Blood & Spirits

by Dennis Sharpe

  Slogging my way through the mud, I make my way slowly over to the overflow tunnels and start to head down. I’m actually adjusting to the rancid smell that hits me as I enter.

  At the bottom of the steps I’m back in the large open space where all of these tunnels converge, a sort of cathedral to all the filth that gets washed down the drains, off the streets, and out of the public places of the living. The ceiling is over fifteen feet up from the groove in the center of the floor I’m standing in. I’m a bit overwhelmed by the enormity of this place, where the dead and rotting things are washed away to.

  I only get a few paces out from the steps I came down before I see him, and he’s not alone. He’s on a platform that overlooks most of the chamber I’m standing in. Cables have been slung haphazardly up and around the support beams to provide power for the lights dangling down over the table they’re sitting at. There’re probably half a dozen of them there with him and a few of them are far too well-dressed to be in a place like this. They’re intensely focused on their conversation but the echo in here is keeping me from making out what they’re saying. No matter what the reason is, it’s still strange to see him with people like that.

  He sees me and stands, calling a halt to the conversation and bringing all their eyes on me. I could swear I recognize a few of them, but I just can’t place from where. He’s down the ladder in moments and moving quickly in my direction, though I really wish he wasn’t, trying to make his loose fitting skin contort into a smile.

  The rotting mass is bolder than ever, taking me physically in his arms and rubbing on me as a greeting. I don’t want to think about what the liquid was that I feel running down my leg as he squeezes me tightly. I’m nearly at my breaking point with this when he finally lets me down to stand in front of him.

  “Hello, pet. I heard your hunting dog got shot. Has he been put down yet?” And I almost ruin the plan by taking his head off right there.

  “You’re not talking about Frank, are you?”

  “I forget sometimes that you still attach undue value to the living, I apologize.” The word falls out of his mouth like he’s allergic to it.

  I look up at the men sitting at the table above us, and then lower my eyes back to him, leaning forward slightly before continuing our conversation. I never thought about there being an audience for this.

  “You said you’d meet with me because I needed help. I’ve had a lot of things happening lately. Like my life is coming apart. How much of what’s happened do you know?” I put a pouting lilt in my voice as I look up at him.

  “I know that you’re not safe here. You haven’t been safe for quite some time now. Many forces have risen against you on all sides.” He tries to sound concerned for my well being, like we haven’t met before.

  Taking my hand and practically dragging me with him we walk further down into the tunnels. I never realized how big these tunnels actually are.

  “You’re problem, pet, is that you are without a place. You are an orphan to your own kind and they distrust and shun you, but the living have no place for you either, and the spirits, well they can’t exist in your world or you in theirs for very long. You need to belong.” Now he’s starting to turn on the snake oil charm; shame for him I already know not to believe him.

  “They’ve never appreciated you like I could. Never looked at you like I do.” I nod my head at him, looking thoughtful and sad.

  “You’re right. No matter how hard I try, I can’t ever find a way to keep a balance. It’s like I’m straddling the cracks between worlds. And no one thinks I’ve done enough.”

  “You should consider belonging to me or relocating to somewhere less hostile. Pekin isn’t going to be safe for you if you aren’t my property.” He’s pressing harder now. It’s a veiled threat, but it’s getting harder and harder to stick with the plan and agree with him.

  We stop walking at a crack in the tunnel wall where someone has dug back into the dirt behind it. He pushes me in then follows me. There’s a whole room hollowed out in here and once he’s lit the torches I’m a little freaked out. He has all sorts of jars and containers lining the walls and piles of molded ancient books. It really looks like something out of the medieval fantasies of a basement dwelling thirty-something slacker.

  I don’t know if Jules realized all this when he sent me here.

  “What about Jacobi and the Council? They might have a problem with me agreeing to be your property. You aren’t one of us, and Jacobi forbids our kind to be property. Even to each other. It would be against their laws.” My tone is sweet, but questioning.

  “Oh, didn’t you know? Jacobi is dead.” He pulls me close to his face and does his best to show me the monster he can be, growling at me. “I had him killed. Your warning to him about the massing spirits fell on deaf ears, thankfully. You see, I needed the blood of one your kind. Specifically, it needed to be as old as possible. I have a ritual that I must perform to bring my plans to fruition and ultimately, my survival is far more valuable to me than his life, even if he was kinder to me than so many other blood drinking egomaniacs I’ve had to deal with.” He’s handling me like a stuffed animal. Gone is all pretense of nicety.

  He’s admitted to killing the Eldest of the Council. I can have them all after him now. I guess this is what Jules meant, and why he wanted me to go along with him. How else would I have found out?

  “When Learner finds out you killed Jacobi he’ll bring a war to your doorstep.”

  “Learner is too stupid to be a threat, and already dead, for all practical intents and purposes.” I hate to admit it, but I have to agree with him on this one, out of principle if nothing else.

  “That’s just another reason why you are better off as mine. Learner trusts the help I’m giving him as we look into his uncle’s disappearance. I suggested at our first meeting that you might be involved. He took to that idea instantly and now you are his only suspect. As far as he’s concerned he just has to uncover the evidence to take to his Council and your life is over.”

  “You set me up with Learner? Why would that make me feel safer with you?”

  “Because it’s yet another way I can protect you now. Once I provide Learner with evidence that you were not involved in Jacobi’s disappearance he’ll want you dead, disposed of quietly. He’ll do it, if for no other reason than his desire to keep you from telling the Council how he wrongfully accused you, and risk losing face. At that point he’ll agree to my owning you in a heartbeat. No matter what his uncle said about such things.”

  It’s starting to become clear that he’s had this ‘owning me’ thing in his head for a while now. Why I didn’t listen to Frank earlier is beyond me, making me want to kick myself.

  He picks up a wooden crate and sits it on the table next to me, leering at me.

  “If you tell Learner that I’m not involved in Jacobi’s death, he’s going to want to know who was. You’re going to have to give him something.”

  “I’ve already prepared for that, pet. I’ll tell him that I’ve discovered it was actually the spirits, like your Lucy, who moved against his precious blood drinking families, and that they have slain his uncle. I’ll have Lucy admit it to him herself. After that he’ll help me in any way he can to destroy them. Better still he’ll assure me the aid of his precious Council. That will be the death of them all.”

  He opens the box and takes out a massive iron ring, a collar covered in runes and carvings. I’ve seen it before, or one just like it, on Lucy’s neck in that cage at the funeral home. Does that mean he’s behind Lucy being held by those things as well?

  “I only kept him alive this long to keep you busy and to try to get rid of that other nocturnal nuisance that showed up in town pushing my spirits around. Thankfully you brought him to me and let me trap him.” He sits the thick iron restraint down on top of the box and smiles.

  “The charm you gave Garret…”

  “Was fake? Didn’t work?” His eyes are almost glowing with joy telling me this. “
That’s right. You took him to my prison for me, and left him there to die. I do have to thank you for that. It’s just another good example of the work we could do together if you were mine.”

  There’s no way he would be this bold if he thought I had any chance of walking out of here. I don’t know the aces up his sleeve, but they have to be there. Jules said to agree to whatever he asks of me, but that is getting harder to consider doing than it was before.

  “Now he’s sitting in a cold iron cage, next to your Lucy, and that darling little Rachel.” He licks his lips suggestively. “She tastes so sweet, that one. Her purity and fear.”

  He giggles, the titter of a child. I’m going to kill him. If not for Jules, it would be right now. But I know that I can’t keep holding myself back. There is a limit, and when it’s reached I’m just going to explode, but for now I have to keep up the act.

  “You can protect me from the Council and the spirits then?”

  “Of course I can.” He strokes my hair and his rotting skin brushes my face.

  “Can I… Can I see them again? Lucy, Garrett, and Rachel, I mean? If I am yours, and you’re protecting me, can I have them with me?” My voice is trembling, meek and timid.

  He reacts receptively to the weakness that I’m showing him, arrogantly strutting around the room. He wants to feel strong; this weaselly toad is trying to make me feel more fragile than I’ve actually been.

  “I can let you see them. I might even let you pet them and take them for walks. If you are mine, your life will be much easier.” I knew he was sick, but he’s completely insane, turns out.

  “Would you kill someone for me? To keep me safe?”

  He sneers at the question as he pushes me into a chair. He wants to stand over me and gloat. “I wouldn’t have to kill anyone to keep you safe. No one could touch you in my care.”

  “There’s a man who has set me up, gotten warrants for my arrest, and even hired hit men to kill me. His name is Molder.” As soon as I say it my mind spins. I know what he’s going to say before he says it and I feel like a fool.

  He cackles and points around the room. “Molder? Decay? Rot? You have nothing to fear from Mr. Molder. If you are mine, you are his as well.”

  “The last six months or more of nightmares for me and everyone I care about have all been brought on by you?”

  Now he’s so overjoyed he’s dancing around the room, dropping maggots and chucks of flesh as he goes. He steps briefly out into the tunnel and motions someone to come, before stepping back in front of me.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. I killed Hocker and Moran and framed you for their deaths, because I knew a warrant for your arrest would slow you down.”

  Two of the men from the table step into the room, and look at Paco for instruction. Now I know who they are. Geoff Peters and Jerry Atkins, the two local politicians that were clients of mine. The ones who set me up to drive me out of Pekin.

  “My spirits,” he points at Peters and Atkins, “like riding around in their bodies. They’re well connected and live luxurious lives. All they’ve had to do is enjoy themselves and help in your prosecution.”

  He dismisses them with a wave of his hand and then leans in close, right in my face. “Yes, the hit out on you, two hundred thousand dollars, that was me too.”

  I reach out and slide my hands down his legs as I look up at him with wide eyes.

  “I thought you said you wanted to protect me, and for me to be yours. Why would you try to kill me?”

  He takes the bait, but a bit more forcefully than I’d expected. He licks my face and then runs his hands through my hair grabbing handfuls of it to pull me back in my seat, forcing me to look up at him as he stands.

  “It was never my intent to kill you. I simply had to keep you off balance. Keep you struggling, moving in too many directions at once. I had to break you down. If you had been given time to focus, you might have seen what I was doing. I couldn’t have that, now could I? I never wanted you dead though, you must believe that. If you were dead, then how could I own you? How could I make you my slave?”

  I think he interprets my dumbfounded expression as fear of him. I can’t believe all the effort this asshole has gone to, and all the people he’s hurt, to just have me as a slave. I try to shake my mind free enough to make words, but it doesn’t work. Then he breaks the silence for me.

  “I’ve been busy setting you up, but I’ve been busier preparing for more dangerous times ahead. You will be safe with me, and see your loved ones again. You can become my property and live, or you can die like the rest of the bloodsuckers when I fully attain the power of the restless dead in our world. I am about to wield more power than you can imagine, pet. And you can sit at my side. In this.”

  He holds the collar out in front of me, and I get a sinking feeling, knowing he’s going to ask me to put it on, and I have to agree to whatever he wants.

  “This will relieve you of your ability to act in any way I don’t abide. You will follow my orders. You will live, but you will live to serve me. Then I can trust and protect you.”

  I glance down at the floor for a moment considering what Jules said. Would it cover this? He said to agree to whatever terms he put forth. I don’t see that I have a choice. I look back up into Paco’s dead eyes.

  “Okay. You win. I’ll serve you. If you’ll let me see the people I love, and keep me safe, then you can put that thing on me.” The defeat in my voice is genuine.

  “No.”

  I blink a few times, at a complete loss.

  “No? But, I thought that’s what you wanted. For me to…”

  He puts his hands on my lips, stopping me from talking, and then puts my hands on the collar.

  “No, I won’t put it on you and make you my slave. I’d much rather see you put it on yourself, and give yourself to me.” The vile disgusting creature knew how to make anything that was already horrible even worse.

  As I take the collar and put it around my neck, the only thing I can think is, ‘Jules, you said you’d save me. I seriously hope you stick to that.’

  The lock on the collar clicks into place and I can feel my mind, my will, even my emotions being locked inside myself. I can see out, but I have no control.

  CHAPTER 22

  NOTHING WOULD PLEASE ME MORE at this moment than to know I would never have to see the Sikes Funeral Home again. I have absolutely no love for this place, and with the knowledge that Paco is calling the shots here, my feelings for it have gotten a little worse.

  I’m walking up the sidewalk, being led by one of his spirits riding around in the body of some poor soul they’ve destroyed, to the building, because I was told to and I’m just a passenger in my body now.

  The shadows that would have made me nervous before are now opening the door for me. I can’t help but wonder if Jules knew what he was doing or if this was seriously the biggest mistake of my life.

  Paco lets out an almost girly squeal of excitement as I’m walked into the room, clothes in tatters and falling off me, being led by a leash attached to the thick, cold iron collar.

  “Oh it’s so nice to see you like this, Veronica.” Liquid escapes his mouth as his words spill forth with equal parts lust and glee. “Why don’t you come over here and see me?”

  I have no intention of doing that, but my body reacts anyway, a willing puppet to the whims of this disgusting pile of rot. I only get one step forward before he raises his hand, motioning me to stop.

  “On your knees, my lovely little bitch slave. Crawl to me.” He cackles as my body does what it’s told, despite my only thought being holding his throat in my closed fist. He pours on the salt by adding “I’m glad to see you’ve finally learned how to show the proper respect to your betters.”

  Oh my God, dead. He’s just dead. That’s it. Like really real, no coming back from it, dumped through a wood chipper and fed to pigs in three non-adjoining states dead. I just have to get my hands on him. Well, first I have to get control of my hands back. The
n he’s dead.

  “Are you humiliated, my little bitch slave?”

  I will not give him the pleasure of an answer to that. My body, however, decides to do it for me. I hear my voice escape me, “No, master. My only will is to serve your desires. Nothing else matters.”

  I’m beginning to wonder if death isn’t a better option than being a prisoner in your own skin, doing and saying things that are worse than any torture.

  Paco takes the leash and leads me, on my knees, into the back of the funeral home, where it looks like he’s preparing for another of his rituals. He strokes my hair like a dog and then tells me to stand.

  “I believe I told you that you could see your loved ones.” His voice still has that insufferable mocking tone of glee. “I suppose that it really is the least I can do. I don’t think some of them will live much longer.”

  He raises his hand and the room gets darker. The moving shadows gain definition and I can see the glow of their burning eyes. I don’t know what it did but it’s making my skin crawl.

  There must be some sort of shared unspoken communication with the spirits he commands because they leave the room and return in no short order with Rachel, Lucy, Garrett, and Julie. I hadn’t even considered that he might have her soul as well.

  They all look drained and all but Garrett wear collars that match mine. Garrett instead is heavily bound in chains and is walking as much as he’s being dragged.

  I want to run to them. I want to hold them and tell them everything will be just fine, that we’re going to get out of this somehow, but my body doesn’t react. It’s still under his sole control.

  He really is breaking me. He must know the effect that this has on me, because he’s looking at me like he won the lottery. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on before I go completely mad.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see a cat slink into the room, black, lithe, and silent. It makes its way over to me slowly and begins to rub against my leg for attention.