Necropolis PD

by Nathan Sumsion

  “Well, I do not know their identity specifically. But I know who it was, as in a group. But I am afraid you are not going to like the answer.”

  I think I know where this is going now. “You’re going to say it’s demons, aren’t you?”

  His face lights up in delight. “You are extremely perceptive, Detective.”

  “Look,” I say, getting a little angry. “I don’t need you wasting my time.”

  “Whatever do you mean?” he asks, innocently.

  “It might be funny to mess with the lone living guy. I know I’ve still got a lot to learn, but at least I know there’s no such thing as demons. So why don’t you quit stalling and tell me what you know.”

  “I see. Very well. I am more than happy to cooperate with you. You have my word.”

  He extends his hand to me. “Shake on it?” he asks, again grinning.

  I’m irritated, but if it gains his cooperation, I’ll play along. “Sure,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. I’m ready for any sudden moves.

  My hand passes right through his. I don’t mean I missed; I mean, where I expected his hand to be a solid, physical thing, my hand met nothing. I stand there, staring uncomprehendingly, passing my hand back through his again, trying to figure out what this means. He’s not a ghost, at least none like I’ve ever seen. He looks solid, but he’s clearly not.

  He’s grinning from ear to ear, delighting in my confusion.

  “Have you figured it out yet, Detective?” he asks. He leans in closer and speaks in a whisper.

  “How does it feel, meeting your very first demon?”

  Chapter 30

  Ghostbane! Activate Ghostbane! Activate Ghostbane! I scream at my badge. Nothing happens. Frank is still in front of me, smiling, uncomfortably close.

  My brain isn’t working really well right now. There are a few gears that are slipping.

  Shit. I’m terrified. I’ve just stepped off a ledge, and I’m looking at a long drop.

  “Detective Green? Are you OK?” I can hear the alarm in Greystone’s voice.

  Yes. No. Maybe? I don’t know what the hell . . . Not hell, I mean heck! Dammit. I’m fine. I’m . . . Leave me alone. Over and out.

  Awesome. That was smooth. I’m not ready to get Greystone involved in this yet until I understand how much danger I’m looking at.

  Frank is still smiling at me. I expect to see canary feathers peeking out from his cat’s grin. He’s just waiting, reading my reactions.

  “A demon,” I finally say.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” I admit. “Wait, are you going to try and possess me?”

  He leans back a bit, raising his eyebrows. “Would you allow me to do that?” He says it as a joke, but I can hear the yearning hidden behind the words.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Then you need not worry, Jake. I can only enter where I am invited. That includes bodies. I cannot have one of my own, but I can take one that is freely given to me.”

  “Only enter where you’re invited in? That sounds like vampires.”

  “What are vampires, Jake? What do you know of them really? They are demons that have taken over some poor soul’s body. Well, a demon of sorts.”

  “So, you’re like Satan or Beelzebub, those guys?”

  Frank shakes his head dismissively. “They are the ones that got me into this mess, yes. But I have not spoken to them in millennia.”

  That stops me again. I was kidding. Kind of.

  Crap.

  I’ve never considered Satan or Beelzebub to be real beings. They have always been figures in a story, one that I more or less believed, but in the abstract. I never expected to actually meet them.

  “Mess?” I ask, trying to reign in my panicked thoughts.

  “Kicked out of the presence of God. Cast into Eternal Darkness. Exiled into the torturous bowels of hell for all of eternity. That mess.”

  I’m feeling a little dizzy. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  “Be my guest,” he offers, with an amused smile. “It is not like I can use it.”

  I sit, dropping a little more quickly than I expected. My mind doesn’t want to believe this. I’m talking to a demon. And I believe what he’s telling me, which goes against everything my mom and every pastor I’ve ever heard warned me against.

  “How did you get out of hell?”

  He sighs theatrically. “Hell is not a specific place, you understand. Sure, we congregate in some places, so we can all be miserable together. But hell is anywhere God is not. My rebellion, my sins were so egregious that He has completely cast me aside. I got suckered by the sweet words of the Morning Star and made a mistake from which I will never be able to recover.

  “I did not get out of hell, as you say, because I can never escape it. It is everywhere with me. It has been this way for millions of years. It will be the same for millions upon millions more.”

  Again, he puts levity to the words, but they are forced. I’m about to ask another question, but I recognize in his eyes that he knows I can hear the longing in his words. I see the first flash of anger cross his gaze.

  “Jacob Green, we could spend the remainder of your life discussing things that you do not understand. I was created millions of years ago. I have lived and observed humans throughout the entirety of their existence. I have seen every possible human drama, scheme, thought, and desire. None of it interests me anymore. So a person dies and goes to God a few years earlier than you feel is fair. What does that matter against the millions of years I have waited? And you lot, no matter how poorly you blunder through your existence, you can pass on to Him. Killing you before you can sin too badly would be a gift to you—from an eternal perspective—do you not think?”

  He is suddenly an arm’s length away from me. He moved across the room in the space of a blink. “I have found a place where I can pass the dreary years away in relative obscurity and peace. And you are threatening that.”

  “Me?” I ask in confusion. Just once, I wish I knew what was going on! “How do I threaten you? I barely even know you.”

  “It is because of what you are.”

  I wait. “You’re going to make me ask it, aren’t you?”

  Frank chuckles. I hear actual amusement. “I must admit, it has been many centuries since I have met someone who entertains me as much as you.”

  “Thanks?”

  “Of course, I think that was a monkey I met last time, so maybe it is not quite the same.”

  “Nice. What am I that threatens you so much?”

  He leans in so that he is only inches from my face, “You, Jacob Green, are a Seer.”

  Frank looks at me intently, but I just stare back at him. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of asking a question this time.

  He smiles and takes a step back as he continues. “A Seer is someone who is able to perceive the truth of things. Not simply knowing when someone is lying, though undoubtedly that is the most common aspect you experience.”

  “Sure,” I say, placating him, waiting for him to continue.

  “You can see the true face of things. Glamours do not work on you. You can detect the meaning behind words. You can perceive the intent of a message. You can detect deception regardless of how it is presented.”

  I think about this. OK. It makes sense; it explains a lot. But so do horoscopes. Someone says anything generally enough and you can convince yourself it applies to you. “A Seer, you said?”

  “Yes. A gifted individual, you stumbled into our city because you could see through all the glamours that keep it hidden from mortal eyes.”

  “You think that’s how I found my way to this place? This city?”

  He snorts derisively. “For a start. Glamours are everywhere here. Everyone you have met thus far has them. And for those like
me—”

  “Demons, you mean.”

  “Yes, for demons like me, we can create the strongest glamours of all. We have been living here for centuries, undetected, unsuspected. Because our glamours cannot be detected by anything.”

  “Except me,” I say slowly.

  “Exactly.” He smiles at me, but I don’t sense anything friendly from it. “Except for Seers.”

  I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. A shiver travels up my spine. I can’t sense Frank’s presence at all. There’s no way to accurately explain it. When you’re in a room with someone, you can feel that they are there. Whether it’s a comforting feeling or a terrifying one, you at least acknowledge that someone else is nearby in some way. I don’t get anything like that from Frank. He is completely silent. There isn’t a scuff of a boot on the floor, no sound from the shift of leaning on one foot to another, no creak of joints as the body shifts. No breathing. Nothing.

  I open my eyes to make sure he’s still there. Yup, he’s staring back at me. Staring at me with eyes that have seen millions of years pass them by, eyes that don’t exist in a physical sense but in some spiritual form.

  “How do you look so real then? If you don’t have a body? If I can see through glamours, why can I see you?”

  He shakes his head. “You see me in my natural form, Jacob Green. You alone out of everyone here. I could change my form so that you see something else, but it requires more effort. We need to hurry this up, Jacob. I do not like being out of sight for this long.”

  “Why?”

  Frank just smiles. “One more question. A freebie. I might not even lie to you.”

  “I’ll know if you lie,” I reply confidently.

  “Of course you will. I have only been lying for millions of years. I have been surrounded by the vilest and most evil creatures in creation. I am sure I will not be able to get one past you.”

  Dammit. I swallow uneasily. One question and an answer I probably won’t be able to trust. I could ask about the case, I suppose.

  “So, you’ve seen God then? He really exists?” I sneak in two.

  Frank’s smile fades away. His eyes lose focus. He doesn’t say anything.

  “Yes,” he finally says, quietly. “I remember Him. I hated Him all the time I was with Him, hated Him so much. Always with the rules. Work to do. And then Lucifer—with his tantalizing words and plans—was it any wonder I was led astray? And then He cast me out for my rebellion. And now, now all I want is to go back.”

  He shakes his head quickly and snaps his gaze back to mine. I think of my brother, and another question comes to mind, but I dare not ask it. I couldn’t trust the answer, no matter what he said.

  “Enough of my problems,” he says. “As if I could even confide in you. Your mind cannot possibly comprehend the complexity of my situation. And you should not believe anything I tell you anyway.”

  “I’m pretty sure I will know most of the lies—even if you manage to get a few past me,” I say.

  “That is the beauty of lying,” he says, turning away from me, walking back around the table to sit down in front of the typewriter again. “I will tell you this secret: a good liar never lies all the time. Then no one trusts anything you say. But if you lie one time out of four? One time out of ten? Then you people start to listen. Such knowledge can be yours, and it is right most of the time. Except when it is so disastrously wrong.” He starts laughing.

  I already hate this guy. The trick is going to be making sure he doesn’t hate me. Because I’m pretty sure he could cause me some trouble. Who am I kidding? I’m in crazy trouble right now. I’m talking to a demon!

  “You have strong glamours, you say?” I ask him.

  “Oh, yes.”

  “So, if I try and convince my coworkers about you—”

  “I would strongly advise against that, Jacob. They will not believe you, and you will not be able to prove it. You will look more foolish than you already are.”

  “Great,” I mutter.

  “But more importantly,” he continues, and his grin widens impossibly even further. “If you start talking about demons, then others like me will know you know. And if they know a Seer exists, they will take immediate measures to eliminate you. You are the greatest threat we face.”

  “Oh. But if I’m your greatest threat, why are you helping me?”

  He laughs. “That is precious. You think I am helping you? Maybe, in this case, telling you the truth is going to do you the most harm.”

  “What?”

  “Jacob, you are a Seer. You are likely the first one that has ever been to this place. Your kind were hunted to near extinction by supernatural beings throughout history. Even I do not know how few of you there are left, nor how you became one. But I do know that very few people here will welcome your presence if they know the truth.”

  I groan and close my eyes. Wait a minute.

  “You’re lying,” I say, opening my eyes and standing up.

  “Am I?” He leans back in his chair.

  “What you just said. Seers were hunted, there are few left, I won’t be welcomed here—something isn’t right.”

  Frank shrugs. “Perhaps. Maybe you should try telling everyone that you are a Seer. See what happens.”

  And back to where I started. Dammit again.

  “OK. Enough with the games. You’re clever, I’m stupid, and I pose some kind of threat to you and your friends—”

  He hisses sharply. “NOT my friends! None of us are friends. My kind are unified in our misery, but do not mistake that for affection or even cooperation amongst ourselves.”

  “Fine!” I snap. “I get it.”

  “No, sadly, you do not get it. And I do not care to spend the eons necessary to explain it to you.”

  I clench my fists and recognize how futile the gesture is. What am I going to do, hit him?

  “You said you know who is killing these people. Just tell me so I can get out of here.”

  Frank stands back up and slowly saunters over to me, completely invading my space. He’s almost nose-to-nose with me again. “This is where we need to make what you would call a deal.”

  “A deal. With a demon.”

  Frank nods. “I will tell you what I know. And you will not tell what you know about me to your coworkers.”

  I mull that over for a second. “That sounds deceptively straightforward.”

  He chuckles. “It always does, does it not? Would you prefer to draft a contract? Sign it in your blood?”

  I scowl at him as he continues. “No, my dear Jacob. If you want to hear what I know, you will agree to these terms. And if you break them, I will turn the full fury of my attention onto you. And I doubt you will survive it long.”

  I’m sure he’s not lying. Swell.

  I nod.

  “I am not the only one of my kind in this sad little city—this place that has tucked itself away from the rest of the world. The creatures here, so assured of their safety, cut themselves away from humanity, and fill up the forgotten cracks and fissures of the world. They imagine themselves immune to the dangers posed by the mundane world. But despite their silly beliefs, they are still mortal. Mortal immortals, ha.”

  Frank laughs to himself, like he’s forgotten I’m in the room with him. He sits back down, leaning back with a self-satisfied air. His eyes blaze with a frightening intensity, the focus of his gaze far away. “We are the true immortals; we have days without end before us. Your undead friends are mere blinks in my lifetime.”

  He focuses his attention back to me, all humor and warmth gone from his eyes. “I am content to hide here and idle away my time. But others of my kind, they find amusement wherever they can. And another has found it here. I wish to be alone, so I will help you.”

  Frank pauses, sizing me up. I don’t know what I would say at this point, so
I wait patiently. Finally, he leans forward, and his next words are barely more than a whisper. “Do you think that these undead neighbors of yours will never pass on to the judgment they deserve? Eventually, they will. And another demon has decided to speed that process along.”

  “But how is he doing it?” I ask. Frank likes to talk, and I want to wrap this up.

  “How do this city’s residents become undead in the first place, Jacob? What have they told you?”

  I think back for a minute. “They say it has something to do with willpower.”

  “Correct,” Frank nods. “Willpower is what keeps their souls tied to this plane. So, how do we then make them leave this plane and move on to the next?”

  “Take away their willpower?” I answer, not even knowing what that means.

  “Exactly. Now you understand.”

  “Huh? No, I don’t understand. You haven’t told me anything.”

  “Have I not? I disagree. I have told you everything.”

  I blink, and he’s standing next to me, whispering in my ear. “Remember our deal, Jacob Green.”

  I blink again, and he’s gone. I’m alone.

  Chapter 31

  What do I do now?

  I can’t process this clearly. More than any other time since I found myself here, I feel helpless and alone. I desperately want to talk to someone. But I have no family, no friends I can turn to.

  I’m still in Frank’s room, alone. Dust and neglect cover everything. It’s all I can do to keep from shivering despite the heat. With the doors closed and Frank gone, the room looks abandoned, uninhabited.

  “Are you OK, Detective?” Greystone says to me in my mind.

  I shouldn’t confide my thoughts to anyone here. Not even to Greystone. I’m not one of them. They’re treating me as somewhat of an equal right now, but it could be a temporary attitude that may change at any time. If I’m not careful, I could reveal secrets I’ve managed to keep hidden—even after all that Marsh put me through during my weeks of torment. I could endanger family and friends.

  For the first time, I can’t dredge up the resolve to care enough to stay silent.