Grimm Awakening

by Bryan Smith

  “That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Nobody lives that long.”

  “No human does,“ he replied. “Your kind is flawed and fragile and your bodies decay at an alarming rate. My kind are not truly human. We are healthier and hardier. But we are not without our weaknesses, one of which I’ll reveal to you now.”

  I didn’t know what to expect, but I’ll tell you this--it was nothing I would’ve imagined. The giant bowed his head, steepled his fingers, and mumbled something that sounded like a foreign visitor ordering something off a menu in a French restaurant. Then he began to shimmer. He had a hazy look about him, like that farthest point on the horizon you can see on a long stretch of highway. Hex seemed to flicker in and out of existence. I could see the wall through him at times. Then there was a white flash. When I could see again, the giant was gone.

  Oh, Hex was still there. Only now he was no more than four and a half feet tall and looking more ridiculous than ever in his fucking leprechaun/jester duds.

  I gaped at him. “You...you shrank.”

  Hex shook his head. “No.”

  “But...but…”

  I didn’t know what to say. Looked to me exactly like the son of a bitch shrank.

  But Hex said, “I did not shrink. What you see now is my true physical form, Benjamin. What you saw before was merely the way I chose to initially present myself.”

  “But...why?” I asked him. “And how? Magic?”

  Hex laughed. “Yes, magic. At least that is how your kind would think of it. As for why, that should be obvious. Given your reputation for violence, I thought it prudent to initially present myself in a more intimidating form.”

  I cracked my knuckles and advanced on the diminutive green-clad geek. I did this without thinking. I guess I meant to pulverize the little shit for scaring me so badly. But Hex held up a hand and I froze like a little old lady at a stop sign.

  Yeah, I’d forgotten about that paralysis trick of his.

  “You’re a slow learner, Benjamin,” he said. “I’d thought otherwise, based on what I know of your history. Try to remember this--you cannot harm me. I can render you helpless at will.”

  He snapped his fingers and I was able to move again.

  I sat down on the floor again.

  Hex plopped down across from me, again. “Benjamin.”

  I sighed and lifted my head to look at Hex. “Yeah?”

  He smiled in a way that disturbed me. He removed the jester hat from his head and tossed it to me. “Put that on, Benjamin.”

  “Are you shittin’ me?” I said. “I am not putting that ridiculous thing on my head.”

  “Should I demonstrate how persuasive I can be again?” he asked.

  Well, shit, of course I didn’t want that.

  So I picked up the goddamn jingly hat and put it on my head. Picture it. A grown man sitting on the floor of a morgue, naked save for a jester’s hat. Then again, maybe you don’t want to picture that. Yeah, I felt about as silly as you’d think. So I was glaring at Hex when I said, “There. You happy now? I’m wearing your goddamn pansy hat.”

  “It’s really quite becoming,” he said.

  “Fuck you, you midget freak,” I shot back.

  Hex sighed and said, “I am not trying to humiliate you. Truly. That is no ordinary hat, Benjamin.”

  I laughed at him. “Tell me something I don’t know. This thing’s fruitier than a Hollywood hairdresser.”

  “Think of something you want,” he told me. “Picture it as clearly as you can. Do that and will it to appear before you.”

  “Bullshit,” I said.

  “Just do it,” was his reply to that.

  So I just rolled my eyes and said, “Okay. I want Rita fucking Hayworth. The movie actress. The way she looked in The Lady From Shanghai.”

  Nothing happened. Not right away. I opened my mouth to lay some heavy sarcasm on the little bastard, but then the air between us began to shimmer. That haze on the horizon thing again. Then something in the midst of that haze began to take on a shape. The shape became more defined by the moment and the more it did the bigger my eyes got.

  Then she was there, standing right in front of me.

  “Rita fucking Hayworth!”

  She was radiant. She stood there in a strapless red evening gown and heels, exuding this otherworldly level of beauty and charisma. She was glamour personified, the closest thing to perfection in the female form I’ve ever seen. Lovely Rita looked ready to step up to the podium at the Academy Awards. No one, including me in my goddamn jester’s hat, could ever have looked more out of place in that Las Vegas morgue.

  I was on my feet in a second, moving faster than I had in decades. Her eyes got big and her face had this look of frozen terror. I reached out and touched Rita’s face. God, her skin was so smooth, so soft. Then, and I’ll be honest here, boys, I squeezed her headlights.

  A silly grin spread across my face. “Holy shit! She’s real!”

  And that’s when she started screaming.

  I tried to calm her down. “Hey, hey! Relax, Rita. Hey, I said relax, goddammit!”

  I apologized, told her I didn’t mean anything by tweaking the goods like that. But nothing was working. She just kept screaming. So I raised a hand to slap the hysterics out of her.

  But Hex was next to me now. He jumped up and snatched the jester’s hat off my head. He pulled it over his own head and waved a hand at Rita. “Be gone! Forget!”

  Rita Hayworth dissolved before my eyes.

  I felt robbed. And horny. Not a good combination. I wheeled on Hex and tried to grab the hat back, but the little fucker paralyzed me again. He moved away from me, jumped up on the nearest table, and sat down with his legs folded beneath him.

  He said, “I think I’ll leave you like that while I tell you some things. And then you’ll have a choice to make. When your choice is made, I’ll be gone. You’ll never see me again.” He sighed. “It’s a magic hat, Benjamin. As you’ve guessed by now. As I tried to tell you earlier, my people were here long before you came to corrupt this city. We existed peacefully alongside the human inhabitants. It wasn’t difficult, as we rarely interact with men. Then you came.” There was an edge to his voice now that scared me. “And you brought with you a kind of psychic poison. Anguish, pain, misery. This became a place where hopes and dreams wither and die, where family fortunes are frittered away in gambling dens. And so many senseless murders. Lives snuffed out because of money. My people are an empathic race. Do you understand that? We are sensitive to the emotions of those around us. Painfully so. It was tolerable when this area was first populated by humans. Those earlier people experienced the usual tribulations of your kind, but that we could bear. However, the suffering and tragedy caused by you and your people is something we can no longer ignore. Now we fight back.”

  He pulled the jester’s hat off his head and held it in his hands, staring down at it in a forlorn way. “My time as leader of the Rainbolt clan is near an end. I am ill. My powers are faltering. If the Rainbolts are to survive in this new age, we must adapt. We must change and learn to shield ourselves against the foolishness of your kind. I am going to give this hat to you. But it’s more than just a hat, Benjamin. It’s a sacred object. A disguised device used to harness and focus natural magical energy. It was made by a man, a wizard, who belonged to the ancient Order of Sylvain. It has journeyed with my kin over continents and across oceans. For thousands of years, it has been ours. When I pass this hat on to you, you will assume a position of great responsibility.”

  He snapped his fingers and I could move again. I made no further effort to recapture the hat, nor did I try again to overpower the strange little man. I think it was almost at that precise moment that something within me began to change. I couldn’t quite grasp what it was, not then, but I did feel something. I could no longer feign disinterest in his story. Not only that, but I realized some part of me, a part buried deep inside my blackened soul, found Hex Rainbolt’s promise of a new and nobler life appe
aling.

  But I still didn’t really trust him.

  “Why me?”

  Hex slid off the table and walked over to me.

  “We chose you for this role. You specifically, Ben. Come with me. I have something else to show you.”

  Then he walked over to the table where my corpse was still laid out. The hat was back on his head. He stood at the end of the table and placed his hands over the corpse’s ruined forehead. I felt a tingling sensation along the edge of my scalp.

  “Do you have to do that?” I asked him.

  He looked up at me and said, “I’m sorry, this will hurt. But I’ll be quick.”

  He dipped a finger into the place where my eye used to be. I screamed and seized my head. A fat, warm worm was wriggling around inside my brain. Or at least that’s how it felt. Then the invasive presence was gone from my brain. I rubbed my eyes and groaned. Then I saw that Hex was holding a glowing ball about the size of a marble pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

  The light emanating from its center flickered on and off, pulsing like the beat of a man’s heart. Something about that obviously unnatural light bothered me. I knew Hex had plucked it from my brain. My other brain, I mean--the dead one.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked.

  “Think of this as a magic bullet.” He held the thing to the light and closed one eye, squinting at it like a jeweler examining a diamond. “You owe your continued existence on the physical plane to this device. The men who killed you were members of your own syndicate, Ben. One of those men, unbeknownst to him, carried a gun containing this specially altered cartridge.”

  “Great. One more time--what the hell is it?”

  “At the moment of your death this device captured within it all your thoughts and feelings, all your memories. Your essence. Everything that makes you who you are was contained within this tiny sphere.”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  But Hex was nodding. “Yes. Look at the dead thing on the table, Ben. And you’ve seen your reflection in the mirror. You know it’s true.”

  “But...why? How?”

  “So you could begin anew. This device generated a field of magical energy that was used to construct a new home for your purified soul. Yes, purified. You don’t fully realize it yet, but you are truly not the man you once were. You are no longer a sociopath. If you kill an innocent from this point on, you will feel crippling remorse.”

  “Bullshit,.” I said.

  “No bullshit, Ben. You are not the monster you were, but you retain his memories, his knowledge. Knowledge that can be useful to my people, perhaps even save them.”

  He held the jester’s hat out to me. “We have taken advantage of circumstances to give you a new chance at life. In return, we ask that you work to do what you can to alleviate the suffering of the innocent.”

  I looked at the hat. I was reluctant to take it. I’ll be honest--I was frightened. “What, I’m supposed to just go around doing good deeds, like a boy scout?”

  “Something like that, yes.” For the first time I noticed how tired he looked. How old. “But, Ben, you cannot resume your life as Benjamin Siegel. Disguise yourself. Work in the shadows. Help whoever you can whenever you can. Look for opportunities. They will be there. My people will help you, assist you in any way you require. We can do extraordinary things. But you understand the darker side of human nature in a way we could never fathom. You are the leader the Rainbolts need in order to endure.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  He pressed the hat into my hand. “This is yours now. It will invest you with some of our powers.” He sighed and moved away from me. “It’s almost time for me to go, Benjamin. I think I’ll go to the desert and watch the sun come up one more time.”

  “But--” I stammered.

  “No more questions!” he snapped. “There’s no more I can tell you. I have faith in you. I think you’ll make the most of this chance. Do not worry about locating my people. They will come to you.”

  “No way, bub. You’re not leaving me high and dry. You need to tell me--”

  “Goodbye, Ben,” he said, cutting me off. “You’ll want to be on your way soon. The morgue staff will regain consciousness in a few moments.”

  Then he was gone. He just disappeared. And I was left standing there alone, gaping at the emptiness like a pure idiot. I heard noise from outside the room. Confused voices. I ducked out a side exit before anyone could discover me.

  The short son of a bitch was right--I never saw him again.

  And as it turned out, everything he told me was the straight-up truth.

  11.

  “So there you have it--the story of how the former Bugsy Siegel, that old murdering son of a bitch, became the patron saint of Las Vegas.”

  The old man looked tired, as if the mere act of telling his story had fatigued him. He filled his whiskey glass again from the now half-empty bottle and knocked the brown liquid back. Lucien’s gaze shifted to Andy, who was watching him carefully. O’Day held his gaze a moment, then nodded and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.

  He wedged the cigarette into a notch of the ashtray and gripped the beer glass. “Every word of it’s true, Lucien.”

  Lucien shrugged. “I believe you. But I do have some questions. This Hex Rainbolt--were his people members of this Order of Sylvain?”

  Siegel splashed more whiskey into his glass. The old man’s eyes were already very bloodshot. Lucien wondered how a man could drink so much and remain at all coherent, but Benjamin Siegel hadn’t been an ordinary man for a long time. “The Rainbolts were renegades. They were cast out of the Order of Sylvain eons ago and were stranded on this backward world.” Siegel gave his eyes a vigorous rub before continuing. “They were here for maybe a hundred years before managing to transport themselves to the alternate earth Andy and I come from.”

  “Why were they expelled from the Order?”

  Siegel’s expression reflected a deep sadness. “Because the Order of Sylvain was corrupt. Their power had grown too great and they were increasingly using it for dark purposes. The Rainbolts rebelled. They used non-violent means at first, but that wasn’t working. They were harassed and jailed. Tortured. Some of the more fiery members of the clan experimented with terrorist tactics. So the word went out. The Rainbolts were to be exterminated. I was told all the gory details by surviving witnesses to the massacre, all of whom are gone now. Order troops swept into Rainbolt townships and slaughtered most of them.”

  He sighed and wet his lips with another small taste of whiskey. “Some managed to escape. Fewer than a hundred. Out of thousands. They hijacked a vessel capable of interstellar travel, but it was an old ship. When it crashed here, they were stuck. A lot of them died in the crash. And now the clan is down to just two surviving members--old Hex Rainbolt’s granddaughter and me, an honorary Rainbolt.”

  The story of the Rainbolts was sad and tragic, but Lucien failed to see how it was relevant to their situation. He was anxious to finish whatever their business was here and get back to Jack’s world. There was work to be done there. Redemption work.

  “Look, that’s all very interesting. But why should I care? As far as I know--and I’m pretty damn sure--neither the Rainbolts nor this Order of Sylvain are allied with the big boss of hell.” He finished off his beer and slammed the glass on the table. “I say we stop fucking around and get out of this goddamn place.”

  Andy lit a fresh Marlboro from the dying embers of the previous. “Chill, Lucien. We’re not spinning our wheels here, I assure you. You know I sought Ben for his help with our problem. The Rainbolt history lesson explains how he’ll help.”

  Lucien frowned. “Like hell it did. I’m still in the fucking dark.”

  Andy smiled around the cigarette wedged into a corner of his mouth. “That’s because you’re still not privy to the remaining piece of the puzzle.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “The Eye of Sylvain.”

  At that moment
the outline of a door appeared in the red wall again. When the door swung open, Lucien saw only impenetrable blackness through the opening. Then Delilah, bearing a tray with a large glass ball on a black base, emerged from that darkness and entered the room. And Lucien was again entranced by her lithe and curvy body. He was captivated by the delicate and sensual interplay of her various parts, from the sway of her hips and the thrust of her breasts against the thin fabric of her dress to the way she held her regal, slender neck.

  She set the tray on the table and Lucien got a breath-taking glimpse of the deep valley of creamy flesh visible beneath the top of her dress. She caught him looking and winked, but Lucien didn’t care. He thought he knew how Jack Grimm must have felt checking out the hot barmaid at The Dead End while under the thrall of the voice of Lust.

  He met Delilah’s gaze and said, “I think I love you. I just wanted you to know that.”

  She smiled. “Of course you do.”

  Then she refilled their drinks and left the room again.

  “I must have her.”

  Andy chuckled. “I’m sure that’s doable, Lucien. Just make the necessary monetary arrangements. But for now I’d like to direct your attention to the object on the table.”

  Lucien looked at it and frowned. “It looks like a crystal ball. A cheap one. The kind a little old lady fortune-teller would use.” He snorted. “This thing is the fabled ‘Eye of Sylvain’? Come on, man.”

  Andy’s gaze slid over to Siegel. “Ben, you take it from here.”

  Siegel leaned over the table and tapped the top of the orb with the tip of an index finger. Suddenly it was no longer a mere ball of glass. An ember of flame flared to life at its center, a bright pinpoint that then grew larger and filled the glass. Siegel closed his eyes and intoned more of that wizard mumbo-jumbo. A shape appeared within the brilliant light, a shape like...well, yes, like an eye. The sight of it sent a chill through Lucien. There was something vaguely sinister about it. Then the searing light did a slow fade, like the house lights of a movie theater going down at show time, and was gradually replaced by shapes within a murky fog.