. “Richard, we’re with you. We’re going to do this together,” she promised, and Richard believed her.
She means it. She’s here to bring this thing down.
“Yeah, we’ll do it together.” He scowled and turned back to the van. “Let’s roll.”
“The chips!” The wight yelled from the car. “You have forgotten your promise of a bounty of chips!”
Chapter 10
“So we wrung the wight for all he was worth, which was little, honestly. He said he was more a servant and ‘did not hold confidences with the warlock.’ Seriously, the guy knew way less about his master than what you’d think. The wight said that he usually just ‘slumbers in eternal ennui,’” Richard scoffed. “Where the hell does this guy even hear words like that?”
“Yeah, sure. Sounds like you boys were having a helluva time. But the library?” Minges said, clearly trying to refocus Richard. “The hell’s in the library that’d help ya’ll out?”
“Dude, tons of stuff, lots of historical newspapers and whatnot. This is a pretty old town, few hundred years old. Who knows what clues a warlock might leave behind?”
“What clues indeed. So we’re going to have to see to those charges of breaking and entering too, then.” He wheezed and coughed up a chunky piece of brown phlegm into his palm. He inspected it before again wiping it under the table. “Damn son, why’s it boys like you always waking me up in the middle of the night? Can’t you all go and get caught at a decent hour? These midnight runs, they run a mess on an aging man’s stomach.” He rubbed his belly before reaching into his jacket. “Better take a shot of some of the medicine I do approve of.” With a wink, he took out a metal flask, unscrewed the top, and took a swig.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be doing that right now.” Richard clenched his lips.
“Nonsense! Shot of the good stuff’ll keep you going, so long as you pace yourself.” Minges nodded. “Now you called this man, what’s his name? Kord? The Kord? We going to find that old boy out there smashing heads too?” He offered Richard a shot.
Richard winced and waved it off. “I don’t know. I don’t know where The Kord is. We’re a few hours out; maybe he’s still on his way?”
Minges nodded. “Look son, I think our best game here is to roll one over on ol’ Kord. He’s the one filling that head of yours with all that demon-worship and those blood orgies, right? Sounds like a ripe sumbitch.”
“That’s, uh—”
Minges picked up again. “What we’re going to do is give everything to the police, son. Let’s not dig this hole any deeper; let’s start clawing our way outta this pit. How’s that sound, old boy?” Richard was about to speak but Minges cut in. “ ’Course, if you choose to ignore what I say and your blood orgy buddies skip town, Sheriff’s gonna be looking at your lumpy ass twice as sideways if he don’t have no one else to pin this nice little case all up on. Why you being so damn quiet all of a sudden, anyways?”
Richard took a moment to see whether he was finally allowed to speak. “I wasn’t! You won’t let me say anything!”
“Exactly.” Minges gave a hardy laugh and another wink to Richard. “You got yourself into this mess, but it’s up to ole Jeff Minges to get your ass outta it, right? What we need here is a one-way street on the understanding. Get me, son?”
Richard shook his head, “It’s not that easy! It’s real, it’s all real! I can’t just… I can’t just let it all go…”
“ ’Course, son, ‘course it’s all real. You’re going to keep spewing that all the way up until that judge’s hammer hits the block. Let’s show ‘em how much of a crazy sumbitch you are.”
Richard let his head rest in his hands. “Gavel.”
“What’s that there boy?” Minges raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a gavel, not a hammer.”
Minges laughed. “Boy, are we gonna start arguing semantics? We gonna build this case by making sure we got all our commas in the right place?” He rolled his eyes. “When the hell did a comma ever do anyone any good?” Richard hung his head and exhaled loudly. Minges tilted his head back and prompted Richard to speak again. “Well, what’d ya’ll do in the library? Find anything interesting? Break anything expensive?”
“Just did some research. I’ve used the newspaper scrollers before. Microfilm readers.”
“And where’d it lead you, son? Might as well keep this downward spiral goin’!” He slapped the table and guffawed. “All this talk of wights and ghosts is pretty interesting anyways. I’m a bit of a Potter fan myself.”
“Yeah, it’s still a little rough in my head. I think getting inside the library was the easiest part, though. The wight said he could just rip the front doors off and kill any ‘constables’ that showed up or something. Took us a bit to explain to him that not eating people also meant he couldn’t kill any humans, even the ones that annoyed him. I think we got to him, I really think we got to him, though. Dude isn’t such a bad guy, really, just confused. I mean you wouldn’t get mad at a lion that ate someone right? You might shoot it, but that’s just its nature, right? So long as we gave him chips, he was cool. He explained to us that he’s basically just starving all the time.”
Minges tapped his watch and motioned for Richard to hurry up. “Yeah, I got it. You’ve got a pet poodle, he’s gnarl
y as hell, and he’s traveling with you. Back to how you got in.”
“Well, like I said, that was the easy part. Beth said she was a realtor before and knew how to pick a lock.” Richard squinted his eyes. “Not really sure how that relates. Seemed to make sense at the time though.”
Minges nodded and drew a circle in the air with his finger, motioning for Richard to hurry up and start again.
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, we found a side door that was locked. Beth got through it pretty easily.”
“So why people?” Ted asked, shining the light of his camera on the wight. The wight was standing, stretched fully out, in front of the library’s brick wall.
“Man?” the wight responded. Its tattered clothes were barely hanging on, and it brought a finger up to its chin as if considering. “Have you ever consumed the succulent flesh of man?” it responded earnestly.
Ted’s impromptu interview continued as Beth knelt to work on the lock. She pulled the picks out of a small case and leaned forward, Richard could tell she knew what she was doing.
“No, I haven’t.” Ted kept the camera light on the creature. “But why? What is it about being a wight that makes you want to eat people and not animals?”
The wight’s glassy black eyes, with their strange, green shine reflected some of the camera’s light. “My being lives in eternal damnation, a struggle against hunger for the flesh and the taste of fear and woe. We are by nature the enemy of man. There is no greater thing in life than to see your enemies crushed and driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their—”
Richard burst into laughter. “The lamentations of their women? Dude, you’re totally ripping Conan off.” Richard continued to laugh as the camera light moved to illuminate him.
“Conan?” the wight said curiously. Ted panned between Richard and the wight.
“Pfft, don’t act like you don’t know Conan. You’re totally ripping it off.” The wight gave him a blank stare. “Ripping off? Copying? No?” The wight still didn’t seem to understand. “You’re imitating Conan.”
“I imitate no man,” the wight said angrily. “Clearly this man of Conan has dealt with wights before, and now…” The wight hesitated as Richard stifled a laugh. “Where is this man of Conan located? I will feast upon the flesh of him and his children for such an insult!”
“No way man, no way.” Richard shook his head. “No one can take Conan, no one. He was always cutting the heads off snakemen.”
“What would I have to be impressed by such a feat of beheading the impuissant snakemen? I’ve rent the flesh of their warriors, sucked the marrow from their bones. Such feats do not astound me!”
“Snakemen are real? Seriously?” Richard wasn’t sure if he had heard the creature correctly.
“Got it.” Beth came up from her knees and turned the doorknob. The sound of the door opening snapped Richard’s attention away.
Mental note: find out more about these real snakemen.
“Realtors are awesome.” Richard’s smirk stretched from ear to ear. The library doors swung open, revealing a dark hallway.
As Beth stepped in, she smiled and flipped on a flashlight she had taken from the van. “Let’s make this trip as fast as possible.” She shined her light against the walls, revealing aging posters and reminders of monthly events.
They crept down the dark hallway with their lights to guide the way. “We’re going to have to turn the power on if we’re going to check for the newspapers,” said Beth.
Ted stepped in behind them, filming them as they spoke. The wight followed shortly, mumbling to itself and closely inspecting everything with fascination.
“I used to work at a gas station. We had the electrical box in the front but you needed keys to turn it off and on.” Richard turned back to look at the camera. He raised his hand over his eyes to shield them from the light. “Are we sure that we really want to tape ourselves committing a breaking and entering?”
“Fair enough.” Ted peeked from behind the camera.
“I would feast upon his eyeballs!” The wight shouted from behind.
“Are you still going on about Conan? He’s a fictional character.”
“Ah, the fictitious,” The wight sneered, showing its rows of yellowed teeth. “The fictitious and the dead are all who would be saved from punishment for such an insult.”
“Anyway,” Beth cut in from the front of the group. “We’re taping this for our own purposes, Richard. We’re going to document everything.”
The group made their way through. Ted still seemed uncomfortable letting the wight stay behind him, but the worst they got from the creature was the occasional cry for food.
It didn’t take them long to make their way to the front desk and then to the main doors. As they had suspected, there was no sophisticated security system in the library of the sleepy town of Bridgedale. Ted shined his light across Beth’s back and the security box.
Richard and the wight were cast in darkness as Beth worked her picks. Despite how oddly comfortable he’d grown with the wight in such a short time, Richard couldn’t help but feel his mind run wild with thoughts of blood and pain when he saw the creature hunched in the dark. Each breath it took made its thin chest expand farther than Richard imagined it should be able to. It returned a stare at Richard, more dull than malicious.
“So uh…” Richard scratched his chin. “Where did you study English?”
“Hmm?” The wight reflected. “What is English?”
“Oh come on! You know the word ‘impuissant’ but don’t know the word English?” Ted spat from behind the camera.
“Got it!” Beth said as she opened the lid on the power box. She held her cellphone’s light to it. “I don’t think we want the whole place lit up, right? Let’s go for this.” She flipped a switch and lights came on in the back.
Richard could see through the entire library. It was two stories, but the center was open enough that he could see up to the second floor. Stacks of books were carefully organized and placed on nearby wooden racks and huge metal shelves—an impressive collection for the town.
The building itself was humble, but did house a few computers in the back. It took a few minutes, but Richard was able to find the newspaper scrollers. The model was different than what he was used to working with, but he figured it out quickly.
The two peeled through countless local newspapers and articles but came across little of value. Ted had set the camera down and started a computer, doing what research he could too.
“Any luck?” Richard sighed. “I haven’t found anything.”
“I might have something here,” Beth said, staring intently at the screen.
“Finally.” Ted let out an exhausted breath and then walked over to grab his camera.
“Apparently there were several animal deformities born around the same time here in the sixties.” Beth scrolled through an article, quickly scanning it. “It talks about one farmer delivering a two-headed cow, another complaining about all their chickens going sterile, another about a horse with a third eye…” She grimaced. “What do you think it means, Richard?”
“Animal deformities,” Richard said aloud as he dug out his heavy tome and let it drop onto the table with a loud thump. He undid a clasp on the aged leather cover and began to leaf through it. “Maybe he was born here? The witch? Or maybe there was a ritual performed here. I think it’s a fairly widespread sign. It’s hard to pinpoint with just that.”
There has to be more.
“What can we do with this, Richard?” Beth looked up from the screen.
“I, uh, I don’t know.” He looked from page to page, the book groaning crisply with each turn. “If he was born in the sixties, then maybe he’s in his fifties? Certainly not ancient. But that’s just a guess. Maybe he’s much older?”
“Can someone just be born a witch?” Ted asked from behind the camera.
Richard looked up to the camera, not sure how to answer the question. “No, not exactly. But it’s p
ossible that a pact with a demon was made, or that there is some inherent strength in his bloodline. No one is born a witch, but some can be born ‘better’ at it than others.”
Beth’s brown eyes focused on Richard as she spoke. “How does that work?”
Oh man. I’m supposed to be the expert here.
Her sweet eyes made it hard for him to think; he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen that exact shade of brown before. He blinked several times to focus himself. “Well, you might hear about a family of mechanics, right? We say it’s ‘in their blood.’ Witches can be the same. Maybe someone in their bloodline sacrificed something for a ritual before they were born? Witches or warlocks aren’t necessarily evil, either. Though this Ere—uh.” He reconsidered repeating the name. “This E.B. we’re dealing with, he certainly seems to be a dick.”
“Yeah,” Ted cut in, “this one has a monster hiding in a basement of a haunted house ready to eat anyone. I’m pretty sure we’re safe to assume he’s evil.”
“Yep, there’s that,” Richard agreed.
“Richard,” Beth said. “You’re the only one here with any knowledge of what’s going on. Give us your best assessment. What is he?”
“Well, with what we have in front of us.” Richard glanced back at the screens and then to them again. “I think we’re dealing with a witch in his late-fifties or -sixties. I’m guessing this because this town isn’t in complete ruins. He’s probably something of a corrupting force, based on these mutations and birth deformities. There’s probably something about people being born deformed. I imagine there was an unnatural spike in them, small town like this might be less willing to put something like that in the papers.”
“There seemed to be something in the season too, right? And the woods? Nothing here seems natural,” Beth interjected.
Richard nodded. “Yeah, but we’re going to need to look for more. This… this just isn’t enough to make a good call.” Richard puffed up his cheeks as he blew out a mouthful of air. “We need to look specifically for any types of strange deaths. Mass suicides or ritual murders could maybe give us a better understanding of how he’s getting his power or how he’s using it. I get a feeling there’s more to him than what we’re seeing here.”