Feros and the Underworld Prince

by A. L. Bridges

  “Cole!?” Stacy asks from behind me.

  I slowly turn and see Stacy, Sarah, Kacey, and Nagi in various states of shock, surprise, and/or laughter. Nagi quickly pulls out her phone and snaps a picture before I can get a word in; damn you uPhone and your ability to go from lock screen to taking a picture in under five seconds!

  “Rough night?” Kacey snickers.

  Should I throw a smoke bomb and make my escape? No, that might set off the fire alarm, which would only increase the number of people seeing me wearing yoga pants. I decide to go with misdirection instead.

  “What? Don’t judge me; this is how I spend every Sunday morning: pretending to be a ninja. Since I’ve been seen, I have failed in my objective and self-evisceration may be called for. Now, if you will excuse me…” I reply with a serious tone before retreating down the hall and into my room where I start dying from laughter because of the looks on their faces. Despite the fact that they now have photographic evidence of me wearing yoga pants, I still feel like I won.

  My laughter reminds me that I still really need to take a leak so I grab some clothes and my toiletry bag, take off Cheza’s yoga pants, and wrap my towel around my waist before heading to the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom, set my clothes down, handle my business, and then I hear the door open behind me.

  I turn to find Travis walking through the door wearing pink booty shorts that probably have something like ‘Juicy’ written in glitter on the ass, which really is a terrible thing to advertise. That is something that you should be seeing a doctor about, not telling strangers by writing about your condition on the ass of your shorts; it’s not like you see men wearing slacks that say ‘It’s been more than four hours’ written on the crotch… then again, you would hardly need an advertisement to notice an erection…

  “Not. A. Word.” Travis says while covering his junk; I can guess what has happened.

  “That’s why I went with the yoga pants earlier, to make sure nothing slipped out.” I tell him as I walk into a stall, and turn on the shower.

  “So how was Chezarei?” Travis asks as he turns on an adjacent shower.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t play dumb; I saw your arm wrapped around her as you both stumbled out of the bar at 1am. Plus, I can’t think of any other reason why you would have to wear yoga pants this early.” Travis says.

  “Can I borrow some soap?” Travis asks and I set my body wash on top of the partition.

  “Because I like the feeling of having my junk forced up towards my waist?” I suggest sarcastically as I turn off the shower.

  “Dude, please tell me that you hooked up with her last night and that you, like me, couldn’t find your clothes so you had to wear her yoga pants, and didn’t just confess to me that you enjoy cross-dressing.” Travis begs as he finishes his shower and hands me my bottle.

  “I woke up naked next to her this morning.” I tell him as I throw on my jeans and t-shirt.

  “Sweet! Could you do me a favor and go to my room and grab some clothes for me?” Travis asks.

  “No, but you can use my towel to go get your own clothes.” I reply.

  “Thanks bro!” Travis exclaims as I hand him the towel and head back to my room.

  I start reading when Travis knocks on my door about fifteen minutes later.

  “Hey, do you want to go get some lunch?” Travis asks as he returns my towel.

  “Sure, I could eat.” I reply.

  “Cool, let’s go to that café again.” Travis suggests.

  “Ugh…” I respond.

  “Come on dude; I doubt that waitress even remembers!” Travis says.

  “Fine.” I concede; after all, the food had been good.

  Travis regales his exploits from last night on the way to the café.

  “So I had her bent over her desk…” Travis says as we walk into the café.

  “Hey! Sprite guy!” the waitress exclaims when she sees us, but she seems to be good-natured about it. Travis continues the tale of his exploits while we are eating, and on the way back to the dorm.

  “So then I—” Travis continues while we pass through the forest leading to the university.

  “I wish Cole were here… He could help me… Cole… Cole… COLE!” I hear Lila’s distraught voice in my mind as I see an image of her cowering in a clothing store.

  “WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT!?” Travis shouts as my helmet engages.

  “Got to go, explain later.” I reply and touch my triskele.

  “Lila, what’s wrong?” I ask, as a 10mm auto round passes through my right scapula, into my lung, and out through the front of my chest.

  I turn around and see a werewolf holding a Colt Delta Elite in his right hand, looking stunned by my sudden appearance. Based on the trajectory of the bullet, the gun hadn’t been aimed at anyone until I appeared in its path, but that doesn’t change the fact that this fucker just shot me. I pull a Sic dagger from my left arm and slice off the werewolf’s hand. As the gun and the severed hand holding onto it fall, I snatch them up in my left hand and fire two rounds into the stomachs of each of the three armed men in the high-end clothing store. I realize that I still have two rounds left in the magazine so I fire a round into the guns of two men that are still armed and drop the empty gun. Grabbing Lila, I touch my triskele and port us to her apartment.

  “COLE!” Lila cries and hugs me.

  “Are you okay?” Lila asks as I let my Sic dagger clatter to the floor.

  “Lila!?” I hear Charlotte ask.

  “Yeah… I’ll… be… fine… I… just… need… to… rest.” I gasp out like a fish without water before I turn and collapse facedown onto the couch. Why is this happening? I should be able to stay conscious with one working lung.

  (A rib fragment from the entry wound poked a tiny hole in your left lung. I’ll have both fixed in a few hours)

  …

  “No, like I told you before, Princess Lila was with me the whole day and there is no one matching that description here.” Charlotte says in her familiar monotone before slamming the phone down.

  “Gods, they just won’t give up. Oh, how are you feeling, Cole?” Charlotte asks before I open my eyes; she’s good.

  “Cole!” Lila exclaims next to me. I open my eyes and see Lila’s concerned face with Charlotte hovering around behind her.

  “I’m fine now; it seems a rib fragment had popped my only remaining lung after the bullet passed through my other one. That’s all fixed now though. What time is it?” I inquire.

  “Almost eleven.” Charlotte replies.

  Ten hours? Shit… that’s an unusually long time.

  (So it took me a little longer than usual! It’s not like you had anywhere to be!)

  “Sorry… thanks for your help, Airi.”

  (You’re welcome)

  “Your phone kept ringing earlier so I dug through your pants, discovered that you dress to the left, and handed the phone to Lila.” Charlotte says.

  “But my phone was in my back pocket!” I exclaim.

  “Yes, it was.” Charlotte answers, as though my statement had been a question.

  “I saw that you had received a few calls from Chezarei so I texted her back, telling her that you were with me and currently unable to answer the phone.” Lila informs me.

  From a third party’s perspective, this seems like the right choice of words in case I didn’t want to tell Cheza that I had gotten shot. However, given our recent relationship, Cheza could interpret ‘unable to answer the phone’ as having sex, and ‘with Lila’ as with Lila. I just pray that Cheza hasn’t seen Lila lately and that Natasha hasn’t mentioned what I said about Lila…

  “I need to get going.” I tell them as I stand up.

  “Are you mad that I sent that text to Chezarei?” Lila timidly asks and I see the image of the small girl I saved sixteen months ago.

  “Of course not,” I tell Lila as I hug her. “I just don’t want to worry her further, that’s all.”

  “Well,
the police have been calling and asking about the porting they detected, as well as a man with a silver helmet.” Charlotte informs me.

  Great… I need to get to Natasha so we can come up with a plan.

  “Okay, thanks for the warning.” I reply.

  “Here, let me get you one of Lila’s sleeping shirts; the bullet holes in your current one may attract attention.” Charlotte says as Lila pulls away from me.

  Charlotte heads down the hall and into Lila’s room. She comes out and hands me a men’s large, plain white t-shirt from Hanes that has the back cut out. Lila’s eyes go wide and she starts to look nervous when she sees the shirt.

  “Umm…” I start.

  “This shirt is definitely not yours.” Charlotte says with an uninflected tone. Well, I guess that clears up my suspicion that this shirt might be the one that Lila wore after I rescued her.

  “I agree that the bullet holes will attract attention, but that shirt will hardly be inconspicuous. I’ll just go shirtless and refrain from stopping by any diners to avoid not being served. Do you mind if I leave my shirt here; Oh, and my Sic dagger?” I ask as I strip off my shirt.

  “Sure, that’s fine, Cole. Oh, by the way, how did you know I was in trouble?” Lila asks.

  My heart stops in my chest. I can’t tell her ‘oh, it’s probably because of my blood that’s inside of you,’ because it would lead to me explaining why I put my blood in her originally, which may unlock her memories of being raped by Fenrir; plus it might lead to me having to tell her that I spiked her orange juice with my blood last weekend, but it’s mostly the rape thing.

  “I don’t really know… I could just tell that you needed me so I touched my triskele and ported to you.” I lie, hoping that she doesn’t know the details of what I need to port.

  “Well, thanks for saving me again.” Lila says as she hugs me. I pat her on the head and she giggles, just like last time, even though she’s a foot taller now.

  “Anytime!” I softly tell her with a smile before disengaging.

  “I’ll see you guys later.” I say as head for the door.

  “Bye Cole!” Lila waves as I pull her front door closed.

  I walk down the hall, take the elevator to the lobby and walk out the main door. As I walk down the street, towards the subway, two things happen: a group of drunken girls calls out to me, and I realize that I should text Cheza and tell her I’m coming so she won’t worry. I pull out my phone and hold the home button down until my phone beeps twice.

  “Text Cheza.” I command.

  “OK, I can send a text to Cheza for you… what would you like it to say?” Airi’s voice replies from my phone.

  “On my way home, I’ll explain everything when I get there—”

  “YOU’RE UNDER ARREST!” a police officer shouts as he ambushes me from an alleyway.

  “—send” I finish as the policeman pushes me towards a squad car that had been coasting behind me.

  So much for not making her worry…

  Chapter 31: Schrodinger’s Zombie Cat

  “Good morning. I’m Detective Sanchez.” An azeman says as she enters the interrogation room at roughly 1am.

  “Good morning Detective Sanchez; am I under arrest?” I inquire.

  “Nope, I just want to have a quick, friendly word with you.” Sanchez replies.

  “Is this the standard protocol I’d see if I looked up ‘quick, friendly word’ in the policeman’s manual?” I ask.

  “No, that usually involves a tube sock and a couple of oranges, but I’m not too partial to citrus this early in the morning.” Sanchez tells me.

  “And I don’t like orange juice unless there’s vodka in it.” I reply. Sanchez lets the silence hang in the air.

  “So what did you want to talk to me about?” I finally ask.

  “You.” Sanchez says.

  “What about me?” I ask.

  “Who are you?” Sanchez clarifies.

  “Philosophically, theosophically, or paranormosophically?” I reply.

  “Paranormosophically?” Sanchez asks.

  “Yeah, I felt I needed three so I took anthroposophy and combined it with paranormal so that it would apply to our situation because neither of us are exactly human.” I explain.

  “Let’s start with name.” Sanchez says.

  “Slevin Kelevra, k-e-l-e-v-r-a Kelevra.” I reply. Sanchez looks at the two-way mirror and nods. Courtesy of my extrasensory hearing, I listen as someone on the other side of the mirror starts laughing.

  “This fuckin’ guy!” I hear a person say, muffled through the mirror. Sanchez’s phone starts ringing.

  “What?” Sanchez answers.

  “Detective, you’ve obviously never seen the movie Lucky Number Slevin, have you? This entire conversation has almost been a parody of it! Anyway, his name is Cole Treyfair. He’s a student at the university.” A male voice says from the phone’s speaker.

  “Thanks.” Sanchez replies as she narrows her eyes at me and hangs up her phone.

  “So, Cole… where were you today at around 1pm?” Sanchez pointedly asks.

  “Well I know that I would have preferred to be having lunch with you.” I say with a smile and a wink. Sanchez’s face falters for a split second before she glares at me.

  “Do you want me to get the oranges? I can promise you though, there will be no vodka.” Sanchez says with a malicious quality to her voice.

  “That depends… will it be considered foreplay?” I inquire while raising an eyebrow. Sanchez looks pretty furious.

  “Do you want to spend the next twenty-four hours in a cell!?” Sanchez asks, venom dripping from her voice.

  “That depends… is there a cot and will you be joining me? I might even let you have a drink; I’m told that I’m quite tasty!” I tell her with a wink. Sanchez is literally shaking with rage. She looks like she’s going to blow at any second when her phone rings.

  “WHAT!?” Sanchez screams into the receiver.

  “Sanchez, you should calm down and get the fuck out of there! We just got the information: The Faction’s Executioner, also known as Feros, is Cole Treyfair!” the male voice frantically says.

  I guess the cat is out of the bag… who in the hell is out there stuffing cats into bags to try and see if they can make their way out of them?

  (The Germans… aw, Schrodinger)

  “Wouldn’t that be letting the zombie cat out of the box…? Wait, Schrodinger was Austrian, not German.”

  (Whatever)

  “What, the Feros? Killer of gods? The one that destroyed a town and a snow elf village in Greenland before killing Fenrir? This can’t be him, Feros is dead!” Sanchez argues in a hushed tone while turned away from me and holding her hand over her mouth and the receiver.

  “Well, the word from some of my Agency friends is that Feros is alive. Apparently he was helping on a mission a few weeks back and this werewolf captain picked a fight with him. Feros beat him without getting out of his seat and while only using a single hand! And then he took out an entire gang of enhanced supers after the rest of the operators were ordered to fall back! This would also explain the porting as well as the reports of the silver helmet!” the voice exclaims.

  Sanchez looks at me, uncertainty apparent in her eyes. She stands up, exits the room, and comes back about a minute later

  “You’re free to go.” Sanchez says as she slides my phone and wallet over to me.

  “Thanks. See you around, detective.” I tell her and then touch my triskele; they already know my identity so there is no point in me taking the subway.

  I port to my room and toss myself on my bed. I just have this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I’m watching the shit hitting the fan and now it’s about to spray all over the place… where in the hell did that saying come from? Did somebody actually take their shit and throw is at a fan to see what happened? Or were two monkeys being observed as they had a poo fight and one toss went high, hit a fan, and sprayed all over the observers, who then jotted dow
n their findings in a lab journal to report the crucial observation of what happens when shit hits a fan?

  I should probably call Natasha…

  “You know it’s like 2am, right?” Natasha answers.

  “Natasha… we have a slight problem.” I tell her.

  “What did you do, get Lila pregnant or something?” Natasha asks.

  “I may have exaggerated the slightness…” I reply.

  “How is getting a minor pregnant a slight problem!?” Natasha exclaims.

  “The Fogquartz police force knows that I’m Feros…” I respond. Natasha is silent for a few moments.

  “How?” Natasha asks with an exacerbated sigh.

  “Well, last weekend I gave Lila some of my blood to cure her hangover and that reconnected with my blood that was in her from when I manipulated her memories. Today, there was an armed robbery at the store Lila was at and she called out to me to help her. I ported there, dispatched the robbers, and ported Lila to her home, where I passed out on her couch from two punctured lungs. The police called multiple times while I was unconscious and then they picked me up when I left Lila’s penthouse. I didn’t give anything up during the interrogation, but they were able to get my name from student ID and connected the name Cole Treyfair to Feros.” I explain.

  “Speaking of which, why the fuck did I use my real name in an undercover investigation!?” I ask.

  “Yeah, looking back that was probably poor planning, huh?” Natasha replies.

  “So what do we do?” I inquire.

  “We rely on Travis… just do what you can, but tell him that once the knowledge of you being Feros gets out, he needs to distance himself from you to have any hope of continuing with this investigation. You should probably tell him tonight.” Natasha informs me.

  “Alright, I’ll go do that. Talk to you later.” I reply and hang up.

  I grab a shirt, put it on, and head to Travis’s room. I softly knock for about three minutes.

  “Dude… it’s 2am, couldn’t this have waited until morning?” Travis answers in his boxers. I barge past him into his room.

  “Okay, I need you to listen carefully because this shit is important. I’m The Faction’s Executioner, Feros. My cover has been blown by the Fogquartz police for porting and it’s only a matter of time until the student body knows all about it. When it gets out, you have to distance yourself from me, like everyone else is most likely going to, if we want to have any hope of continuing this investigation.” I inform Travis and he stares at me blankly for a few moments.