Witches and Ghosts Supernatural Mysteries

by Angela Pepper

  Valentine checked the time. She had less than ten minutes before the sweep ran, and it would take her two minutes to code the worm. She grabbed the mug of coffee and downed it, liquid overflowing down her cheeks and onto her shirt. She didn’t even notice as she wiped her chin on her shoulder.

  In front of them, the woman on the swivel chair groaned, like she might be about to throw up.

  Valentine typed faster while shuffling backward on the floor, still cross-legged.

  “Keep her away from me,” she said to Khan. “But don’t touch her. Find a blanket, or a stick. There’s got to be something around here you can use.”

  The woman groaned. “I can be at peace now,” she said. She closed her eyes and drooped forward in the chair.

  “Don’t go,” Khan gasped. “Your son needs you.” He moved toward her, ignoring Valentine’s shouts of warning. He grabbed the woman’s shoulders, and her glow zapped him and sent him flying back.

  Valentine screamed and went to Khan’s side.

  He groaned and curled into a ball, cursing and moaning in pain.

  “Don’t you dare leave me,” Valentine said.

  He took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled audibly. “People keep saying that to me,” he said. “Val, don’t let Eli give me mouth to mouth. I’m still alive. My heart’s okay.”

  “Eli.” Valentine blinked and looked around the dark room. “I forgot about Eli.”

  Her mental timer clicked away the seconds. She had only nine and a half minutes to run the program, but now she was worried about Eli, which would slow her down. It would take twice as long to code if she was thinking about him.

  Where was he?

  She called out into the darkness, “Eli? Joey?”

  Her verbal query was met with a distant cry for help.

  Khan’s sense of hearing and visual-spatial modeling was better than hers, so she turned to him.

  “Sounds like he’s in the cellar,” Khan said. “I’ll get him.” He tried to stand, but his legs kept shaking. The effort was making him gasp. He was a strong man, but the electrical shock had taken a lot out of him.

  Valentine was already in motion. She grabbed her laptop and used the sleeve of her hoodie to shield her hand as she yanked a blue cable from one of the nearby computers. A new plan formed in her head, and it was even better than the previous one. Going down to the cellar wasn’t just an option, it was the logical choice.

  “You stay here and rest,” she ordered. “I’ll run down there and see what trouble he’s gotten himself into. I can plug directly into one of the servers, assuming they’re down there.”

  “Be careful,” he said.

  She snorted as she made her way down the cluttered, dim hallway. Be careful? Of a server room? Please.

  From down in the cellar, Eli hollered again, his words incomprehensible.

  She found the doorway to the cellar and started down the creaky wood steps. She could see movement in the deep pit, and she heard moaning.

  “Eli?”

  “Don’t come down here!” he yelled. “I got this. Sorry I yelled for help before. False alarm.”

  “Are you tripping over stuff in the dark? Why didn’t you turn on the light?”

  “Everything’s under control,” he grunted.

  She backed up by two steps and palmed the wall where a logical person would have put a light switch. She found the plastic toggle easily and flipped it on.

  Light filled the cellar. She looked up at the bare bulb, relieved that this one hadn’t burned out, and she could actually see everything around her. In two seconds, she was about to wish otherwise.

  She blinked, let out a small sneeze as her eyes reacted to the light, then turned to look down into the cellar.

  Her eyes widened. The bare bulb revealed a twisted, terrifying monster, unlike anything Valentine Hart had ever seen.

  Eli stood in one corner, armed only with a snow shovel.

  With the light switched on, Eli appeared to be rapidly reassessing the monster, the situation, and whether or not he had everything under control.

  He dropped the shovel, turned to Valentine, and yelled, “Run!”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The creature hadn’t been so terrifying at first.

  Eli had finally given up on turning off the servers and started looking around for a power outlet. With the way the servers had been installed, Eli couldn’t just yank the power. There was enough of a tangle of cords running in and out of the cellar that finding the outlets they were plugged into wasn’t easy.

  In fact, Eli hadn’t found the outlets when he discovered an alcove, tucked under the stairwell. He remembered that he was still looking for Joey, and this seemed like a good hiding place for the boy.

  There was a crashing of glass behind him. From where he stood, he couldn’t see that the dogs had broken through the cellar’s window and were tumbling in, one at a time.

  Eli called into the darkness, “Joey, was that you?”

  He shone his phone’s light around the cubby’s alcove. He saw huddled shapes, but they were only two dusty bags of rock salt, sitting next to a snow shovel.

  Something growled behind Eli, making his skin tighten all over his body. That wasn’t a sound Joey made. Eli reached for the snow shovel, held it like a weapon, and turned around slowly.

  The snarling was coming from a dog. A small dog. It was the same shape and coloring as a Great Dane, but the size of a rat. No. Not even the size of a rat. More like a mouse.

  Eli let out a laugh of relief, and then a laugh of amusement. The teeny-tiny Great Dane glared back at him, as if to say, puny human, prepare to meet your death.

  Eli laughed harder. “You’re hilarious,” he said to the dog. “What are you going to do? Grab my shoelaces and untie my boots? I’ve committed bathroom crimes bigger than you, dog.”

  The animal did not appreciate being compared to a dookie, and growled louder.

  Eli wiped a tear from his eye. He hoped his phone had enough battery life for a photo.

  Movement by the window caught Eli’s attention and made him stop laughing. The purple grid was still glowing around him, and it seemed to be getting brighter.

  Something dark tumbled down from the cellar’s window. He scanned the floor, his throat tightening as his gaze was met by dozens of dark, beady eyes. It wasn’t just the teeny-tiny dog in the cellar with him. There were dozens surrounding him, and more jumping in through the broken window.

  Eli’s self-preservation instincts sent up a warning flare. He sensibly called over his shoulder, toward the doorway at the top of the stairs. “Khan? A little help down here would be good!”

  The light from his phone flickered and dimmed. A warning icon flashed on the screen. He had less than a minute left on the battery, so he used it to light his way to the stairs. He stepped through the milling crowd of dogs, careful not to hurt any of them. Even though the dogs were giving him some very hateful looks, he wasn’t about to start booting them for no reason. Eli Carter was not a dog-kicker.

  Once his back was turned to them, though, the dogs didn’t offer him the same courtesy. Six miniatures jumped in unison, grasping his clothing in their sharp teeth. Eli fell backward and landed hard on the cement floor. The force knocked the air out of his lungs. For a minute, he couldn’t move, much less breathe. He lay helpless and gasping as the light of his phone ebbed and blinked off.

  A slobbery tongue licked his face, and then two slobbery tongues. Aw, sweet, Eli thought. They’re worried about me.

  The dogs let out excited yips, as if to say, this one will be delicious. The dogs piled onto him, a writhing mass of excitement. Let’s form with him, they said. He can be the torso.

  Eli didn’t know what “be the torso” meant, but he was sure it wasn’t something good. He tried to wriggle out from under them, but the dogs had massed together, and were heavy as a group. He caught his breath and used it to yell for help again.

  Over the dog noises, he heard a girl’s voice. Valentine
was coming for him.

  The idea of her seeing him like this, crushed under a bunch of ridiculously small dogs, spurred him into action. His new muscles weren’t just decorative, but strong. He rolled, shedding dogs, and reached around blindly in the dark. His fingers closed around the wooden handle of the snow shovel.

  He turned the shovel at an angle and used the square business end to sweep a path as he got to his feet. He blinked, his head spinning and pounding as his blood pressure dropped with the upright posture. He’d been out in the sun all day, and was dehydrated from too much junk food and not enough water.

  The violet lines glowed in a grid all around him, more visible now that they were the only light source. He cleared the path again, ignoring the angry barking.

  He took a step toward the steep wooden stairs, but a sound stopped him in his tracks.

  The sound was coming from behind him, and it was unlike anything he’d ever heard. The closest comparison he could think of was the ripping of gristle and muscle, like when he used to help his father take apart whole roasting chickens to fry up the pieces separately.

  Still gripping the shovel tightly, he slowly turned to see what could be making the sound. The light coming through the small window was weak, but Eli’s adrenaline had made his night vision better than usual.

  The dogs were no longer dogs. They were fangs and fur and meat, twisting and separating, then reforming. A monster grew before him. More dogs jumped in through the cellar window and applied themselves to the growing mass.

  Eli bent his knees and took a defensive stance. This wasn’t so bad. He couldn’t harm a little dog, but this new thing was something he could fight. He had a snow shovel, which wasn’t much, but the creature wasn’t attacking him yet. He still had time.

  Eli sneezed. Why did the air smell of sulphur? The grid around him glowed brighter as the creature’s bones continued to crack and pop, sliding into new places. The sound was enough to turn his stomach, and he was thankful for the lack of light in the dark cellar.

  Then Valentine appeared above him, in the doorway.

  He told her he had things under control, because he believed he did.

  She admonished him for tripping around clumsily in the dark, and flicked on the light.

  Eli finally got a good look at the creature, though there was nothing good about the way it looked. It was big. It was wrong. It was inside out. And, worst of all, it was wet.

  Eli dropped the flimsy shovel, turned to Valentine and yelled, “Run!”

  She stood frozen on the mid-point of the wooden stairs. He bounded up six feet of steps and collided with her. “We gotta go,” he said.

  “The servers,” she said. “I need direct access.”

  She seemed to not understand the danger, so he crouched down, grabbed her by the waist, and threw her onto his shoulder.

  Behind him came a new sound from the creature. This was not a growl or a bark, but a roar. Ignoring his desire to turn and look at the monstrosity, Eli started moving up the steep stairs. Valentine squirmed, demanding to be put down, and not making the stairs any easier.

  The air crackled with sulphur, and a plume of fire shot between them and the doorway. The fire hit the stairs above them and exploded in heat and light. The wood was ancient, and easily set ablaze by the monster’s blast.

  Eli tried to push through the flames, but Valentine screamed in terror about the fire. The heat walloped his face and caused him to stagger back. This was no paranormal illusion—the fire was real, and blocking their exit.

  He set her on her feet and raced back down the stairs, toward the creature. He had to act fast and knock it out so it would stop setting everything on fire. Valentine followed him down to the cellar’s floor, moving just fast enough to evade the licking flames of the fire. Now the entire stairwell was on fire, destroying their access to the doorway high overhead.

  “The window,” Eli said, as much to himself as to Valentine. “We can still crawl out the window.”

  Whether they went through the window, or up the stairs once the flames settled down, they had to deal with the monster.

  Eli reached for the snow shovel, his only weapon.

  At the same time, the horrible thing swung its wet, inside-out head around and blasted fire at the tool. The shovel’s handle blackened and scorched, but didn’t catch on fire.

  Eli grabbed the handle, ignoring the heat searing his hands. Something creaked.

  He turned his head just in time to see the stairs collapse, weakened by the fire. Now their one escape route was a heap of burning wood. The fire simmered down, unable to find new fuel on the concrete ground, but smoke already filled the cellar, making it difficult to breathe. Eli’s vision blurred from his watering eyes.

  Valentine made a terrified noise, and Eli swung into action. He didn’t think, didn’t assess, just acted.

  He angled the blade of the snow shovel at the gleaming, bloody mass that seemed to be its neck, and jabbed. It howled and took a step back, wobbling on four misshapen legs. He pulled the shovel back to thrust again, but was distracted by what looked like a tiny, wagging dog’s tail, sticking out above what had to be a knee joint.

  The creature seized upon his distraction and bit down on the blade of the snow shovel. It had over a thousand teeth, which crumpled the snow shovel’s square end into a useless, twisted mass. Bone and teeth crunched against metal, then the beast flung the shovel aside like a discarded toy.

  Eli found the shovel with his eyes. He could snap the handle and use the ends as stakes, if only he could get close enough. He coughed. The smoke was getting thicker.

  Valentine found his hand in the murky haze and squeezed it. “The cables,” she said. “We can get some of those wires and use them to do something.”

  “Put a leash on the dog?”

  She coughed from the smoke. “That’s not a dog,” she wheezed.

  From the doorway, above the smoldering, broken steps, came a boy’s voice. “That’s a dragon, Eli.”

  “Joey! Get away from that door!” Eli yelled. “It’s not safe!”

  “I knew it. I knew there was a dragon,” Joey said.

  The beast turned toward the boy, inhaling noisily. Its head tilted to one side, and Eli got a look at the wound he had inflicted on its neck. The injury was closing up, but slowly.

  It kept turning, moving toward the boy in the doorway. Eli crept toward the discarded snow shovel, keeping his eyes on the creature as it continued to shift. Parts of its hindquarters were no longer wet-looking, but covered in something that shimmered, like feathers, or scales.

  “Get away from the door!” Valentine yelled.

  Joey didn’t move, though. He stood transfixed, motionless.

  The cellar filled with an awful roar. The creature was now tall enough to reach up and bite Joey with its enormous jaw. It lumbered toward the small boy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  As its head got closer to the boy, both Eli and Valentine yelled again for Joey to get away from the door and run for help.

  Joey stood his ground. “This is why I bought a sword,” he said. Through the smoky haze, two glinting objects fell from the doorway and landed at Eli’s feet.

  These were the treasures Joey bought at the Renn Faire: a gleaming sword and shield. They were made of metal, and not the simple plastic or wooden child’s toys Eli had expected.

  Eli reached down for the sword and shield, shimmering like magical objects under the smoky haze. Were they magic, or just finely crafted? He wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the sword, and the handle for the shield.

  Perfect.

  Never in his life had two objects felt more natural in his hands.

  Eli stood tall and thrust the blade into the animal’s feather-dotted hindquarters. It howled and turned on him, flames shooting from its mouth and nostrils.

  Eli moved his shield arm to block the incoming blast of flame. He advanced on the beast and withdrew the sword from its flesh.

  Of course he knew a
broadsword wasn’t for parrying and thrusting, but he’d done what his instincts told him to. Now he gripped the sword and used it properly—for hacking.

  He chopped and whacked, cleaving through muscle and sinew.

  The beast retaliated with another blast of flame, which Eli deflected. The shield heated up, but did its job.

  Eli advanced, landing harder blows, this time to a leg. Parts fell away.

  He heard a male voice—Khan.

  The creature roared and growled, louder than any of the humans.

  Khan couldn’t get down to the cellar, but shouted something from the doorway. A ladder. The servers. A program. Other things. Eli heard words, but they were as meaningless as abstract shapes floating down through the smoke.

  Eli battled, hacking and slashing, deflecting flames, his sword and shield extensions of his body.

  He gained ground, pushing it back toward the wall of servers. Hope glimmered in his heart. The sword was working.

  He was breathing hard, using every bit of strength in his body and holding nothing in reserve. The creature, however, seemed to be pacing itself. It held him off with one raised leg while the others regenerated, snapping and popping new muscles into place.

  The air filled with the reek of sulphur. Wind whistled past Eli’s ears, stirring his damp hair, as the creature sucked in air to stoke its internal furnace. His enemy hadn’t shot fire for a while. It’s saving up for a big blast, Eli realized with horror.

  He kept hacking, sending chunks of meat flying as fast as they could regenerate. His own muscles screamed, telling him he couldn’t swing the sword one more time, but he kept going.

  In the back of Eli’s mind, he had a curious thought. Would the creature roast them and eat them, or would it take his body, rip it into components, and use Eli’s parts to make itself stronger? As his muscles depleted their energy stores, and his chopping swings slowed down, he noticed the detail in a section of its shoulder. There were two eyes peering back at him, from a face within its body.

  Eli shuddered at what he saw. It wasn’t just two eyes. There were dark, beady eyeballs all over it, and they glared back at him with malevolence, as if to say, you will join us, human meat. Come, embrace your destiny.