Grave Beginnings (The Grave Report, Book 1)

by Virdi, R. R

  “Fine fine,” he grumbled dejectedly, “what do you want to know?”

  I started by showing Norman’s drivers license photo and then put both my hands on either side of my face, framing it to accentuate my point.

  “Interesting,” he mused.

  “Not the word I would’ve gone for considering that he ended up in a grave,” I retorted.

  “What else?” he asked.

  I told him Norman’s job and how he had somehow managed to get a pad in upper Manhattan, get a Rolex, premium credit cards and come to drive a classic car.

  He let out a low whistle.

  “Yeah not too shabby for a museum curator huh Gnosis?”

  He shook his in agreement.

  “So?” I said, letting the question hang in the air.

  “That’s not much to go on Graves, you’ll have to give me something more and not to mention this will take time.” He replied.

  “How much time? I need answers now.”

  “Then you had better give me more information, you’re case isn’t the only thing in my world at the moment, I’m preoccupied.” I said roughly.

  “What’s up?”

  “Somebody stole from me,” he said simply except with him it wasn’t so simple, when he found that somebody they were going to pay, big time.

  It was my turn to let out a low whistle, “who’s dumb enough to steal from you?”

  “You’d be surprised Graves, in fact, I’m constantly surprised by the stupidity of your species and yet you surprise me by not being nearly so dumb as the rest of your kind.”

  “Gee thanks, what can I say, I’m an overachiever.”

  He snorted.

  What the hell?

  “What did they steal,” I asked, trying to change the subject from the degradation of well, me.

  I could here his teeth grinding when he spoke, “they stole several gemstones that I had passed down throughout my family, they were stolen from a great descendant of mine. Those gems mean a great deal me.”

  “Ah gotcha, somebody stole your family jewels huh, well I’m certain you’ll have your hands back on them soon enough.”

  He titled his head and just stared at me.

  “Yeah that wasn’t uh…yeah…” I said trailing off.

  He didn’t say anything but I was sure he was changing his opinion of me and the whole not as stupid as everyone else thing, I’m pretty sure I was now ranked alongside everyone else in the stupid category.

  “Uh how about we get back to the whole helping me out with my case huh?” I said, attempting to bring the subject back to my investigation and off of his stolen jewels.

  “Yes, let’s,” he said simply.

  “When I went digging around the museum for leads, several people told me that Norman was very involved with one of the new exhibits they plan on displaying.” I informed Gnosis.

  “What is the nature of the exhibit?” he inquired.

  “Ah, it’s Middle Eastern Antiquities and things of the sort’s,” I answered.

  “Hmm, that doesn’t help much either, did you find anything curious in your search?”

  “Nope, nothing, zilch.” I replied.

  “You’re not making this easy Graves,” he grumbled.

  “If it were easy then I wouldn’t require the services of one of the worlds best information brokers.” A little flattery never hurts, supernatural creatures have egos too and they needed to be stroked every now and again.

  “I am the best information broker in the world Grave’s…don’t forget that.” He replied firmly.

  “Well then, this shouldn’t be all too hard for you then should it?” I retorted.

  He just grunted.

  “I do remember something else,” I began.

  “Which is?” he asked.

  I had to be very careful in explaining this next bit to him; I couldn’t let him know about the whole soul torn part and being rescued by Church. Not because of my pride or something but I couldn’t let him know that something like that could actually be done to me. As far as I knew, nothing has ever tried that before on me or even knew about it or much less how to do it. Most beings, Gnosis included obviously, knew that I could be killed physically but then I’d just come back again. I couldn’t risk Gnosis knowing that there was a way to actually harm my soul and I couldn’t let him know about Church. Church knew of Gnosis but I wasn’t exactly sure if Gnosis knew of Church, amazing information broker or not, I wasn’t going to risk that.

  I took a deep breath before beginning and then told him about overhearing the distorted conversation and Norman making some sort of deal.

  “Now that is interesting,” he mumbled more to himself than me.

  “Was painful too,” I added.

  “And the creature made no mention of how exactly it killed Norman?” he asked.

  “No, all it did was tell the other person that it was responsible for his death and that technically it was Norman’s fault.” I replied.

  “Hmm, it must have been referring to the deal.”

  “That’s what I was thinking but what I don’t know is that did it kill Norman after the deal was made as like payment? Or, did whatever deal Norman made actually get him killed?” I asked.

  “Interesting questions, I’m not sure at the moment, but deals…hmm,” he mused.

  “I think that must narrow it down to a handful at least right? I mean I haven’t run across anything that makes deals at all but there can’t be many things out there that do right?”

  “No, not many, not many at all. But still enough that we cannot be sure with what you’re dealing with,” Gnosis replied.

  “Well give me something, you are the best information broker after all.” I dryly.

  “I’m not omniscient Graves,” growled Gnosis. It was odd seeing something so small growl at me, it would have been somewhat adorable if you know, he couldn’t bludgeon me to a pulp.

  “Well whatever it is, it was able to knock me out without coming in physical contact with me, does that help?” I asked, being careful not to mention that it had actually tried to rip my soul from Norman’s body.

  “No, it only raises more questions,” he said frowning.

  “Great,” I said sarcastically, “more of those and no answers.”

  “How then do you suppose you get an answer or any answer for that matter Graves?” He remarked.

  “You give ‘em to me?” I quipped.

  “You ask a question,” he answered.

  “Right, well now I’m asking what the hell killed Norman frickin’ Smith!” I snarled.

  He shrugged rather nonchalantly.

  “Wait a minute,” I said a loud, “this thing likes to make deals right?”

  “It would appear so,” Gnosis replied.

  “It was rhetorical, I was talking to myself,” I grumbled.

  “Then perhaps you should refrain from speaking aloud when talking to yourself, especially so when you happen to be talking to someone with of whom you were asking a multitude of questions.” He said rather smugly, there was a tiny little grin on his bearded little face.

  “Next time, I think I’ll let the troll eat the short smart ass Gnome, trust me when I say that you won’t be the snack that smiles back!” I said wryly.

  His smile quickly vanished.

  Damn straight, respect!

  “What I was getting at Gnosis was that maybe this thing didn’t only make a deal with poor Norman here. I’m thinking that maybe it’s tried to do in other people, I mean why not right? Most monsters will keep going at it if the pickings are there and this is the American Museum of Natural History, there are thousands of people coming in everyday. And then there are the full time employees who are there constantly and it’s easy access to get one of them. So maybe there are some other employees who might know what this thing is, maybe it’s had dealings with other employees.” I rattled off rapidly.

  “Not to mention the fact that you mentioned it was also speaking to someone else, someone who did
n’t handle the notion of murder too well,” Gnosis added.

  “Right,” I said nodding, “it’s got a buddy at the museum.”

  “Or something like a hostage,” Gnosis replied. “If it’s as dangerous as you make it out to be, then it’s quite possible that the employee isn’t helping it by choice.”

  “Great,” I muttered, “now I have to save somebody else in addition to ganking the monster and solving the case.”

  “Isn’t that what you do?” Gnosis asked.

  “Not really, although I guess sometimes, it wasn’t really in the job description.” I answered.

  Gnosis snorted rather derisively, “as if you had a job description and if you did, what then would it say? Face it Graves, you pretty much do what you are forced to do,” he chortled.

  “You don’t know anything about me Gnosis, anything.” I snarled angrily.

  “You’re right,” he conceded, “but I know a bit about who you were.”

  What?

  “You know something about my past? My real past?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  He smiled, it was a shark like thing, all teeth, and it was terrifying, “Of course,” he replied.

  This diminutive little creature knew something about who I was, who I really was before I had died, I had to know. I had no clue how I had been thrust into this life, about who I was before, about what killed me; this could end all of it.

  But Gnosis had no intention of telling me, he made that painfully clear by saying it out loud before I could even ask.

  “Graves, I know what you’re thinking and the answer is no,” he said with utter finality.

  “Why?!” I growled.

  “Because,” he began, “as you know, all knowledge has a price and you have nothing to pay for the value of this information.” He finished.

  “But…” I started.

  “Nothing, Graves.”

  I’m sure he could hear my teeth grating; he’s lucky that I have immense levels of restraint because I wanted to throttle the ugly little Gnome and force it out of him!

  “I suggest you stick to you current case,” he said, trying to get me to drop the subject.

  It worked, he was right; this case was first priority…for now and I made sure to let him know.

  “Fine, we drop this for now, but Gnosis, you’re going to give me that info,” I said in a dangerously quiet tone.

  He didn’t respond, blink or make any acknowledgement that he had heard me. It didn’t matter though, he knew that I was dangerous and could carry out my threat if I wanted. He may have been stronger than me but I knew how to hurt and kill all manner of supernatural creatures easily and that included Gnomes.

  “So back to my case then, I want any and all information you have about any employees in the past month or so that have had incredible bouts of luck. Anything out of the ordinary happen to them, winning the lottery, amazing changes in appearances, strange and or sudden deaths, the works. I want to know anything and everything about anyone to come through that museum who has had any dramatic changes occur in their lives, good or bad.”

  Gnosis nodded in agreement.

  “And Gnosis,” I said, letting the words linger in the air for a moment, “I want that info tonight.”

  He inhaled so sharply it sounded more like a hiss than anything else. “Tonight!?” he said incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  I could hear his tiny little teeth grinding away in his jaw, good, now he knew what it felt like. He had to comply, as I said before, there are a lot of rules when dealing with the supernatural and when you do deal, both sides have to follow them. The rules aren’t suggestions or guidelines, they’re iron clad binding agreements, we dealt, we agreed and now he had to deliver and he knew it.

  “Fine!” he snapped, “but this is a tall order.”

  “Step up, little man.”

  “You’re pushing it Graves,” he replied angrily.

  I gave him an indifferent shrug, I was angry, angry at the fact that he knew something about me and refused to share it. Maybe there were rules about trading information and such but still, it was my past, I had a right to be angry about it.

  “Don’t burn bridges with those that can help you Graves,” he warned.

  “Well, we’ll see just how helpful you are Gnosis. Info. Tonight.” I said with such finality that made sure he knew our conversation was over. I started walking away from him at a pretty calm pace when he called out.

  “Graves, don’t bother calling me again.”

  I replied without even turning or breaking my stride, “you still owe me one Gnosis, till we’re even I’m calling you whenever the hell I feel like it.”

  I told you, you have to be rough with the supernatural, it’s like being the new kid at school. You either put on you’re best scowl and make people respect you, or they walk right over you. I may have been amazingly rude to Gnosis but it reminded him not to screw with me or screw me over on the info. Maybe he didn’t like me anymore after that conversation but so what, he respected me and maybe was a little bit wary of me. Those two are infinitely more important in my line of work than being liked.

  I walked on through the park for a while, thinking to myself, trying to sort through everything that had happened to me recently. It was a maddening mess in my head, trying to put together the pieces of Norman’s murder, the conversation with Gnosis and the fact that the little imp knew something about my past. It was too much, so I decided to stick with focusing on Norman’s murder, all I knew about that was whatever killed him could do hurt you from a distance. Not to mention that it liked to make deals.

  Two very ambiguous bits of information, I knew a lot of things that could attack someone from a distance but nothing that had a penchant for making bargains.

  I figured the best thing to do would be to head back to Norman’s place and wait for Gnosis to deliver on the info I needed. I really didn’t want to sit around waiting, wasting my already diminishing time line but I didn’t have much of a choice. So that’s what I did, I headed off back to what I guess was home for now, whistling as I walked through Central Park.

  Chapter Six

  As I walked through the park, I noticed a small figure off in the distance, watching me. They were short compared to Norman, maybe about five six? They were far enough that I couldn’t make out any of their features or the coloring of their clothes; all I could make out was that they were wearing a hoodie and sweats. They were watching me intently, too intently.

  They were spying on me! They had probably tailed me to the park and were watching to see whom I had met with, that means they must’ve seen Gnosis. I had a hunch that this was person who was working with whatever the monster back at the museum was. That meant if I caught the little punk I could interrogate them and find out what the hell I was dealing with.

  Apparently that same train of though crossed shorty’s mind because he or she bolted.

  “Damnit,” I swore as I took off after them. Now I can run fast, much faster than the average person and for considerably longer at top speed, another gift of being a soul inhabiting someone else’s body. Even with my enhanced speed, Short Round was still somehow able to outrun me, constantly putting more and more distance between us, which was definitely not normal.

  They were either on some form of paranormal speed or were something paranormal themselves.

  I kept running after them, tearing out of one of the park’s entrances and hitting the street hard. They were sprinting unnaturally fast through the sidewalk, barreling into people and pushing many aside. At least I still had a fairly clear line of sight on them even though it was night. I could see them about two hundred feet, give or take, ahead of me.

  I guess they had finally gotten tired of running or had gotten smart because they stopped quickly and bolted into the doors of the nearest building.

  I pumped my legs harder to catch up and also came to a stop when I reached the building they had gone running into.

  A familiar and in
toxicating aroma filled my nose and caused my stomach to grumble painfully once again. I was back at the Golden Tiger; shorty had gotten clever and decided to try and blend into a larger crowd I guess.

  This was great for me though, now they were trapped in the restaurant and if I could find them, I would not only get myself some real info but maybe be able to grab a meal because I was starving.

  I rubbed my hands together excitedly and walked towards the entrance of the restaurant, which had a small bronze tiger statue on either side of the door. Except, the tiger statue on the right side of the entrance was missing…

  …There was a deep guttural sound behind me, several restaurant patrons who were sitting near the glass windows turned to look in my direction and began shrieking.

  “Oh, sonuvabitch!” I swore under my breath as I whirled about to see no doubt the monster that was right behind me.

  “Holy shit,” I yelped when I actually saw the source of the noise. Standing not more than three feet in front of me was a full sized tiger…made of solid gold!

  Now even in the supernatural world that’s weird. Somehow the tiny little garden sized bronze statue of the tiger had found a way to become a full sized beast made of solid gold, and oh yeah, it was fucking alive!

  Now I’ve dealt with many a supernatural creature before and been inside a number of skilled and talented people, none of that prepared me for this.

  So I ran.

  The one advantageous thing about being a soul in a dead person’s body is that I have enhanced limits of a sort. I don’t get tired as quickly or as easily as most people, I’m considerably stronger than most people and I can push a body past its natural limits, for a while. It’s kind of like being a zombie, minus the rotting, the stench and just well, the general stupidity and lust for brains. It’s like those moments where you see soccer moms being able to lift up a mini van whilst on an adrenaline rush, I can do that almost all the time.

  So when I run, I run damn fast, which in most cases would leave whatever’s tailing me far behind. But of course, today being the day I just couldn’t catch a break, this eight hundred pound plus golden tiger was still managing to hang onto my borrowed ass.