The Depths of the Hollow (Mercy Falls Mythos Book 2)

by Nathaniel Reed

  “He is Vladimir!”

  “I know,” Svetlana smirked, “It was a jest, on the

  whole vampire thing. As in Vlad the Impaler.”

  “Ah,” Kristoff said, “I don’t like jests.”

  “I see that. Well, if I’m going to be that humorless after becoming immortal, then I definitely don’t want to be a vampire.”

  Kristoff cracked what might have been a smile, but looked more like he had something stuck in his teeth, and said, “Fine then. You come with us.”

  Svetlana nodded again. “I will come,” she paused, grinning, “With you.”

  

  Years had gone by since they’d started hunting together; at least a decade or more, Mary thought. Looking at Carl, who was short, stocky and rather average, she understood why he and Julia had never hooked up. He wasn’t exactly Julia’s type. Up until they decided to join forces again, since splitting from The Dragons, Mary had always thought of Carl Napier as sort of cowardly. But she was wrong. He’d gotten in more kills than even Julia, almost as if he was making up for lost time; avenging the innocent, instead of harassing them. It was sad neither he nor Julia had found someone.

  She had gotten lucky with Pete. They worked together long enough to see that they both had similar, kindly natures. And Pete Whiteman, though a gentle, kind soul who’d been involved with the wrong crowd as she had, was also a very brave man. Dressed in a grey cable knit sweater and blue jeans, he looked like an ordinary handsome gentleman; not rugged and more like Peter Parker than Peter the Great. But when it came to fighting, he was there, full throttle, in the thick of it with the rest of them. There was no hesitation. Julia was just Julia, a tough bitch in a black mini-skirt and military green combat boots with stringy strawberry-blond shoulder length hair; an ass kicker from the start, and probably would be until the day she died; and Mary loved all of them, for all of these

  reasons.

  It was while thinking of these things that she was startled by a knock at the door. She looked at the others milling about the apartment. It was after 9:30 p.m.

  “Were any of you expecting someone?” Mary asked. They shook their heads.

  “No,” Pete said, “Maybe I should get it?”

  Pete Whiteman retrieved a stake from the closet, standing to the side of the door, prepared to strike.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “I’m here to see a Miss Crowley, the voice on the other side of the door said, “About the baby.”

  Pete was fascinated. “What do you know about that?”

  “I know enough to know it’s probably safer in your hands right now; considering it was involved in a ritual- a ritual involving vampires.”

  Pete opened the door. He stared at the silver haired fellow in the too hot for this weather trench. “Who are you?”

  “Who I am is unimportant. What you know may be very important.”

  “I’m not inviting you in unless you tell me who you are.”

  Fulton Blake laughed. “Simmer down the bravado dear boy, and please, put down that stake. I’m not a vampire. If I were you would have to invite me in, wouldn’t you? I wouldn’t be able to...”

  Pete saw his wrist twisting too late, the stake dropping from his hand as the man pushed him aside, walking past him into the apartment, before he had time to react.

  “Ow!” Pete said. Blake had not twisted hard. It was Pete’s pride that was wounded.

  “What was I saying?” Blake lifted his head

  inquisitively. “Oh yes, I wouldn’t be able to just waltz in

  like that, now would I?”

  The other three moved in on him. Blake raised his hands, palms outward. “It’s all right. I’m not here to harm any of you, please.”

  They halted.

  “Could have fooled me,” Julia said. “Pete, you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his wrist.

  “My name is Fulton Blake, although that’s not the name I currently go under.”

  Peter’s eyes opened wide. “Blake? You’re THE Blake?!” he grinned.

  “No. Just plain Blake.”

  “You’re a legend man,” Pete said.

  Even Julia was impressed. “You went into the pit after those creeps!”

  “Word is you were packing machine guns, and crossbows, and knives,” Carl said.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Blake responded.

  “The boys, and the girl, Staci, they were with you,” Mary said. “The newspapers were saying you were corrupting our youth, setting them out on crazy adventures.”

  “Yes,” Blake chuckled. “I’m well aware of what the newspapers were saying.”

  “You got ‘em all didn’t you? Annihilated those fuckers with, it sounded like you used a hand grenade,” Julia said.

  “Several hand grenades actually. We got nearly all,” Blake agreed. “I acknowledge and appreciate the praise, but I certainly didn’t achieve that alone. I’ve come here to discuss more serious matters.”

  Pete motioned him toward the sofa, “All right.

  Have a seat.” He winced at the sudden pain as he used his

  still aching appendage.

  Blake nodded sympathetically. “Sorry about the

  wrist. You’ll be fine in a half hour or so, but you might want to get some ice. Occupational hazard, I suppose.”

  “For you or for me?” Pete wondered.

  “A little of both I suspect,” Blake conceded.

  Pete went to get a hand towel and some ice, and the four of them sat on the couch.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE SEARCH FOR THE SACRIFICE

  Faraday looked down as the men with the shovels backed away. The child was where the witch Helena said it was, in a shallow unmarked grave.

  He knew what it all meant. Someone would have to take the body and autopsy it, examine it, look for cause of death and evidence. It meant that an innocent baby was dead, and it was his job to call the parents and tell them. It meant he had failed them.

  In his ten years on the force, first as a rookie cop, and working his way up to detective, he had never seen such a sight. What kind of monsters were these people?

  “Fuuuuccccckk!” he cried out in anger and frustration. He walked to his car. No one stopped him. Many were feeling what he felt, but none more so than David Faraday.

  Later on, in his office he sat looking at the picture on his desk of himself with his wife and three little girls. Amelia Rivers passed by, knocking on the glass of the open door as she poked her head in. “Detective?”

  He knew what she wanted. She was here to see Ben.

  “I don’t think he wants to talk to anyone quite yet.” Amelia saw something was wrong. His eyes were red, damp. “Detective, are you all right?”

  “No,” Faraday admitted.

  “What is it? Something to do with Ben?”

  “It’s this other case I’m working on.” He made a conscious decision to divert from her stare, casting his head down. “I’m sorry, now is not a good time.”

  “All right,” she said, “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  He picked up the phone to call the Williams.’

  k

  Drakos buried Nico in the grounds behind the estate. He wanted him there as a constant reminder to himself not to trust anyone, and to the others to never step out of line. It was as much a failure on his part to have welcomed him into the coven, as it was of Nico’s cravings. Nico was too unstable, volatile, and Drakos should have known better. It had cost them a month’s work, and now they’d lost Helena as well, and it was up to the four remaining members of The Coven to find a suitable replacement for the sacrifice. It was time to blend in with society once again.

  k

  Just as sure as the earth is deep and the night is dark, so to is the suffering of loving parents at the loss of their child. There are no words of consolation for this horror, no greater grief that can beset the mortal soul, no respite from this anguish but time, and a slow unsteady
healing. It is with these words that we leave Michael and Cassie Williams, to grieve, and eventually, to endure.

  k

  It was the first week of August and the checkout lines at the Supra-Mart were running again. Melissa Rathby was holding hands at one of these busy lines with her six year old daughter Hilda, her five day old boy Liam in a car seat on the shopping cart’s basket carrier. Both her post pregnancy exhaustion and the slow pace of the line were dragging her down. Since they’d re-opened the Supra-Mart a few days ago all the people that had been forced to get groceries at the 7-11 or the small mom-and-pop shops flocked back to it in droves. The result was something that

  looked like the freeway during rush hour traffic. Ora Blanchard stood behind her with her ten year old daughter Eve, and her four year old son Kevin.

  “Look ma, baby!” Kevin was pointing and reiterating for the fifth time.

  “Yes, I know honey, that’s a baby,” Ora grinned.

  Melissa turned around and smiled at Ora and her children. “They’re precious,” Ora said.

  “Thanks,” Melissa smiled, “Yours too.”

  They both had buggy fulls. Ora noticed a woman behind her with just a few items and said, “You can go ahead if you’d like.”

  “Really? That would be wonderful,” Berenice Simonides said, “Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Ten year old Eve Blanchard, with her golden red hair, eyed her suspiciously. She didn’t know what true evil was yet, but she would one day.

  Berenice admired the baby in the car seat, “Oh, how adorable! How old is he?”

  “Thank you! Just five days,” Melissa beamed.

  “Marvelous!” Berenice said.

  k

  Anastasios Drakos and Berenice Simonides had watched the mother enter the store. She was parked a good ways back due to the Supra-Mart’s busyness. Berenice had gone inside, while Anastasios tested the doors on Melissa Rathby’s car and found the one to the back seat unlocked. Excellent! Now Drakos hid inside, crouched down in wait for the mother to return.

  It was nearly an hour before she did. Melissa had her hands full reaching to open the back door to place her baby inside, her six year old in tow.

  “Here, let me help,” Berenice said from behind her,

  surprising her.

  “Oh, thank you, that would be great.”

  She opened the door for her, winking at Drakos squatting beneath the seats. Berenice transferred the baby into the back in its car seat.

  Melissa let go of her daughter’s hand. “Hilda, go around to the front. I’ll unlock the door as soon as I get Liam buckled in.” She was going to thank Berenice, but before Hilda could comply, and Melissa could turn, Berenice twisted and snapped the little girl’s neck, using her other hand to cover the mother’s mouth. Hilda crumpled to the ground.

  The mother made as if to scream, but the silencing hand muffled any sound. Berenice spun her head around to be certain no one was watching. It was nothing but a blur of densely packed cars filling the lot. But there would be people soon. She placed the point of a dagger into Melissa’s side. “Shut the fuck up bitch, or I’ll stab you, I swear. Now get in the car.” Melissa nodded, crying, as she turned to see her daughter on the ground and wailed in despair.

  “I said shut the fuck up!” Berenice said, and plunged the knife into her side. She took her keys, and shoved her into the front seat. The baby started crying. Drakos popped up in the rear seat, holding a gun to the back of the mother’s head. Berenice went around to the front passenger side.

  “Now you can drive or sit here to bleed out,” Drakos said.

  Melissa paused. “You killed her! You killed her!”

  “GO!! Right now or I’ll put a bullet in your head!” Drakos screamed.

  Melissa drove out of the parking lot. “Where do you want me to go?” she said after several minutes.

  “I’ll tell you where to go,” Drakos said. “Make a left, there.”

  “Please don’t hurt my baby,” she said.

  “I have no intention of hurting your baby,” Drakos informed her.

  “You killed Hilda, you killed my daughter,” she said.

  “Necessary,” Berenice stated, as a matter of fact.

  “Apply pressure to that wound. We wouldn’t want you passing out while driving.”

  They steered her into a secluded place off of Mills Avenue Park, a dirt and gravel road lined with trees.

  “All right, pull in here,” Drakos said. “Now get out, slowly.” She complied.

  They got out of the car. Melissa looked around for someone, anyone. The baby was still in the car.

  “Walk toward that grove of trees.” Drakos put a silencer on his weapon.

  “You’re going to kill me aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” Drakos said. Melissa screamed.

  “HELP!! ANYONE PLEASE HELP!!”

  “Bitch!” Drakos shouted, and shot her in the back of the head from ten feet away. People came running from the park.

  “Hey!” a man shouted as he came upon the scene. Drakos shot him in the chest. Two women ran toward them and Berenice made a twisting motion with her hand, fingers curled claw-like, bending the wind into a giant ball and slamming it into their bodies, sending them into the trees. A man came from behind Drakos and wrestled the gun away, grabbing his arms. It fell, going off, and the shot struck Berenice in the shoulder. Drakos kicked the man holding him in the shin, and then turned, elbowing him in the jaw. The man went down. He turned to the bystanders still coming at them and rattled off words in Latin. The people were halted in mid run by an invisible barrier. One man’s head collided with it, leaving a sphere of blood on the barrier; another banged his shoulder; and a really unlucky

  one broke his arm in mid stride.

  “Damn it!” Drakos cursed. He dragged Berenice across the gravel by the arms to the car. She hissed at the pain in her shoulder. He dumped her on the passenger side and ran around to the driver’s side. The key was still in the ignition, the car idle. He shifted into drive, speeding off. The baby was wailing again.

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Drakos yelled.

  Berenice was sweating, groaning.

  “We’ll be back at the house in no time,” Drakos told her, “Jason will take care of it.”

  “The baby...” Berenice said.

  “The baby’s fine. We’ve still got him!”

  “Good,” she said, and fell unconscious.

  k

  Sixteen, and eight and a half months pregnant, Chelsea Greene was lucky enough to have a boyfriend that actually stood by her. With her dyed blonde hair now gathering back its black roots, a haphazard bun on the back of her head trailing strands down her face, her enormous belly and pudgy toes, Steve Jenkins still thought she was gorgeous. More than half of the girls at Liberty High who did get pregnant were no longer with the father. It was certainly not a choice she would have made had she thought things through, before having unprotected sex. But at least she had a guy that was willing to stick with her, and from a seventeen year old boy with raging hormones that was a lot to expect.

  A fake police light on the roof of a stolen car with a man and woman inside was something neither expected. But this is what Jason Korba and Sophia Papadaki were driving. The car was a white Crown Vic, and although they only had a circular blue domed light and there was no siren, the rotating light was sufficient to cause Steve and

  Chelsea to pull over to the side of the road.

  Jason and Sophia got out of the car. Only Jason had a gun, in one hand, with no holster, and neither had a uniform. The guy just looked like some punk teenager, not much older than Steve was.

  “Something’s wrong,” Steve said. He picked up his cell phone to call the local PD. They were parked off the road right at the edge of the woods.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “Ma’am, do you have a patrol car stationed outside Jeremiah’s Woods?”

  “Sir?”

&nb
sp; “Is there an officer outside the woods right now?!! I think we just got pulled over by a fake.” He put the car back into drive. “I’m pulling back on to the road.”

  “Sir! You’re going to have to step out of the car!” Jason shouted. He fired, blowing out the back windshield. Chelsea and Steve screamed.

  “Were those shots fired?” the 9-1-1 operator asked.

  Steve dropped the phone, and drove. Jason and Sophia ran back to the stolen car.

  “Who the hell are these guys?!” Steve screeched in dismay.

  “I don’t know, but get us out of here!” Chelsea said, shaking.

  All of a sudden the car swerved on its own, veering right, sideswiping a tree.

  “What the hell?!” Steve exclaimed.

  Sophia and Jason were back in the car following.

  “Yeah,” Jason screeched excitedly, “Make them crash!”

  Sophia was concentrating. She made a sudden shift with her arm as if swatting a fly, open palmed, as she watched the car ahead, and Steve’s car careened to the left. Then she stretched her arms out, interlocking fingers, making them wave and the car zigzagged across the road.

  “I can’t control the car!” Steve screamed. The car crashed into a light pole. The Crown Victoria pulled up right behind them.

  The boy was unconscious, his forehead having smacked into the windshield, bleeding, the airbag deployed too late. The girl had her seat pulled back to accommodate the growing child, the seat belt loose under her breasts, moaning. Her airbag, if she had one, did not deploy.

  “Get her out, quickly!” Sophia said, “Before someone sees us!”

  Jason did; being on the edge of the woods, on a rarely travelled road helped. They got the girl into their backseat, leaving the boyfriend behind.

  The girl fully woke five minutes after they were back on the road.

  “What is this? Where’s my boyfriend?” she demanded. Jason was driving. Sophia held the gun now. She turned in her seat to face the girl. “You’re going to shut up and do everything we say, or you’re going to get a bullet in your brain. Understood?”