by C. T. Phipps
“Bark!” Cujo said.
“He didn’t like Nancy either,” I replied. “Or Gerald.”
“Keep that in mind,” Carrie said. “Dogs can detect evil.”
“Arf!” Cujo said.
“It trusts us,” I replied. “We’re not exactly Girl Scouts.”
“I would have joined the Girl Scouts,” Carrie replied, frowning. It was a rare moment of honesty from her. “Cookies are better than murder.”
“Agreed,” I said, thinking about the life we’d missed and never would have anything approximating.
“Guys, please come over here,” Nancy said. “It’s alright, she’s not going to bite.”
“Grrr,” Cujo said, keeping his eyes focused on Cassie.
I reluctantly walked forward as my sister followed behind. “You’ll forgive my caution but when preparing a suicidal attack against an enemy position, I tend to prefer to have the element of surprise.”
“I’m afraid you’ve lost that,” Cassie said. “My uncle Aiden already knows you’re coming. He’s told everyone to keep an eye out for you and has offered a reward to whatever agents find you first.”
“Ironic,” I said, realizing that we might have gained an advantage by being revealed. We’d also been exposed. “How did you find us?”
Cassie lifted a small clipping of hair wrapped in a bow. “This is from our sorority scrapbook. It means I can track any of us.”
Nancy grabbed it from her hands and pulled out a cigarette lighter before setting it on fire. “I hate magic.”
“It’s useful when you’re the one who has it,” Carrie said, staring at Cassie. “Why are we not stabbing her?”
“She wants to help,” Nancy said. “Cassie says she can lead us to a secret entrance in the back that won’t be guarded. We can hit the compound without issue.”
“This sounds suspiciously like the plot to Return of the Jedi,” I replied. “It was a trap there too.”
Hopefully, there would be less teddy bears here. If they ever did sequels, I hoped they understood the secret to the movies was not being too silly and relying on special effects instead of strong character writing. I’d heard they’d done a prequel and figured that since it was written by George Lucas, he’d keep these principles in mind.
“It’s not a trap,” Nancy said. “If it was, we’d already be dead.”
“That’s what someone setting a trap would want us to think,” Carrie said, nodding. “Which I know that you know that she knows.”
“Carrie, are you on drugs?” Nancy asked, sighing.
“Nope, just crazy,” Carrie said. “Though doctors don’t like to use that term anymore. Unfortunately, there’s not really a term for hearing voices from eldritch horrors from beyond time and space. I mean, homicidal paranoid schizophrenia only goes so far.”
Cassie looked at Nancy. “Real bunch of winners you’ve got here. I can see you’ve assembled a crack team of America’s best.”
“You are very rude!” Gerald called from inside his bag, still in the van.
“They’ve saved my life multiple times,” Nancy said, not looking at Cassie. “I trust them with my life.”
“Which means you’re as crazy as the rest of us,” Carrie said before pointing at Cassie. “But as crazy as I am, isn’t she one of the bad guys? Badder guys? Worst guys?”
Cassie frowned. “I never in my wildest dreams knew my father and uncle would attempt to kidnap my friends for one of their sick rituals. I’m not marrying my fiancé of my own free will, it’s part of their plan to unite two of the wealthiest families in America. The Cassidys and the Hawthornes will join on the eve of fixing the US Presidential election.”
“Our cousin is going to win, right?” Carrie asked. “Please say yes.”
Cassie blinked. “I’m under several geas to assist them in all of this but the only reason I haven’t had my brain entirely screwed with is they’ve let their guard down with me. You have no idea what it’s like to have family who want to literally control your mind. Family that you’re nothing more than a possession of.”
“Yes, we have no idea what that’s like,” I said, believing some of her story but not all of it. “You look familiar.”
“I’ve been on TV a lot,” Cassie said. “Believe me, I’d rather not be. Apparently, playing the role of an American princess is part of their role for me.”
That wasn’t where I’d seen her before. I’d seen her at H.P. Lovecraft’s Memorial Hospital, dressed as a nurse and talking with the doctors there, particularly the director. She wasn’t part of the staff but disguised as one for the meetings. I had no idea why a billionaire’s daughter would be in one of the most criminally abusive institutions in the world, but I was certain of it now.
A part of me wanted to confront her with her lie but I, instead, kept the information to myself. It would be more useful to hide it and let her think she had me fooled. The thing was that Nancy had a right to know and she was clearly giving her friend the benefit of the doubt. Why, though? Maybe it was something I would have understood better if I’d had friends other than Wilson.
“Alright?” I asked, pretending to believe her. “How did you slip your bonds?”
Cassie crossed her arms and looked at the ground. “It wasn’t easy. The Cassidy family has numerous pacts with the Red Gods, dating back to Celtic times. They have to be renewed between Samhain and the Winter Solstice with a tithe to Hell. I think when Nancy was sacrificed but came back to life, it disrupted their magic enough that I was able to regain most of my free will. Accent on most.”
“What’s most of your free will?” I asked. “I feel like that’s not something you can put a qualifier on. You either have it or you don’t.”
“William!” Nancy said.
I didn’t take back my question and waited for her response.
“If I had all of my free will back, I’d have stabbed my father to death and set my uncle on fire before unleashing a horde of zombies on the compound,” Cassie said.
Nancy blinked. “Okay, that’s a bit darker than I expected.”
“Why?” Cassie asked.
Okay, I was starting to like this woman. Not like-like but perhaps entertained by enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. “Can you do that?”
“I’ve always loved necromancy,” Cassie said. “I got a degree in hematology and business both while studying it on the side. The trick is to make the best deal possible for the least amount of your soul.”
“Aroo?” Cujo asked.
“So, what can you do?” I asked, feeling like I was repeating a conversation Nancy had just had minutes before.
Cassie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I can lead you to the others. All of the prisoners, through the escape tunnel.”
“Escape tunnel,” I said, not believing what she was saying.
“The idiots who designed the Fraternity’s lair made an exit for their guests to flee out of during an emergency,” Cassie said. “They didn’t think that a tunnel used to get out could be used to get in. At least for slashers. I can open the doors and show you the entrance. From there, it’s a smooth ride straight to the dungeon. As long as I don’t, myself, try to rescue the prisoners then I’m not violating the letter of my oath.”
“This seems pretty violating,” Nancy said. “Are you sure you’re not leading us into a trap.”
Cassie frowned. “Believe me, I have my reasons for doing what I’m doing.”
“Rescuing your friends?” I asked.
“Revenge,” Cassie said, looking at Carrie. “I want you to kill my father and uncle in exchange for my help. Can you help me with that?”
“Cassie!” Nancy said, sounding shocked.
“Well, now I believe her,” Carrie replied. “And sure! Killing old guys is easy!”
“Oof,” Cujo said, covering his face with his paw.
“You need to believe me,” Cassie looked into my eyes. “Really.”
A strange aura radiated out from her and I felt magic
being used. However, the effects seemed minimal other than making her look a bit more “sparkly” for lack of a better word. It confused me rather than affected my feelings.
It’s a fairy glamour, the Spirit of the Hunt said. It makes subjects more attractive and individuals more inclined to do what they say. You’re immune, though. It requires a base level of desire or submissiveness to work.
Is it being used on Nancy? I asked.
That would be telling, the Spirit of the Hunt said. Remember, I’m not your friend. I’m more the director of the movie you co-star in.
Believe me, I’m unlikely to forget, I replied.
“We have to help her!” Carrie said, making me think the glamour had worked on her as well. “This mysterious femme fatale who is not suspicious at all!”
Or maybe not.
Nancy stepped between Cassie and me. “Listen, I know this is hard to believe—”
“You think?” I interrupted.
Nancy frowned. “But I believe her. Cassie was a friend to me when I didn’t have any others in the world. She was the first real sister I’d had, which says a lot about my relationship with Summer. Cassie helped fund our sorority and assemble it. She’s the one who made it a place where women could defend themselves. She wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t trying to help us.”
Unless, of course, she was trying to raise a bunch of sacrifices for her father’s weird murder cult. The presence of two Artemises and a group of women trained in combat seemed to imply that it required someone who could fight back, even if they were hopelessly outnumbered. It was also possible, even if she was an innocent, to be unable to disobey her uncle’s commands. Finally, even if that wasn’t the case, a big if, there was also the fact that any sane security force would have such a big weakness as an escape tunnel heavily guarded. Certainly, it would be monitored beyond merely a locked door or two. I felt I should bring up all these objections but, instead, I said, “Alright, we’ll go with your plan.”
“Thank you,” Cassie said, beaming brightly. “You won’t regret it.”
“Of course,” I said, already regretting it.
Why am I doing this? I asked the Spirit of the Hunt.
It’s more fun this way, the Spirit of the Hunt replied. Practicality often gets in the way of a good slaughter.
I decided to get my brain warded against her interference.
I heard that, the Spirit of the Hunt said.
Before I could say more, a highway patrol car pulled up behind Cassie’s hot pink Ferrari. Two officers stepped out, both drawing their guns. They were ordinary but athletic looking men but they seemed unusually well-prepared for someone who’d randomly come across two escaped mental patients as well as an heiress.
“Stand right where you are!” one of them said.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” The second said.
Not very original, were they? I sensed the blood on the hands of both, though. Not much but enough to know they were very dirty cops and had turned a blind eye to the disappearance of hitchhikers, transients, and even the occasional minority. They feared their current employer, and only this combined with ample payoffs kept them from calling the Feds.
That was when Cassie turned around. I saw a Zeus-75 handgun in her back pocket. Basically, a Pantheon Corp made Desert Eagle knock off. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this.”
“Wait—” Nancy started to say.
“Gentleman, everything is fine!” Cassie said, immediately pulling her gun and shooting both in the head.
“What the frick!” Nancy shouted, having returned to no longer swearing. “What the heck, Cassie?”
Cassie walked to the back of the police cruiser and opened the door, pulling out a pair of animal masks. A fox and a rabbit. “These were cultists of the Fraternity. Paid soldiers. I told you they were looking for you.”
“Oh,” Nancy said. “I see.”
“Well, I trust you now,” Cassie said. “This time for real. Murder is a great way to bond with a new group.”
Nancy glared at her.
“What?” Cassie asked. “It’s how you did with us.”
Nancy didn’t look happy about that comparison.
I knew, looking at Cassie’s soul, that she’d arranged this demonstration so we would trust her. Cassie was a now a murderer and a very dangerous enemy. But for us or the Fraternity?
“There’s a pig farm nearby where we can dump the bodies,” Cassie said. “The owners accept cash and I have plenty. We’ve got only a little daylight left. The other slashers come at night.”
“Jesus,” Nancy muttered. Apparently, unlike other swears, that counted as a prayer.
“Has nothing to do with this,” Cassie said.
On that, we agreed.
Chapter Nineteen
The location of the “secret entrance” was a few acres closer to the compound and something I’d missed driving to the cell phone tower. It was a metal hatch hidden underneath a billboard advertising Hephaestus cigarettes. The billboard had the image of a big brawny man carrying a hammer, surrounded by many barely dressed women in something I wasn’t quite sure advertised either the benefits of smoking or clearly communicated the product in general.
We’d disposed of the police cruiser in a manner that probably wasn’t going to fool anyone but just driving it into a nearby cornfield a few miles away. Criminal genius it wasn’t but we were burning daylight and it wasn’t like I was worried about being arrested for any new crimes. Indeed, the biggest issue was that cop-killers weren’t usually taken alive and I had no doubt that Cassie Cassidy would throw us under the bus to protect herself.
This entire experience had changed my opinion of how slashers worked in the world. I’d originally thought myself quite well-educated in their activities, but they were organized and had hosts of minions spread across the globe. I didn’t know what they offered to the super-wealthy and powerful, though vampire blood and sanguine entertainment certainly explained a good chunk of it.
Whatever the case, they weren’t the individual predators that my father had given the impression, of and even if we managed to escape from the compound with their prey, it would just be the beginning of a very long struggle. Slashers never abandoned their hunts and it was likely that we’d be drawing down a whole host of them on us if we deprived them this hunt. That wasn’t enough to dissuade me—far from it—but it did put matters into perspective. We’d barely managed to beat Billy and that had been on the ultimate “home turf” with it taking place in my sister’s brain.
We were now walking into their lair and one that had been specifically designed around their specifications. Worse, we were doing it on the word and at the direction of someone who had already proven untrustworthy. Nancy had continued to insist we should follow Cassie and I was willing to go along with it. I wondered if that made me a bigger fool. Nancy, at least, had the excuse of wanting to believe the best of her sorority sister and having the lives of her other sisters depend on Cassie’s help. What was my excuse?
I was sitting behind the wheel of the church bus with Gerald still under the first row of passenger seats and Cujo sitting on top of it. Cassie and Carrie were out in front of the vehicle, checking for the entrance while Nancy sat in the front passenger seat beside me. The two of us hadn’t spoken more than a few words to one another since the murder of the police officers, Fraternity cultists or not.
Nancy was avoiding my gaze, looking out the window and slouched over as if not willing to sit up straight. “Listen, I know you don’t like her.”
“Why would you think that?” I replied, confused.
Nancy looked at me. “Wait, was that sarcasm or not? It’s hard to tell since you always speak in the same tone.”
I frowned. “Yes, it was sarcasm. I do not like her at all.”
Nancy frowned. “They were cultists.”
“I’m aware,” I replied. “She also lured them here to kill.”
Nancy didn’t respond for a second. “You know this f
or sure?”
I tapped the side of my head with two fingers. “It’s a kind of magic.”
“Queen sang that song,” Nancy said. “Freddy Mercury’s loss was a loss to us all. I had such a crush on him when I was eleven.”
“I don’t know who that is,” I said. “I am looking forward to learning about all the things I missed out in the asylum, though.”
“In-between murdering people?” Nancy asked.
“Murdering killers, yes,” I replied.
Cassie’s body was now covered in the same blood that compelled me to kill the meth dealers and Charles Devinshire. Her victims hadn’t been good people, but that didn’t affect the blood on her body. I also knew that she’d been excited by the spilling of blood and would kill again. The question was whether she’d restrict herself to those who deserved it. Even so, her bloodshed called to me to vengeance and it was a constant scratching at the back of my mind to kill her for her sins. In a way, it was an interesting test of my condition since it turned out I could resist the urge if I wanted to. I wondered if it was because I didn’t displease Nancy, Cassie’s victims had “deserved” it, or I was growing stronger. I supposed that there was no reason it couldn’t be a combination of all three reasons.
“She’s a victim too,” Nancy said. “I mean could you imagine having your mind-controlled? To be forced to marry someone against your will?”
“Yes,” I said. “I imagine I could.”
“This will help us get in and out alive,” Nancy said, reaching over to turn the radio on. “If Ya Wannabe My Lover” by the Spice Girls started to play. “Isn’t that what’s most important?”
“If you say so.” Not a fan of said song, I turned the channel. “Poison” by Alice Cooper started to play instead.
Nancy turned the channel again. “They’re Coming to Take Me Away Again” by Napoleon XIV started playing. “Is it just me or is this a bunch of suspiciously appropriate songs for our situation?”
“It’s probably just a mild case of apophenia,” I replied. “That’s the condition of seeing patterns and connections that aren’t actually there. It’s considered one of the beginning stages of schizophrenia. It took me years to realize that I wasn’t being paranoid, and the asylum really was an illegal government black site for studying superhumans.”