Blood Goblet

by J. P. Rice

  We crossed the street and she walked up to the single-story unit on the end. She shoved the key in the knob on the door marked WHORE, and whispered, “Jealous ex-boyfriend.”

  She held her finger in front of her lips, inhaled and held her breath as she entered the house.

  I went to follow her in and a foul odor of spoiled onions and stale beer hit me in the face. Still tiptoeing, Glenda ran her hand along the wall and the room lit up. The simple one floor set up appeared to be a bedroom in the front and a kitchen in the back. The two rooms were separated by a sheet, although the piece of fabric only covered half the opening.

  “We’re home,” she announced and placed her Barrett gently into its padded carrying case. “What do you think? It’s too much, right? Too much decoration?” She smirked and set her cans of beer down.

  “It’s too much something,” I agreed, trying to take it in.

  I glanced around the room at the hundreds of empty beer cans scattered haphazardly around the room. Then I checked out an old couch with mismatched cushions. In front of the couch sat a coffee table with overflowing ashtrays and next to that was an end table with some strange plants on it.

  Upon further inspection, the Outback carry out bags on the floor unraveled the smelly mystery. They weren’t plants, but blooming onions that she’d let sit out for who knows how long. The green mold covered the onion sprouts and gave it the appearance of a Chia Pet.

  She used her left arm to sweep a couch cushion full of beer cans clean. The aluminum cans clunked against the other cans lying on the floor. She gestured with a welcoming hand for me to sit down. I navigated around the maze of beer cans and other clutter to sit down on the couch.

  A flat screen TV hung on the far wall, but as I looked closer, the screen had a huge crack running down the middle. “Nice place,” I commented, trying to hide my grin.

  Glenda laughed and said, “We both know it’s a shithole.”

  “No. Not at all. I mean, if you cleaned it up a little bit, it could be a shithole.”

  She chuckled and cracked another beer. As she drank the beer with one hand, she used the other one to dig into her tight jeans and pry out a pack of Newports. Using one hand, she flipped open the hardpack with her thumb, shook it so a few cigarettes poked out of the top and plucked out a smoke with her lips.

  She dropped the pack and lowered the beer to rest on her thigh. She held the smoke in her mouth and dug back into her pocket. Her right hand emerged with a purple Bic lighter. She sparked the cigarette, hit it twice and pulled the butt away from her lips.

  She turned toward me, exhaling a cloud of smoke in my face. Slightly minty. I fanned the haze away and asked the question again, “What did you mean by old grudge?”

  Glenda leaned back into her grungy couch and kicked her feet up on the coffee table. “Well, as you can plainly see from my accommodations, I am a successful businesswoman. I used to do a lot of business with the Purple Clan, acting as a middleman between the blood banks and them. As you might be privy to knowing, they cut out the middleman. I offered a few more of my services and thought we had an agreement.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, shit. I need to explain something so that you understand me. Look into my eyes right now.”

  A ferocious look came over her face as we locked eyes. “I don’t have much material goods in this world. You see.” She pointed around the filthy room. “I don’t give a fuck about anything worth money. I have my pride and dignity. Don’t you ever fuck with that. It might not seem like much, but the vamps pissed me off because they agreed to work with me after the blood bank stuff. Then they went back on their word and cut me out for no reason. I was offering them better deals and better products than the people they decided to work with. I know that shit and it pissed me off.”

  She took a gulp of beer. “I bided my time and when someone heard the rumor that the vamps were going to kill you, I seized the opportunity.”

  I spoke nasally. “Did you do it because you love me?”

  Glenda rolled her eyes. “Psshh, don’t flatter yourself, nerd. You said you would pay me a bonus if I did a good job on this trip to Japan.”

  I thought for a few moments. “I never said that.”

  She flashed a smile and waggled her thick eyebrows. “You wanna reconsider?”

  “Considering you performed the noble act before even asking me, I will give you a nice bonus, so you can get a nicer car. Hint. Hint. Maybe a bulletproof one.” I saw right through her act. She pretended like she’d saved me for the money, but I knew she had done that shit for revenge. “Wait, did Felix even say anything about me?”

  “No. He just texted me that day of the trip and said it was canceled. He did say he had a huge problem to take care of, but no specifics,” she explained.

  That son of a bitch. If Felix had been kidnapped, I would have rounded up a huge search party and kicked in the front door of the Purple House like Glenda just had. Where the fuck was his little ass at?

  Glenda Gold was a stone cold, frosty-hearted, vengeful bitch that I had to be careful not to cross. I had to remember that I was paying her too. Most people weren’t assholes toward the people that paid them, until after they got paid.

  But she had saved my life. There was no denying that.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket, surprised the vampires hadn’t confiscated it. I opened it up and checked for tracking devices, but it appeared clean. “Do you have a phone charger? I need to buy us some plane tickets and I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go home tonight. Roydell and Timson know exactly where I live.” Alayna had taken Dante to the Deep Burrow or I would have raced home to protect them.

  “That’s fine. You can stay here. Those boys probably won’t be out and about for a little while. Reflect your gratitude with that bonus. And no, I don’t have a phone charger for that kind of phone.”

  I caught something out of my peripheral. The yellow doorknob started to turn, and the door opened toward us. Glenda jumped off the couch and grabbed the Barrett. She aimed at the opening door.

  Chapter 20

  Glenda screamed, “State your name, motherfucker.”

  A female voice came through the opening, “It’s Lilly, you crazy bitch.”

  “Oh.” Glenda lowered the weapon.

  I asked, “Who is Lilly?”

  “My roommate,” Glenda explained putting her rifle back in its plastic case.

  Two people lived here? Yikes. The young woman walked into the room and dropped her purse on the floor. She pointed at me. “Who’s this?”

  Lilly was a tiny creature, especially compared to Glenda. She took off her coat and threw it on the floor. Her pale, skinny arms contained two full sleeves of bright colored tattoos. I couldn’t make out the entire design, but it seemed to be mermaid themed. She had a long nose and kept flaring her nostrils as she stared holes in me with her gray eyes.

  I stood up and extended my hand, “Hi, I’m Mike Merlino.”

  She stared at my hand skeptically and looked at Glenda, who nodded and said, “He’s all right?”

  She shook my hand as she said, “Lilly Vigrass. It’s a pleasure. Sorry but you never know who you can trust anymore.”

  “I understand,” I said and sat back down on the couch.

  “Did you tell that asshole what I said?” Glenda asked.

  “Yep. Told him if he comes near me again, it’ll be a race between me and you for who gets to cut off his balls first,” she stated with fiery passion.

  Glenda nodded. “Did that wipe the smug smile off his face?”

  “Sure did. I also told him he better pay for someone to clean that shit off our front door. We got any sweet tea left?” Lilly spoke with a southern accent and I liked it.

  “There might be some in the fridge,” Glenda said, pointing to the other room.

  “I’ll check.” She looked at Glenda, then me. “Ya’ll want any?”

  I said, “I’ll take some if you have enough.”

  I’d
almost forgotten the juicy tidbit Lilly had just dropped. Glenda had insinuated that the spray paint on the front door was from one of her ex-boyfriends, not her roommate’s. I liked people who were willing to take the blame to spare others.

  Lilly had a charger that was compatible with my phone, and as I waited for it to charge, the girls got wasted. I sipped on some delicious sweet tea and wondered about Felix.

  Why had someone whom I barely knew come to rescue me? Felix had been there when I was kidnapped. Was he in cahoots with the vampires? Why hadn’t he tried to help me break out? Probably because I hadn’t paid him in advance. That money hungry motherfucker.

  I started to space out when someone waved a blurry object in front of me. Shaking the cobwebs away, I saw that Lilly was holding out my phone for me. I went on the internet and purchased three tickets to Japan. Then, I texted Felix the information about the flight.

  Last minute tickets to Japan were insanely expensive, but how could I put a price on the safety of Pittsburgh? We were set to leave the next afternoon on our way to fill the Blood Goblet.

  I set my phone down and heard someone snoring. My ears led my eyes to the floor next to the coffee table. Lilly was passed out face down on the ground.

  Glenda’s eyes were barely open as she pointed and said, “Forgive her. She’s still a lightweight.”

  “So how did you develop such a hatred for the supernatural? Was it all from your dealings with the Purple House?” I asked as I leaned back into her couch. I’d gotten used to the pungent odors by now and waited for Glenda to answer.

  She twirled her long hair in her fingers. She exhaled heavily. “I’m going to tell you a story I haven’t told very many people.”

  Glenda turned to face me and put down her beer. “When I was fifteen, I thought I had it all. Living outside of Sao Paolo, I had the greatest boyfriend a girl could ask for. Santiago Perez. We were inseparable. We did everything together. One day, we were out in the forest.”

  She stopped for a moment and picked up her beer. She didn’t take a drink. She just rested it on her thigh and continued, “We were walking near a large stream and my boyfriend thought he saw a dead body in the water. But it wasn’t a dead body. It was a water hillbilly demon. Caboclo d’Água. Before I could warn Santiago, he leaned over the figure. That disgusting one-eyed creature jumped up and pulled my boyfriend into the water.”

  She played nervously with the tab of her beer can, spinning it around and around. “I ran down to save him as a great anger stirred inside me. When I approached the water, two more hillbillies sprang out of the water at me. Without thinking, I extended both hands, and lightning jumped from my fingertips and zapped the two hillbillies.”

  Glenda took a few sips of her beer. “By the time I looked back to the water, only my boyfriend’s hand was above the surface. In an instant, it disappeared along with our hopes for a perfect life. From that moment on, I’ve made it my life’s mission to kill as many supernatural assholes as I can.”

  “I’m sorry about all that.”

  She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve covering her forearm. “It is what it is. I haven’t dated another guy since. Santiago and I will be reunited in heaven one day. That’s why I’m not afraid of death. I’m already dead in my heart, as is everything under my skin. I’m just waiting for the outside to catch up.”

  That explained a hell of a lot. Something inside me screamed to share my painful story. Although I had several painful stories, there was one that I kept buried below all the others. It haunted me more than anything. But due to a recent string of nightmares, it could be therapeutic to get it off my chest.

  I’d only told this story to two people since it had happened nine years ago. Glenda seemed like she could be blackout drunk so I decided to go into the confessional.

  “I have a story like that too. We were just friends, but Julie Whitlock was my best friend when I was fourteen. It was a rough time in my life. I’d bounced around to a bunch of houses after my mom died and I hated everything the world had to offer. I found a kindred spirit in Julie.”

  I fought back the emotion and continued, “She had been through foster care and we started hanging out all the time after school. We were both dark and morbid, feeding off each other and continuing the downward spiral. We talked about death a lot and soon our conversations shifted to our own deaths.”

  I wanted to grab that can of PBR out of Glenda’s hands and take a big gulp, but I fought away the urge and sat back. “Neither of us could come up with good reasons of why we should continue this charade on earth. We both thought that our next life had to be better than this one.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and went on. “We made a pact. Julie was going to steal two pistols from her father’s gun cabinet and we were going to use them. To commit suicide.”

  I looked down, ashamed. “We went to this place in Bosley Woods where people went to shoot guns for target practice. We stood near that crooked oak tree. Face to face. Heart to heart. Two tortured souls ready to escape to a new adventure.”

  Tears welled up in my eyes. “We put the barrels against our temples, smiled at each other and counted to three. My gun went click. Her’s didn’t. Hearing those vampire’s guns clicking when they ran out of bullets reminded me of it. I can still see it like it’s happening right now. Right here. It’s almost palpable. And do you know what I did?”

  I turned to Glenda, who had tears running down her plump cheeks. She just shrugged and shook her head.

  I said, “I ran. Left her there like she was a piece of trash. I took the gun and threw it in the river and I acted like it never happened. I never called the cops. I never told her worried parents. I didn’t even tell anyone about it until three years later. What kind of a person would do that?”

  Glenda spoke calmly, “A confused fourteen-year-old would. Plus, it’s not like you didn’t pull the trigger. The gun jammed. It happens. Some things are meant to be. Maybe my boyfriend was supposed to die. Maybe you were destined to live. Maybe these crazy experiences in life have brought us together for a reason. You never damn know.”

  She swept her hair behind her ear, exposing a golden crucifix earring. I pointed to it and asked, “Are you religious?”

  “Sure am. I regularly attend church at St. Edwards.”

  I commented, “Holy shit. That’s like right across the street from my house. Small fucking world. But don’t you commit sins on the regular? I mean, I’ve seen you drinking, swearing and killing.”

  She nodded as if she had answered this question before. “Okay. First. Drinking isn’t a sin. Swearing is a weak one. Even some of the most famous Popes in history swore like drunken sailors. I only kill the supernatural. I consider that God’s work since I am trying to keep his creations safe. And there will be a day when I give up this lifestyle. And when I do, I will ask for God to forgive me.”

  I probably could have pressed her on her answers, but my eyes were getting heavy. It felt cleansing to tell the Julie story out loud. Even though I kind of hoped Glenda wouldn’t remember. It had been such a dark period in my life, to this day I had tried to keep it as dark as possible. Time to stuff it back down again and focus on the mission at hand.

  In about twelve hours I would be in Japan, hunting for a legendary demon to fill the Blood Goblet.

  Chapter 21

  After the long flight, train rides and a taxi, I entered the lodge at the base of the mountain. A dozen older Japanese men noticed me and stood up from the picnic tables. As I held the door open, Felix and Glenda walked in. More men sitting on the floor jumped up and yelled at Glenda in Japanese. Judging by their hand motions, they weren’t fond of the lit cigarette dangling from her lips.

  She recognized the message and poked her head back outside. She hit the smoke one more time, flicked it away and came back in.

  I bowed to a small man with a bushy Fu Manchu, and asked, “Is Okumura here? We were sent to see Okumura.”

  The man laughed and looked over
his shoulder at his friends. He yelled something in Japanese and the rest of the group joined in.

  “He is dead,” said the man in English, but with a thick Japanese accent. He punctuated it by raking his index finger across his throat giving the ubiquitous throat slash symbol.

  I didn’t need those kinds of details. “How long has he been dead for?” I asked, wondering what kind of wild goose chase we’d been sent on.

  “Twenty years,” he responded, and everyone chuckled again at our expense.

  You had to be kidding me. Twenty years. Two. Entire. Decades. Almost my entire life. Unbelievable.

  A sudden hush came over the crowd and the men lowered their heads and created an opening. An ancient man appeared through the opening and walked toward us in slow motion. The wrinkled, bald man in red robes was maybe a smidge taller than five foot, but not by much.

  His shoulders were hunched forward, and his long neck caused him to constantly look at the ground as his head bobbed up and down rhythmically with his slow movements. His long mustache hung to his belly. The man stopped three feet in front of us and raised his head. His eyes were almost shut and covered by his bushy eyebrows. I stared closely, and saw gray, almost silver eyes that matched his impressive mustache.

  He smiled and bowed his head. I crouched down and leaned forward to bow lower than him. My back threatened to lock up again as it had on the plane ride. I sprang back up and prompted Felix and Glenda to bow for the man.

  They bowed for the smiling old man, who started speaking in Japanese. The only word I recognized was Okumura. I wondered if this was a relative of Okumura because of the man’s seriousness and solemnity.

  Felix said, “He’s saying that he’s Okumura. At least, I think he is.”

  Were the other men just making jokes because Okumura was so old? I moved closer and asked, “Can you get us to Mount Oe? We are trying to get to Shuten dōji’s castle.”