by Eddie Jakes
The sounds of the drums overwhelmed his mind and he could no longer speak the words needed to command his magic. He fell to his knees, exhausted and in pain.
The drums stopped and Krazek opened his eyes to find ghostly apparitions had surrounded him. No, not ghosts. He felt in his soul that these were something else. They possessed human bodies, each with the heads of different animals.
These were the spirits that the natives worshiped and commanded. He had been beaten by them; called upon by that strange Shaman, who had now vanished from sight.
"Kill me then!" he shouted. "Take your prize!"
A spirit with the head of an eagle approached him. He held a tiny ax in one of his hands, decorated with strange markings that Krazek had never seen. Fear dawned on him when he realized that the spirits intended to do just what he had told them and scalp his head as a prize.
"Wait," said Krazek. "No! Please!"
The eagle spirit raised his ax in the air and brought it down hard. Krazek's screams were heard throughout the lands. The fear of death was in the air, but when the screaming stopped there was nothing.
Krazek was alive but broken. The spirits, the Shaman, and the fire were all gone.
It was on that day, the most powerful wizard in the world broke down and cried.
And he would never forget that humiliation.
The tower that the sorcerer called home was unimpressive to Maddix to say the least. The Statsnys nor any other skilled tradespeople in Malevolent had built it, but by the wizard himself. He considered himself to be of a caliber so great that to accept help from any lowly creature was an obscene concept. So instead, he laid each brick himself, built every piece of furniture, and carved every decoration. It showed, too. Each brick was chipped and worn, and preventative maintenance was not on the agenda for this lone wizard.
The tower itself was fairly tall and leaned to the left. Not so much that it was in any danger of tipping, but enough to make anyone think twice about climbing to the top floor. It wasn't life-threatening height wise, but having a few thousand pounds of brick and mortar come crashing down on top of you was more of a concern to most reasonable people.
Maddix approached the tower with his two new constable friends. He liked this idea of working together. They were all in the same boat now, and tragedy often makes strange bedfellows. Better than sharing coffins, he reminded himself.
The door was in bad shape, with rotted wood and rusted metal holding it together, and a wolf-shaped knocker in the center. Maddix was almost afraid to use it in case the door couldn't stand the pounding. Nevertheless, he did knock on the door and it stayed intact.
Expectedly, the door opened on its own. Krazek was known for creepy theatrics in place of real magic, and his home was rigged to react a certain way to maintain a certain level of fear in the realm. It never actually worked.
The first floor was surprisingly clean and every piece of furniture was well-built and maintained. It was a total contrast to the outside view.
"Come in, Overseer," said a creepy voice from nowhere.
Maddix was unimpressed. "I don't have time for games. I need to ask you some things."
"Of course."
After instructing the constables to wait outside, Maddix walked into the tower. Making his way down a wooden staircase was Krazek. He was older looking than Maddix remembered. His eyes appeared sunken in and frail.
"Good day, Overseer," Krazek greeted. "So pleased that you are granting me such a gracious visit. Care for some tea? My living area is just upstairs."
"No thanks, I just have a few questions. Won't be staying long."
"Understandable. But if you wouldn't mind accompanying me upstairs anyway, it is my tea time and I have a pot ready."
Maddix didn't like the idea of using the wizard's homemade stairs, but he agreed anyway.
The living space was an isolationists dream. There was barely a window to be found and many different candles lighted the whole area. Two plush chairs were arranged on either side of a tiny table with a tea service place on top. The steam from the teapot smelled delicious. Maddix was more of a coffee person, but he did know when he smelled some gourmet tea.
Krazek invited Maddix to sit with him, and he poured himself a cup. He made one more offer of tea that Maddix politely declined again, noting to himself that two cups were already laid out on the service.
"Were you expecting company today?" asked Maddix.
"Not at all, but I feel like it is better to be prepared. I would hate to have company show up unannounced and not have a place for them."
Maddix wasn't in the mood for much small talk. "Do you know why I'm here?"
"I would think that would be my question," laughed Krazek. "But I imagine you are here about those killings."
"You know about them then?"
"Oh yes, quite well. I keep my ear to the ground. You suspect magic is involved. Otherwise, you would not be here."
"That's about right."
Krazek put his cup down and folded his fingers over his belly. "I can tell you that I have no involvement in this. Let us just get that out of the way."
"I'm not making accusations. Just looking for information."
"Of course you are. I assume some of the inhabitants are starting to question your authority here. I noticed you brought armed escorts with you."
"Not at all," said Maddix. "Everyone has been very cooperative."
"Excellent," boasted Krazek. "Then ask your questions, Overseer. I am here to serve."
"I'll cut to the chase. There is something really wrong with the magic in this place. You are the only resident here that dabbles in magic. I need to know what you know."
Krazek's smile went ear-to-ear. To say that he was delighted to see a weakening of authority was an understatement. "As I said before, I have nothing to do with what is going on out there. I am powerless here, as you already know."
"So you say. Give me some speculation then."
Krazek paused. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds, but it seemed longer. "What do you know about the magic here?"
"I only know that it is a part of the pact, and it protects myself from danger so that I can freely keep watch."
"No."
"No?" Maddix raised an eyebrow.
"Not exactly. The pact is why you are here. The magic itself comes from the gate."
Maddix knew the gate well. It was the doorway in and out of the realm. "Go on."
"How much do you know about me … Benbrook is it?"
"I know enough. You dabbled in the black arts and murdered thousands."
"Dabbled?" Krazek's eyes narrowed. "I harnessed the black arts and shaped them to do my bidding. Magicians dabble, Overseer, I command!"
"Used to command."
Krazek composed himself. "Touché."
"Enough with the pissing contest. Get to the point."
"As you already know, I was the most powerful of the sorcerers. Many tried to challenge me and steal my power, but all failed. I was the last, or so I thought. The first great purge had forced me into seclusion like the others that rot in this prison. I saw the new world as an opportunity to keep domain over mankind. To my surprise, the savages there possessed a power, unlike anything I had ever seen."
"Yet you called them savages?"
"They were! Simpletons and peasants, all of them! They didn't deserve the gifts they possessed. It should have been mine!"
"So you tried to kill them all like a jealous child because you wanted their toys?"
The man disgusted Maddix, and that became worse as they spoke.
"Not quite. I used all of my knowledge to take their power, but nothing worked. It was not magic at all. I learned it too late—they were speaking with gods. Nature was their weapon. It was this knowledge that helped build this place and construct the gate, an amalgamation of steel and fervent spiritual power! That is why I cannot cast in this realm and the prisoners cannot harm you. You are protected by spirits conjured by savag
es, and they are bound to that gate."
"That doesn't make sense. Why aren't the constables guarded as I am? Why do they have to wear those badges of theirs?"
"I do not know the answer to that, but I can tell you that it is dark magic contained within each one of them. I can feel it when they are around. Possibly Egyptian magic created by ancient necromancers."
"Yes," Maddix began, "but they are getting killed out there. My assistant and I have both been attacked. Something is not right."
"And I have no real answers for you. As long as the gate remains locked, the magic will remain in effect, and no one knows how to unlock the gate."
"Well then," said Maddix, standing up. "I guess there is nothing else to say."
"Then I bid you good day."
Maddix walked toward the door but stopped short to look at Krazek.
"Just one more question … I read somewhere that they had some resistance when first creating the prison."
"Your point?" inquired Krazek.
"I'm pretty sure that I read something about you being a big part of that resistance. That you had infiltrated the Founding Fathers and learned about the plan to banish all of you."
"Skewered history, Overseer Benbrook. I merely overheard the drunken ramblings of a pathetic man in a tavern trying to forget his troubles at the bottom of a pint."
"My mistake then," said Maddix. "Bye for now."
CHAPTER SEVEN
When Maddix walked out of the wizard's home, he found that he had trusted him less than he already had. It was obvious that even in his imprisoned life in Malevolent, the man was still a megalomaniac with delusions of being a god amongst sheep. He had more knowledge than he was letting on, though. Maddix was sure of that. The history books weren't anything if not at least accurate. Did he know about the key? He hoped not because that would be a problem.
He wanted to get back to the station immediately. The situation was grimmer if the wizard had found a way to take advantage of the situation and find the key. Not that Krazek could find it if he wanted to, Maddix made sure of that. In the meantime, he needed to take his armed escorts and update them on the way.
"Come on, guys, let's get back to the station and … guys?"
The two constables were standing directly in front of Maddix as their bodies began to spasm. Maddix could see the wasps firmly attached to the constables' necks with their long stingers tearing into the back of their heads. He watched in disgust as they began to burrow their way through the newly formed holes opened up by the vicious stingers. Once completely inside, the constables’ bodies went completely rigid for a few seconds followed by a cracking of neck bone.
"Talk to me, fellas. Can you hear me?"
Following the sound of his voice, the two men turned to face him. Their eyes were clouded over, as the others were, and the expressions on their faces were like that of a zombie.
"Shit!"
Maddix sprinted around them and ran for the town as fast as his legs would take him. Behind him, the constables gave chase. Occasionally, each one would slow and begin to grab at his head in pain. No doubt due to the mutant-like wasps burrowing deep into their skulls, or whatever it was those things were doing to them.
There was no way that Maddix could keep the pace up for long. The days had been so trying and he was still sore all over. Should he turn and fight? He couldn't kill them, could he? What if they could be saved? All these things raced through his mind.
Sorry, guys, he thought. There was too much at stake to risk it. He reached into his coat for his gun, but when he turned to aim the constables instead tackled him to the ground and sent his pistol flying from his hands.
They began to wildly pound on Maddix's face and torso like crazed gorillas. The pain gave away to numbness and the taste of blood seeped into his mouth. He felt like he would lose consciousness at any moment. His vision was becoming dark and death would be inevitable if he succumbed to the savage beating he was taking. There was something tickling his senses when he fought to take a breath. The air was so moist and smelled of dead fish. He was next to the lake!
Maddix opened his eyes, trying to deflect the blows as much as possible. He had one shot to save himself. Everything was a blur, but through his foggy vision he could see specks of gold. He mustered every last ounce of will left, grabbed the constables' badges for dear life, and pulled hard. At first they wouldn't budge, but the spastic force of the constables attacks and what little strength Maddix could spare, the fabric began to tear on their uniforms.
The final ripping sound was music to his ears as he fell flat on his back with a badge in each hand. The croaking sound grew louder and sets of eyes popped up all over the lake.
With almost lightning speed, the two constables were snatched off of Maddix by a pack of amphibious lake monsters. They immediately started to devour their prey as if it was their first meal in years, and to some extent it was.
Maddix picked himself up from the ground, tripping twice the whole way up. He watched as the scaly green creatures ripped the constables to pieces. There was blood and fragments of chewed bones spread everywhere as they slurped every last bit of flesh from the bodies.
"Considering the circumstances," said Maddix, while spitting blood onto the ground, "I grant you guys a full pardon."
Doing the daily logging of paperwork wasn't something that Javier enjoyed as chief. Every day he was required to keep a journal of the day-to-day operations, and they were usually pretty uneventful. He considered them a waste of time and often wondered who it was that had established the policies and procedures. The Founding Fathers no doubt, but who were they, really? Not knowing more about the people that chose him for this job was starting to weigh on him more than usual. He would find out soon enough he supposed.
His usual one paragraph log entry had grown into a full-length manuscript detailing everything they knew up to that point. The random zombie attacks to the other monsters trying to kill Maddix and Tara with these strange bugs connecting them. Tanya had managed to wrestle that captured zombie to the ground long enough for Javier to find one of the strange bugs Maddix had been rambling about. It was swimming inside the slimy remains of the flesh eater’s brain and he was able to pull it out, but in doing so both the zombie and the bug died.
Something about these wasps made it possible to control the minds of zombies and werewolves alike. Could it control humans in the same way? Javier didn't even want to think about that.
There was also the situation with that dead vampire. Was this connected to what happened? Statsny must have encountered someone infected by these demon bugs and killed him somehow. So many theories danced in Javier's brain, but there was a missing link to everything that he just couldn't put his finger on.
Benbrook would have to take action now before all of them were killed off one by one. He had to know how to get them all out of that damned prison and warn the Founding Fathers about what was transpiring. Why would they have even agreed to let them all live in the first place? They had them trapped like fish in a barrel, why not just kill them all then? They were all vicious killers spawned from Satan and none of them was worth keeping alive. But Tanya—
"Constable Larouche?" called a gentle voice through the open door to his office.
"Please, come in," Javier replied nervously.
She took a seat across from Javier and smiled. He was starting to have regrets about his thoughts of genocide. Tanya had made a promise to save his men and she honored it without any resistance. She was different from others that he had encountered in Malevolent. She was fierce but compassionate at the same time. She was also very beautiful and he found himself becoming increasingly attracted to her the more time they spent together. Dissecting zombies was a bonding experience apparently because they spent more time laughing about it than anything else. Life was smacking Javier in the face with a hard dose of irony.
"If you are here for the deceased member of your pack, I have already given the authorization. My men wi
ll be more than happy to help you with transport."
"Thank you, Constable. That is not why I came in to see you. I actually came to ask if you are okay."
"Okay?" Javier didn't have the words to respond. He hadn't expected that kind of humanity from a werewolf pack leader.
"Yes. After the fight, you seemed lost for a moment, as if you had just lost a child. I wanted to say that I understand. I share those same connections with my people as you do with yours."
"Well," said Larouche, trying to sound professional, "it is my duty. I have a responsibility to my men."
"It's more than that. To you, they are everything. They make up your entire existence, like family."
This was craziness. She was a prisoner and he was her jailer. He couldn't be falling for a monster and she couldn't possibly be falling for him. Or could she? She was human once, maybe the humanity was still there and the excitement of what was happening brought it all out? Who knew, but it was obvious that there was something there.
"It's okay." Tanya stood from her seat. "You must be strong; I get that. I just wanted to thank you."
"For what, madam? It is I who should be thanking you, no?"
"You have all the power over me, and yet you gave me your trust and honored that trust. Despite our differences, I respect that."
Tanya turned to leave. Javier quickly rose from his seat, knocking his chair back against the wall. She turned and laughed at his awkwardness.
"Uh," Javier composed himself. "If there is anything more the constables can do for you …"
Smiling, she winked at him. "I will come to see you first, Constable Larouche."
She walked away grinning like a teenager with a crush.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Every step that Maddix took caused shockwaves of pain throughout his entire body. The parts of him that hadn't bruised had at least swollen so much that it was hard to move without setting his nerves on fire. A severe blow to his face had caused his right eye to swell so bad that he could only see a small sliver of light in front of him. He tried to force it open but the pain was just too much, and so he stopped fighting it and dealt with the partial blindness as best as he could.