The next day I woke up to a familiar signal. Gretchen called with another horrible progress report. The uprisings were multiplying and so were the murders of young Japanese women. No sign of my father. The only plus was that she didn’t ream me out over the incident with Satoku and Carolyn.
I crawled out of bed with Colossus jumping up my lower legs. I was going to meet the Greek Gods today. I had to get into the office and make a few calls before Socrates showed up. I only had two nice suits, so choosing an outfit was easy. I wanted to look good for the Gods.
My dog and I shared a quick breakfast and I shuffled down the street to the office. I opened the front door and realized I hadn’t helped during my drunken cleaning yesterday. The mess had just been pushed into the corner of the office.
I had reassembled the phone from my desk, but I needed a new computer monitor because mine had been smashed when the spirit had taken the shape of an ogre. Good times. Nah, great times.
I sat down in the wobbly chair at my desk and looked at the phone. No messages or missed calls. I dialed up Rebecca and Roy to check on the progress of their haunted barn.
The phone rang three times and a female voice said, “Hello.”
I fired up my Bogart speak. “Hi, is this Rebecca?”
“It is.”
“Hi Rebecca, this is Mike Merlino. I’m the detective who stopped by your house a few days ago and I just wanted to check in and see how things were going.”
She sniffled. “Well Mike, after we burned the rest of them boxes, things have been a lot calmer around here. I’d like to pay you if it keeps up, but I’m not sure how long to wait to make sure they will never come back. I also don’t know if it was something you had done or my husband burning the boxes.”
“That’s never a guarantee that they won’t come back, unfortunately. In fact, why don’t we just forget about the fee for now?” I was going to make a pile of money from the boxes that they didn’t want, and charging them on top of that seemed a bit cruel. I’ll probably end up giving them a cut of the profit too.
“Really? What if we need you to come back?” She sounded flabbergasted.
“I’ll do it free of charge. I understand what it is like to deal with those spirits. I did find out some interesting historical information if you’d like to hear about it.”
I told Rebecca about the boxes, leaving out the valuation and my intention to auction them off. I felt a bit guilty, but they didn’t need the money nearly as much as I did. I hung up the phone and looked out my patched-up window. Through the cracked glass, I saw a slightly overcast day.
My tie was choking me, so I loosened it as the phone rang. Unidentified number. I waited for it to ring four times before picking up the corded receiver.
Let’s go for another ride, Humphrey. “Hello, Mike Merlino, Private Detective.”
“Well looky at you. A private dick trying to sound tough.”
I faintly recognized the deep male voice as he continued, “I got a job for you. Why don’t you kill yourself?”
“Who is this?” I just needed to hear a few more words.
“It’s the man what’s gonna kill you.”
It was my father.
Chapter 16
ALTHOUGH HIS VOICE was much deeper, almost guttural, his horrible grammar gave him away. The tone was different from when I visited him the other day. I ditched my accent, and said, “And how are you going to do that, tough guy?”
“Oh, I’ve been running with some pretty powerful friends lately. Seems to be that I am much more powerful than you when it comes to harnessing magic. My blood is purer than yours, small fry.”
Oh, fuck me. He knows about our shared bloodline with Merlin. The Red Cavern of demons had gotten to him and cultivated him into a weapon they could use to cause destruction. “I’m not scared of you, old man. Why are you coming after me anyway? Don’t you have better things to do now that you are out of jail?”
He chuckled. “I’m doing this for fun. You think I forget about stuff. When I went away, you ditched me. Come to see me five years after I got sent away and you were still gonna let me rot. It’s going to be a lot of fun.”
I guess he wanted to get into it. “Do you really think I should have visited you? You put fucking cigarette butts out on my arm when I was a little kid. You beat the shit out of my mother.”
“There you go again being a little mama’s boy. That’s called being a real man, toughenin’ you up. Still ain’t gotten rid of the sissy in ya. I’ll help you with that.”
I couldn’t imagine that he had any time to build up a serious magic repertoire in only a few days and dismissed his threats. “Tell you what, big man. You know where I am. Why don’t you stop by for a visit?” I didn’t have permission from the Celtic Gods to commit murder, but I didn’t care. If he showed up here today, I was going to murder that fool.
He spat, and said, “I don’t even need to be there to kick your ass. I’ve already got a hold on you. Look up at the ceiling.”
I peeked up at all the white rafters, except for the one directly above my head. The rectangular white rafter was soaked in red and bowing out. The dam broke and a stinking, thick red liquid with coagulated black chunks came pouring down on my only remaining nice suit and me.
I dropped the receiver on the desk and could hear my father laughing from several feet away. I wiped off the ear and mouthpiece and put it against my head. “Nice cheap trick, asshole. Stop hiding away and get down here for a showdown.”
“I prefer to torture you from a distance. Say goodbye, Mikey.”
The phone receiver took on a mind of its own and jumped out of my hand. It levitated above my desk, almost entrancing me as I stared at the floating object. The receiver quickly moved back and forth and then in a circle.
I sat frozen to my desk chair as the receiver circled my head and lowered. The cord wrapped itself around my neck, again and again, until the base of the phone was pressed against the side of my head.
I gagged, and slobber shot out of the sides of my mouth as I clawed at the wire, trying to get a good grip on it. The cord kept tightening and I got my index finger in between it and my neck. It felt like my finger was being chopped off as I desperately pulled on the death cord.
My head became very dizzy and I fell face first from my chair into the nasty pool of aged blood. The only sound I could hear was my father laughing through the phone as life slowly ebbed from my body. My extremities went numb as my worst nightmare started to come to fruition. The man I wanted to kill more than anyone, was going to kill me instead. A rotten twist of irony if I had ever seen one.
He abused me. He abused my mom. This wasn’t fair. I was supposed to kill him for my mother. I wanted to do it for her. I’m sorry, Mom. Looks like he got me. I’m sorry I failed.
I heard a strange beeping sound and I assumed the hallucinations were starting as bright lights streaked through my eyes. The cord loosened, allowing me to suck in a few precious breaths. The beeping stopped, and the phone cord tightened again, cutting off all the air to my lungs.
Thoughts mashed together in my oxygen-deprived head and one came to the front and center. That beeping was my call waiting and it weakened my father’s hold over the phone. Electronics to the rescue again. The beeping came in again, and the cord loosened.
I had to break the phone. I regained control over my body and banged the side of my head with the phone base attached against my solid desk. It was knocking me senseless, and my father’s exuberant laughter made me think that he still had the upper hand.
I was about to knock myself out when the solution struck me like a bolt of lightning. I reached up and squeezed the input for the cord into the phone base. I pinched as hard as I could and yanked the wire away.
It came out of the base, and finally the cord went limp. I untangled it from around my neck and threw the phone to the side. Leaning back against my desk, I wondered how my father had built up that much magical knowledge in only a few days. Unless the Red Cavern h
ad been recruiting and teaching him for a while.
Crazy thoughts ran through my head about my father and what had just happened. A firm knock thumped against the door.
Socrates.
Chapter 17
I JUMPED UP FROM THE floor and almost fell back down from my equilibrium being off and the pool of blood on the ground. I put my hand on my desk to steady myself, waited a few moments, and went to the door. A werewolf in a chauffeur outfit knocked again.
My chest heaved in and out from the supernatural fight with my father. My mind was scrambled, but I needed to go forward with this meeting and process what had just happened a few minutes ago.
I opened the door and the werewolf spoke in a gruff tone, “Socrates. He’s waiting to take you to see the Gods.”
I looked down at myself, soaked in rancid blood. “Perhaps I could run home and get cleaned up a bit. An unexpected event has me...” I gestured to my suit.
The werewolf didn’t speak, turned on his heel, walked up to the limo, and knocked on the tinted back window. The window lowered, and the werewolf stuck his head inside. The chauffeur took a step back and opened the door.
Socrates emerged wearing the same robes as yesterday. (Or a different set that looked exactly the same.) He called from the sidewalk, “Is there a fire hydrant in the area?”
“Bout a quarter-mile that way.” I pointed down the street.
Socrates said, “Excellent.” Then he closed his eyes and took long, deep breaths as his chest heaved in and out. His eyes opened, and he said, “Stand against the building.”
I followed his orders and he extended his arms. A blast of warm water (please be water) came from both of his hands and I understood why he had told me to stand against the wall. He washed me off with the strength of a fire hose as I spun around in circles to get clean. It didn’t surprise me that Socrates knew magic, being an immortal genius and all.
I finished getting hosed down, but now I was completely soaked with water and shivered in the winter air. I wouldn’t look terrible, but I prepared for an uncomfortable trip. My worries were erased when Socrates opened his mouth in a circle.
A gale force wind came from his lips and plastered me against the building. I worried that the force might whisk my beat-up office away like the Wizard of Oz. My face and skin rippled from the burst of wind. Socrates relented and told me to turn around.
This part of the drying process was extremely uncomfortable when the intense wind smashed my nuts into the wall. The raging gusts stopped, and I felt the fabric of my suit jacket. Completely dry and warm. Huh.
I joined Socrates in the back of the limo and the werewolf closed the door behind us. I said, “Sorry about all that. I just had a little run in with my father. It wasn’t very pretty as you can see.”
He handed me a small bottle of water, and said, “I know a bit about issues with one’s father. I could actually go on for days about it. You need to push that aside and get ready to meet the Gods. They are eager to talk to you.”
The car pulled out onto the road. I said, “And I, them. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about this.”
He picked at a bowl of dates and talked while he chewed on the snacks. “It’s only a friendly conversation at the end of which you can say yes or no. There’s really no pressure involved, but remember what I told you yesterday about a war in Pittsburgh. The Greeks have the strongest footing around here. Listen wisely.”
I was still waiting for this ancient philosopher to drop some knowledge on me and assumed he must be saving his best material for when we were in front of the Gods. He probably didn’t want to waste his time with a kid in his early twenties. I understood.
I wondered if they were going to roll out the red carpet for me. It struck me that the werewolf driver hadn’t rolled the little red carpet out of the limo for me to get in. I guess that was only reserved for the philosopher.
I broke the short silence, “So, I’m pretty sure I use a variation of the Socratic Method in my line of work. I’m a private detective.”
He dug his hand into his thick beard and scratched his chin. “Of course, of course. I thought you were going to say you were a lawyer.” He let out a belly laugh.
Something was off. He knew I wasn’t a lawyer. And was that even a joke? If so, I don’t get it. The limo speeded up and we streaked past the other cars on the road. I couldn’t tell you the exact speed, but we were flying past everyone else on the two-lane turnpike, weaving back and forth, in and out of traffic.
I tried to keep track of where we were heading and continued the conversation. “Not a lawyer. Was Plato made into an immortal too? Was he a good student?” Stupid question, of course he was a good student.
“Who?”
Really? “Plato.”
“Right, right. I thought you were referring to the pasty dough that children like to play with.” He laughed again.
I hadn’t pegged him for a comedian and he sounded like an idiot savant who made jokes to cover for a lack of knowledge. He continued, “He was quite mischievous at first until I settled him down.”
“Is he an immortal too?”
He chewed up a mouthful of dates and swallowed. “Oh yes. You might run into him during your visit.”
We got off at the Irwin exit and headed into the country. We were well outside of Pittsburgh now, but not all the entrances to the underworlds could be within city limits so I wasn’t alarmed. The roads went from paved to gravel to dirt as we plunged further into the rural area.
I asked, “What was Plato’s original name again?” I knew this was never a proven fact, but Socrates should know this.
“I’m sorry, what did you ask?” He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.
“I can’t remember Plato’s real name. Surely you know it.”
He closed his eyes. “I’m having great head pains right now. I think it’s from using that magic earlier to help you out.”
He didn’t know Aristocles? I pressed him. “When did Plato change his name?”
He ignored me, and I wanted to jump out of the vehicle because something didn’t smell right. It didn’t matter as the limousine rolled to a stop in the middle of a frosty forest that surrounded both sides of the road. My stomach churned, not in nervousness, but because I was sensing more magic.
I brought my magic to the surface and prepared for battle. I never thought I would say this, but I will kill Socrates first, then move on to the werewolf, and finally steal the car and get out of here. The chauffeur opened the door, and as I stepped out, a wave of dark magic hit me in the face.
I started to pull in the chill of the surrounding woods. I telepathically called out to the trees to lend me their wisdom of the area. I breathed deeply. In and out. In and out. I took the chill from inside my body and started forming an invisible ice ball.
A voice called out from the woods, “Don’t try it. You are thoroughly surrounded, wizard.”
Socrates slid out of the backseat. I told him, “You better get ready to use that magic again.”
As the philosopher stood up, his body transposed before my very eyes. I’d been had. I spoke through the lump in my throat, “Aka Manah. A demon that prevents people from fulfilling their moral obligations. I should have known as much.”
He had the body of a tall, physically fit man wearing an expensive pinstripe suit, but his head was the skull of a bull with long, twisting horns coming from his temples and extending high into the air. He couldn’t fit back into the limo in this state, that was for sure. The skull had bright yellow eyes with long black slits embedded into the cavities and a golden amulet in the middle of his forehead. I couldn’t tell what kept the item in place because it didn’t have anything attached to it.
He said, “Aka Manah. Very perceptive. I was having trouble keeping that act up at the end. Put away your magic. I can see your vines spilling out of you and slithering around on the ground. You are surrounded by my friends from the Red Cavern.”
From both sides o
f the street, hundreds of demons came out of the woods. I put my magic away. I knew they would kill me if I didn’t. At first, I thought this might be a plot by the vamps to kill me because they had found out I was harboring Carolyn, or worse, they had found out I had killed an elder.
Now, my mind jumped to a much more frightening possibility. My father was in cahoots with the Red Cavern. They knew about me, so they had to know that my father could be even more powerful. I probably led them right to him when I had visited him in prison. I knew I shouldn’t have visited that worthless piece of shit. He was about to have the last laugh apparently.
Aka Manah asked, “Aren’t you even going to ask what is going on?”
I had a rather good idea of what was about to happen and didn’t need the play-by-play. I thought about calling on my magic to kill a few of the demons before I died. “Okay. What is going on?” I asked listlessly.
“We are going to take you to the Red Cavern. You aren’t going to meet any Gods today. You’re going to meet some devils.”
Chapter 17
I WAS BASICALLY PLUNGING into the depths of hell. How bad could it be? Maybe I’ll bump into Dante. Hell, I’m friends with Socrates already, right?
The tricky demon shifter that once was Socrates pushed me into the woods as the rest of the demons followed. I felt like I was being led to the slaughter as my feet skipped across the frosty forest floor.
Aka Manah’s expensive Italian leather shoes trampled over the brush as he pushed me in the back to keep me moving. The darkness and magical power intensified as we trekked along a narrow path. I heard a waterfall in the distance, or maybe it was just a raging river, but I didn’t recall any rapids like that out this way.
I was being marched to my father so he could kill me with help from the demons. In turn, they would turn him into their slave to perform tasks on earth at their will. Win-win for them. Lose-lose for me. No other ideas made sense in my head.
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