by Stefan Lear
“If whoever sent the barghest isn’t trying to hurt you, then they are trying to kill or capture you. Since you are still alive I can only assume it was sent to hurt you or capture you. If it had been sent to kill you, you would not be drawing breath.”
Paul just stared at the man. He wanted this to be some elaborate ruse. He wished that Ashton Kutcher would step out of the shadows and yell “You’ve been punked.” The demeanor of the man in front of him spoke of the gravity of what was happening to him, and Paul shivered from the shadow of malevolence that had thrust itself into his life tonight.
“When I was trying to save Marie, there was a flash of fire that came out of nowhere. Where did that come from? It happened when I attacked that thing. What was that? Was that you?”
“No, Paul, I didn’t use any fire. That happened before I arrived,” the man said. “Who was there with you?”
“It was just Marie and me before that thing, the barghest, showed up.”
“There you go. It was one of those three. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”
“But why would the barghest use fire on it’s self? What purpose would that serve?”
“It wouldn’t serve any purpose. Though the barghest originates in hell it doesn’t use fire to track it’s prey. Fire destroys tracks and scents, and that’s what it uses to track its victim,” replied the man arching an eyebrow. “Who else does that leave? It certainly wasn’t Marie, she was damn near gutted and dead.”
“There wasn’t anyone else there, though,” Paul puzzled.
“Yes there was, Paul.” Paul saw the stern, somewhat impatient look on the man’s face.
“Well I was there, but I don’t shoot magic fireballs from my fingers. What do I look like? An angry mouse that can’t figure out how to clean the house?”
The man just raised his chin, crossed his arms and stared at Paul. He watched as denial and dawning warred with the features of his face. He would have smirked if it weren’t so important that Paul understand what he had done.
Dawning won the war for Paul’s features. “You don’t mean...?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. You conjured that fireball. It came from you.”
“That’s crazy,” Paul said in a low voice of astonishment.
“Whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth. Remember? Now close your mouth before you start drooling.”
“How the fuck did I conjure a fireball from nowhere? That’s just crazy,” Paul thought to himself.
“Now, get some rest. Your ribs are cracked and you need to heal before the barghest gets your scent again.”
“Rest? How am I supposed to rest? I have a hell hound trying to kill me, my girl just got ripped to shreds, and I can do magic. I’m just supposed to lie down and close my eyes so I can get some rest? Yeah, right!”
The man reached into a pocket and pulled out a package. He opened it and emptied what looked like dust into his hand. He threw it at Paul. Paul flinched but immediately became groggy and started to slump in his chair.
“There ya go. Rest for now.”
The man threw a blanket over Paul. “What a night.”
Chapter 5
Paul snapped upright in bed and pain shot up the left side of his torso.
“Aww shit,” he exclaimed loudly. Nope, it hadn’t been a dream. He looked down at the dressing that wrapped around his ribcage. “Pretty good.” He assumed the man that had rescued him had bandaged him. Just a day ago he had thought the man was just another nutbag on the street, and now it seemed that nutbag could do magic. The same nutbag had saved Paul from an attack by a hellhound, and now it seemed he had medical skills, too. Paul realized he didn’t even know the guys name.
“Before yesterday I didn’t think magic was real,” Paul thought to himself.
“Whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth,” the man had said. He had also said that Paul had used magic.
“Fuck me,” Paul stated flatly. “I need some coffee.” Maybe caffeine would help kick his brain into gear and he could piece this together. It was fantastical, and if he hadn’t been there he would say it’s an impossible story.
Paul moved to leave his bed and stand up, and was immediately sorry he moved so quickly. Searing flashes of pain from the hellhound had hit him. He stopped to catch his breath and wait till the pain subsided. Obviously he would need to go a little slower. Cautiously he tested out how slow he would have to go to not have pain stop him in his tracks.
Slowly he found a happy medium between the constant throb of complaints from his body and being able to move around with a semblance of normalcy. If anyone asked he would just tell them he had a new prescription for thorazine. That will explain the slow gait he will have to adopt in the immediate future, and people in this town won’t give it a second thought if it’s prescription meds.
He ambled to the coffee maker in the kitchen area and prepped for an extra strong pot of Joe. He had a feeling he would need it. He pushed the start button on the coffee maker and moved toward the bathroom
Just getting out of and back in his clothes was going to be a real testament to his dedication to cleanliness. Today he felt like puke from a rabid gerbil. He grabbed his shirt with his right hand and pulled it over his head and dragging it down so he didn’t have to raise his left arm. Unbuttoning his pants with one hand was a somewhat more complicated issue, but he finally removed all his clothes and made it to the shower. He turned on water as hot as he could stand it, and stepped into the shower. The heat took away his breath for a moment until his body adjusted.By then the heat was soothing his sore muscles and loosening the grime he felt on his body. He stayed under the water for over half an hour trying to relax.
ONCE HE HAD A CLEAN set of clothes on and a cup of coffee to sip on, he sat in his desk chair. What happened last night still seemed like he had been in a 3D IMax film. It seemed like it should have happened on the screen. The rational part of his mind still tried to find scientific facts that would explain the events that ran through his mind. None of science’s facts could sufficiently explain what he had seen and experienced, though.
His phone, thrown on his desk some time last night, started ringing. He slowly leaned forward to pick it up and saw that Jamaal was calling. He didn’t know how he was going to explain what happened or if Jamaal would believe him. He would wait to till he had his mind wrapped around the whole thing till he spoke with anyone about last night.
He moved to set the phone back on his desk, and noticed a piece of brown parchment paper. He didn’t remember ever setting parchment on his desk. Curious now, he set the phone down beside the paper and picked it up. He sat back against the chair and read the parchment. Written in a bold script was the simple note “Stay inside till you see me again. Talk to no one.”
He assumed it was from the stranger that had saved him last night. The man seemed to know what he was doing. Certainly he knew more than Paul about last night’s events. There seemed to be a lot the stranger knew that Paul didn’t.
He knew how to make a portal from one place to the next, that’s for sure. Paul was damn sure William Riker hadn’t come down from The Enterprise and given him a transporter machine. That only left two possibilities, and since time travel was just a dream for science, he was going to go with option two. The man knew how to use magic. True magic. And the man had as much as told him that somehow Paul had used magic, too.
Paul had always been entertained by illusionists but had always that what they did was just illusions, a way to fool the audience into thinking that magic was real. Now he wondered.
“So I conjured a fireball he says.” Paul remembered the ball of flames that had hit the barghest beast. How had he done it? He had fist seen the ball of fire when he was angriest, when he was attacking the beast. Maybe it was a reaction to his emotions? He didn’t know. All he knew is that his attack hadn’t stopped the beast from ripping Marie apart. He
didn’t know if it had served any purpose other than annoying the barghest.
“Now the barghest thinks I can use magic. Great.” Paul was sure that wasn’t to his favor. Now the beast would be more cautious and try to sneak up on him to attack. He realized now why the man with the curly locks and the personal portal wanted him to stay inside for now.
Paul wanted time travel to be as real as magic had become. He wanted to jump in a time machine, travel back two days and try to fix this whole impossible fiasco.
Chapter 6
After a couple of days of recuperating Paul had grown restless in his apartment, so he picked the part of the day when the sun was most likely to be shining brightest. Somehow the sun shining, even if it was through clouds, seemed to comfort him. He hoped no creatures of the night were out hunting.
He knew he had been instructed to stay inside out of sight, but that small apartment was stifling for any extended amount of time. Besides, he wanted to find out more about the barghest. Maybe the library would have something about the creatures. He desperately wanted to understand better what he was up against, so he decided to walk there. At least he was doing something.
He walked slowly because of the ache in his side. His ribs still healed, and with it came the pain. He had walked the two blocks to the trolley. He would ride it to within a block of the library. It would save him walking so much while his ribs healed. He just hoped the trolley wasn’t crowded. The last thing he needed is someone accidentally bumping into him.
At the stop at Alder and 11th only one other person waited to get on the trolley. Paul waited only a couple of minutes till the trolley came to a halt at the stop and he was able to board. When he entered the trolley car he was relieved to find that only two other people were onboard. Both seemed to be homeless, and both were taking a nap. That meant that no one would accidentally knock into him and cause new daggers of pain in his ribcage.
The doors closed and the trolley rolled forward on the tracks set into the road. Two blocks later he signaled he wanted to disembark at the next stop. Shortly the trolley came to a halt, the doors whooshed open and Paul stepped onto the pavement. He looked left and right. He went left and stopped at the intersection that he would cross to get to the library.
As the traffic light changed he started crossing the street. Coming his way up the sidewalk from the other side was a friend of his, James.
James was terminally homeless and a hopeless pothead. In spite of his flaw political opinions and his love of arguing, James was the type that would bend over backwards to help a friend. Paul liked the guy, and occasionally would buy a fifth of Weller’s finest bourbon to split with him.
“Hey, James. What’s up?” Paul asked as he reached the other side. James extended his hand and Paul shook it firmly. “How have ya been doing, brother?”
“You know. The same shit, different day,” he answered. “How are you, man? I haven’t seen ya around Sisters lately.”
“I’m ok. Just got into a little accident and got banged up a little.”
“What happened,” James asked Paul.
“I was walking through a park, wasn’t watching what I was doing and hit something hard when I landed on the ground.”
“Damn. You okay?”
“Just a couple of bruised ribs on the left side, that’s all. But I had to call in, give the ribs time to heal. That’s why you haven’t seen me in a minute.”
“Ouch! Your ribs must be doing a little better. Else you wouldn’t be up and about.”
“Yeah. I just need to pay more attention to my surroundings is all,” Paul said smiling. “And not go out at night till that hellhound loses my scent,” he thought to himself. “Look, I’m going in the library to research a project. Want to meet up later and split a bottle?”
“I’m headed up in the hills to find a new camp. The cops rousted us all last night and threatened to give us a ticket if we showed back up. I think it was because of the guy that got dismembered under the Broadway bridge the other day. I heard it wasn’t no man that did it, though. I heard it was something supernatural. Hell, it might be a good thing the cops kicked us out. Maybe in a couple of days I’ll take you up on that?” James inquired.
“Sounds good. Just let me know. I’ve got a new bottle of Weller’s waiting to be deflowered.”
“You got it. I’ll catch up with ya at Sisters when I get set up, Paul.”
“Tits, brother. Later.”
James continued on the same path as when Paul had first seen him, and Paul continued to the library. “Dismembered, huh? It certainly sounded like it could have been the barghest.” Paul turned it over in his mind. Maybe he was right, thinking the barghest only hunted at night.
His curiosity had reached a peak by the time he walked through the library’s front doors. He went to the help desk and asked if they had any books, history or otherwise, that talked about hellhounds. The librarian checked his computer catalog, and wrote something on a piece of paper for Paul.
“An Encyclopedia of Fairies: Hobgoblins, Brownies, Bogies, & Other Supernatural Creatures.” Paul said it half to himself.
“Yes, by Katharine Briggs. It talks about legends and beliefs of more than just fairies. There are some downright nasty creatures in that book. I think you’ll find what you need in there,” the librarian told him.
“Thanks.”
Paul set off to find the book. The library was fairly empty today. It hadn’t rained in a couple of days, so the library wasn’t crowded with the homeless trying to get in out of the rain.
Paul walked into the reference section and began looking for a number that matched what the librarian had written down. “No. Not that one. Nope. That’s the one!” Paul grabbed the book, and set off to find a corner he could quietly sit in to read.
Paul found a corner table that was unoccupied. He pulled out the chair and gently sat down. It would give his ribs a chance to rest while he read. He opened the book and flipped to the index in the back. There it was, a listing for the barghest. He turned to the page and found a picture of a barghest and a little bit of lore to go with it. Slowly he devoured what information the book contained.
Besides taking the form of a large black dog with fiery eyes, it may also become invisible and walk about with the sound of rattling chains. It may also foretell the death of an individual by laying across the threshold of his or her house, and like the vampire the Barghest is unable to cross rivers.
“Interesting. Maybe it can’t swim. I wonder if that’s what it means by ‘is unable to cross rivers.’ That could prove useful indeed.” Paul closed the book, walked back to where he had taken it off the shelf, and slotted it between its brethren.
Paul left the library with more information than he had gone there with, and possibly discovered a way to kill the barghest. At the least he had discovered a way to escape from it if he were near water.
His outlook had considerably improved. He now had a silver of hope of surviving against the beast. Outside the library he turned toward his apartment, a slight spring in his step. Now he would go home and continue to heal. He could prepare physically later.
Chapter 7
Paul exited the elevator and walked toward his apartment door. Just as he arrived at his door, Adrian came out of her apartment down the hall. “Hey you. How are ya, Paul?”
“Not bad. Just taking some time off from work. I needed a couple of personal days of leave.”
“Days off for what? You ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. No big deal. I’ve been working hard and needed some rest. I felt like I was falling to pieces, know what I mean?”
“Ha, do I ever. My doctor still doesn’t have my meds right and it throws me way off.”
“Be sure he fixes that. I don’t want you to go through another round of down-in-the-dumps,” said Paul sympathetically. “And if you start getting that way, use that little present I bought for ya.”
“Little?” Adrian exclaimed. “That thing is bigger than most men I’ve d
ated.”
“Well it was designed to get your endorphins going. And we both know what they say about size.” Paul winked at her and put his key in the door lock. “I’ve gotta go lay down. Holler at me later, ok?”
“Will do, Paul.”
His door was closing as Adrian walked by. She flashed him a smile and continued toward the elevator. He set his keys on the bookcase as he passed by on the way to his desk. He had planned on trying to recreate the fireball he had shot at the barghest the night Marie had been slaughtered, but truthfully he didn’t think it would work if he were in such a good mood. Paul had to try, though.
He sat in his desk chair and concentrated. “Fire.” Nothing happened.
“Fire come forth!” Still nothing happened.
Maybe there was a magical word or something. That can’t be right: he hadn’t used any magic words when he attacked the barghest. He had been angered. Hell, he had been enraged. Right now, though, he didn’t fell anger. He felt a sense of hope that he wouldn’t be killed by the beast, that he wouldn’t be torn to shreds. It certainly was better than the fear he had felt before.
There was a knock at his door.
“Coming. Just a minute,” Paul said loudly at the door.
He got up from the chair and walked to the door to open it. When he opened it, there stood the man that had saved him from certain death.
“Come in,” Paul said. “Yeah, come in.” He opened the door wide so the man could enter. Paul noticed the man never seemed to change clothes, yet never smelled funky.
“Thank you.” The man looked around the apartment. “Quaint little place you have here.”
“Yeah, it’s not much but it’s a place to hang my hat.” Paul couldn’t decide if the man was deriding his apartment or just making an observation.
“That’s important. A man needs a place to retreat to.”