by James Somers
He waited, until he began to worry. There were no bubbles rising to the surface of the pond. The water was still. Undisturbed. How could she possibly hold her breath so long?
Something was definitely wrong. If Angela got hurt, he would be blamed. That’s what she was doing. She wanted him to be in trouble. She enjoyed it every time her father yelled at him.
He kicked his shoes off in frustration, starting into the water. “I’ll get you for this,” he grumbled. “You’ll be sorry, Angela!”
Adolf looked out over the pond as he stepped in, the mud squishing up between his toes as he sank down. Floating on the surface, face down, was Angela. Her sundress was fanned out around her legs.
He panicked. Surely it wasn’t true. Angela wouldn’t have just drowned herself like that. He launched himself into the water. Frantically, he swam out to her, promising himself that he would have his revenge if she was faking.
But she had not been faking anything. Angela had turned from him and walked out into the depths of the pond to her death. She had never made any attempt to stop. In fact, she had never even held her breath. No bubbles had been released at all. She had sucked in as much water as possible before being overcome by a lack of oxygen.
Adolf had recovered her body, and then gone back for help. Alois had become angry and grief stricken. Even though he hadn’t been able to prove it, he blamed Adolf for Angela’s death. Only Anai’s presence had prevented Alois from attacking the boy.
That incident had occurred just over five months ago. People in the village looked at him warily. Especially the Jews in their village. Many times they pointed at him, calling him shedim, pointing, their eyes filled with fear and loathing.
Adolf did not know how, but he understood the meaning of the word. It was the Hebrew word for demon. When he had mentioned this matter to his mother, she had assured him that the Jews were a superstitious people. She did not like them, and Adolf should have nothing to do with them.
Alois had spoken that word yesterday. He was not a Jew, but he did live in this village. He had heard the rumors. He already blamed Adolf for what had happened to Angela. Now, he called Adolf shedim also, blaming him for the death of Alois Jr.
As with all of Alois’s children, Adolf and Alois Jr. had never managed to get along. The boy was older than Adolf by several years, but he was not any bigger. In fact, on several occasions, their tempers had flared at one another, prompting Alois Jr. to attack Adolf.
Being a Descendant, Adolf had been quicker and stronger, easily forcing Alois Jr. into submission, even breaking the boy’s nose on one occasion following Angela’s death. Despite Anai’s influence over their minds, they still hated Adolf and he them. It had begun that way and never changed.
Alois Jr. had decided to confront Adolf in the room the boy’s were forced to share in the attic space at the top of the house. He had been holding his father’s knife this time, giving him the nerve to make another attempt on Adolf, despite being beaten before. Adolf had stood in the attic watching the weapon as Alois Jr. rolled his white knuckles around it.
“I know it was you,” Alois Jr. had said. “You were the only one there with her. Angela was afraid of the water. She never would have gone into the pond on her own.”
“I’ve told you already, I didn’t kill her,” Adolf said coldly.
Alois Jr. ignored his denial. “I know what you are,” he said. “Some of the men in the village have seen through your disguise. They say you are a demon. They say you must be cast back to Hell before everyone in the village is killed.”
“The Jews?” Adolf asked.
“They study the scriptures,” Alois Jr. said. “They see you for what you really are. If no one else will do it, I will.”
The family dog, a collie named Bandit, appeared at the top of the stair leading up to the attic. Alois Jr. watched as the dog he had raised from a pup, came to stand beside Adolf. Bandit began to growl at Alois holding the knife.
“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Alois Jr. asked.
The dog bore its teeth at him in reply, spittle frothing as it barked and snapped at him.
“Stop it, Bandit!” Alois Jr. demanded, trying to keep his attention on Adolf.
The collie rushed ahead of Adolf, leaping at Alois Jr. He stumbled backward, his knife stabbing accidentally into the dog as it clawed and snapped at his face. They both crashed through the plate glass window, tumbling down to the hard packed earth below.
Alois Jr. had broken his neck. The dog had not been fatally wounded by the knife. Strangely, its demeanor had gone back to the docile pup that had been so beloved by the family. That didn’t stop Alois from shooting the dog when he came home to find what had happened to his son.
The boy’s body had been taken into town to the physician. When Alois had come home that evening to confront Anai and her son, he had been carrying his shotgun. He meant to kill Adolf. He had said so.
Anai had prevented him, her voice taking hold on his mind as they stood in the living room together. Adolf had watched the gun lower as she spoke to him. Her words were firm and severe, not kind, not soothing despite the death that had taken place.
Alois had, somehow, never been fully under her control. She could make his body obey, even though his mind continued to rebel against her persuasion. Still, he had dropped the gun. Alois had grabbed his youngest daughter, Paula, from her little bed and run out the front door into the downpour of that rainy night. So far, he had not returned to their home.
Adolf watched the sky. The storm had cleared during the early morning. His mother had woke today in a foul mood, unwilling to discuss what had happened. In her eyes, Adolf thought he saw her condemnation. Did she believe that he had caused all of this?
They had been meant to make a life here, at least until Lucifer returned for them. Now, this arrangement was falling apart. Two of Alois’s children were dead and he had gone to do who knows what about it. Adolf refused to believe that the man would simply let this pass without retribution. He had to convince his mother to leave.
Retribution
Alois waited impatiently as the elders of Braunau came one by one into the room. He had called for this meeting the night before, having taken refuge from the sprite and her son in the home of a friend, one Joseph Cohen. Joseph’s wife, Anna, had taken over the care of Alois’s remaining child, little Paula.
“Honestly, we’ve been worried about you,” Joseph had said once they got the child into a warm bed. “Some of our older men and women have been saying strange things about that boy.”
“I’ve heard,” Alois had replied. “I’m beginning to believe it.”
Of course, Alois hadn’t mentioned his own heritage. There was no need. He had never had any problems with the people of Braunau noticing something different about him. But, if the Jews living in the village were seeing Adolf as a monster, then all the better.
He truly did believe that the boy had caused the death of his two older children. That much he was not faking. It was too coincidental that these so called accidents had occurred in the presence of a boy that Lucifer held a peculiar interest in.
But he was done with that now. Lucifer would see him dead at the hands of these two villains living in his home. What did the angel care if Alois was murdered? No. He had to do something to get rid of them, and he needed all of the help he could get.
The men who were coming into the dining room with Alois were all relatives of Joseph and his wife, or Jewish friends who had come to settle in Braunau around the same time. Alois had no idea why only the Jews seemed to have the Sight. Still, they had not noticed Alois, or Anai, so maybe it was particular to Adolf alone.
In total, twelve middle-aged men had come to Joseph’s house. He and Alois made the total at fourteen. Alois felt relieved. That was a good number to conduct an attack. He wouldn’t have to do this alone—at least, if they actually agreed to help him rid his home of these pests.
Once all of the men had seated themselves, Joseph closed the
double sliding doors leading into the dining room. None of the wives of these men had come. Action might result…the kind that would be quite dangerous.
Joseph came to stand at the head of his own dining table where Alois sat to his right. The other men had not stopped staring at Alois since coming through the door. These looks were not particularly friendly, as they considered him to possibly be under the boy’s spell.
“I’ve called you all here tonight on behalf of my good friend,” Joseph said. “Now, we all know about the boy and the rumors that are getting around town. Many of you are the source of these rumors because of what you’ve seen when finding the boy in town.”
Joseph looked at Alois then. “Is there anything you would like to say?”
Alois stood then, as Joseph sat down. “Men, I understand your apprehension at meeting here tonight. But, honestly, I have nowhere else to turn. The woman in my home is not my wife. Klara is dead.”
Everyone in the room gasped audibly.
“It’s true,” Alois continued. “I believe this woman is a witch of some kind, or a demon. Her son has threatened me before. I was forced by them, for the sake of my children, to allow them to stay in my home.”
Alois worked up tears for effect.
“Now, two of my children are dead,” he continued with difficulty. “You men see them for what they are. I implore you: help me and my Paula to be rid of these devils.”
The men muttered between them. Alois listened.
Lucifer would be angry, to be sure. But he had to do something. How long before Anai and her son sent him leaping out a high window, or forced him to cut his own throat as she had threatened months ago? This was the only way. At least, he could later blame the men of the town for whatever happened.
The men continued to talk amongst themselves until they came to a consensus. One of the older men, Horace by name, stood at the far end of the table. Alois waited anxiously for the verdict.
“We will help you to be rid of this menace,” Horace said.
Alois smiled.
“But it must be done our way,” Horace continued. “These devils must be killed. Their bodies must be burned to cleanse our town of this evil.”
Alois’s smile became a grim line. He nodded curtly. “I understand,” he said. “Please understand that fighting such creatures will require all of our strength.”
The men nodded their agreement.
“However,” Alois continued, “I have a plan.”
Adolf flew through the air, landing upon a rooftop in town—the local Seed and Feed store. He ran across, crouched low, his steps light as a feather. He leaped away, coming down upon another and another, hoping to avoid detection in town. Alois’s home, however, was located at the far end from where he had come from. Simply flying would be too obvious.
He came down to the ground behind the Blacksmith’s shop. No one appeared to be out on the streets. This was unusual. However, the sun was already setting, so he assumed that everyone had finished conducting their daily affairs early in order to get to dinner.
Adolf took the opportunity and ran all the way home. He was faster than any mortal. Fast enough to make any local canine jealous.
He soon arrived at the home where they had come to live with Alois. Adolf ran through the door. His mother appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, looking alarmed until she saw her son safe and sound. However, he didn’t look happy, striding up to her.
Adolf looked around the house. “Alois hasn’t returned, has he?”
Anai hesitated. “No, he hasn’t. Why? What’s happened?”
“Nothing yet,” Adolf said, looking out the windows into the night. He paced back and forth. “Mother, we should leave Braunau as soon as possible. Tonight wouldn’t be too soon.”
“Calm down,” Anai said, returning to the supper she had been preparing in the kitchen. “You’re overreacting.”
“But Mother,” he said, “Alois believes that I killed his children. He’ll come for revenge.”
Anai stifled a laugh. “Alois Hitler? He’s no threat. That pompous windbag has probably left town with his little girl. He won’t come back here. I promised him his head on a platter, if he made any trouble for us.”
“The men of the town, those Jews, have been talking about me,” Adolf said. “They call me shedim—a demon. It’s like they know that I’m a Descendant. These Jews have the Sight!”
Anai glared at her son. “Preposterous,” she said. “They are mortals. How could they know?”
Adolf continued his pacing. “I don’t know, but they do. Why would they call me that unless they could see?”
Anai didn’t answer immediately.
Finally, she said, “I’ll go into town tomorrow and deal with these men.”
“What are you going to do?”
Anai smiled at her son, tousling his curly locks. “I’ll simply persuade them that they’ve been wrong.”
“I still think we should leave Braunau,” Adolf said, unconvinced. “We could go to one of the colonies Alois mentioned last month. Most everyone in Galidel has gone to the Amazon. We could join—”
Anai interrupted him. “I’ll not join Luxana anywhere,” she said hotly. “You heard what Lucifer said. Luxana neglected to inform us of the destruction that was coming to Galidel. She as much as sentenced us to death by her inaction. I’ll never forgive her for that.”
Adolf stood still. It was hard to argue with his mother on that point. Even if his aunt had forgotten them where they dwelled apart in the jungle, Anai would not hear it. Lucifer’s warning to them had been their only means of escaping what had happened.
“Well, the sprites don’t have the only colony set up in the aftermath of this calamity,” Adolf said. “Alois was informed that the vampires have established settlements in Russia, and then there is the largest colony in Ireland.”
“Vampires do not take in strangers lightly,” Anai said skeptically.
“Okay,” Adolf conceded. “But what about Ireland? Alois mentioned many clans of Descendants dwelling there together as one. It sounds perfect. We wouldn’t have to stay here in Braunau where we are clearly not wanted.”
As if punctuating Adolf’s point, a window in the living room exploded. Something had been tossed through. Adolf looked into the room, horrified as he realized it was one of Alois’s beloved beehives from the backyard. The wooden box was now smashed. The bees inside began to swarm angrily, searching for anything they could find to exact retribution upon for the destruction of their nest.
Another window was smashed in one of the bedrooms. Another hive exploded through a window landing in the kitchen where Anai was standing. She screamed as bees came upon her in waves—angry and violent.
Several had already stung Adolf by now, even though he moved quickly, attempting to avoid harm by leaping over furniture then crawling upon the ground. He could hear his mother in the next room. She crashed through a shelf covered in porcelain figures. Anai landed upon the floor covered in bees and blood, clawing desperately at her face.
Adolf heard shouts coming from the outside of the house—the voices of the men who had done this. He shot up to the ceiling of the room, closing his eyes against the pain as angry bees continued to sting him all over his body. Below, in the kitchen, he could just make out his mother’s legs kicking as she rolled on the floor screaming.
Men burst into the house through the back and front doors. Another apparently came through a window, shattering it to get inside. Adolf focused his mind on the gas sconces, causing the flames to wink out. The house was cast instantly into darkness. The men cried out for fear as their ability to see went away.
Breathing through the pain, Adolf waited motionless against the ceiling. His mother continued to cry out as the enraged bees unrelentingly assaulted her. The men soon found her on the floor in the dark.
“We’ve found the witch, Alois,” one of the men said.
Adolf knew that voice. He had heard the man speaking many times as a guest of Al
ois. The Jewish man, Joseph Cohen. So, Alois had gone to these people with their ability to see him—those who had labeled him a monster. They had been willing to kill for Alois.
A terrible blast rang out, a flash of gunpowder illuminating the kitchen as they shot his mother. Her legs fell still immediately. Adolf cried out in the dark, unable to contain his agony. All his life, it had been him and his mother, inseparable.
Alois and his men picked up on Adolf’s cry. They came through the house searching for him in the dark. He stifled his screams immediately. He wouldn’t let them do the same to him as they had his mother.
Cries of pain came from the men as they disturbed the bees. Evidently, they had briefly forgotten the means they had employed to incapacitate Anai and her son. They cursed their stings in the dark, some of the men running out of the house under attack from the enraged insects.
Adolf spotted Alois as he came into the living room, shadows sliding across the wall. He was carrying a double barreled shotgun at the ready, stock against his shoulder and the still-smoking barrel held out before him. He wore his beekeepers outfit, so he wasn’t retreating like many of the others.
“Come out, boy,” he said menacingly.
Adolf slid his knife from the sheath he kept on his belt at his back. He was clinging to the ceiling like an inverted fly. He waited until Alois turned away from the middle of the room when one of the men called after him.
Adolf only had one chance and he had to be quick about it, or Alois would kill him like he had his mother. Adolf dropped from the ceiling, bounding off the balls of his feet. He flew through window at the far end of the living room, crashing through the glass as Alois turned.
A second later, Alois appeared at the broken window with his shotgun aimed, preparing to fire. Adolf turned abruptly from running across the lawn, hurling his knife. The blade sink into Alois’s forehead with a loud thunk.
Alois fell backward into the room, his shotgun firing as he hit the floor. The wall sconces had continued to run fuel even after Adolf had snuffed out their flames a moment ago. Alois’s final shot ignited the gas enriched atmosphere within the house. The flames engulfed the men who had invaded the home, their screams dying a moment later than they did.