by Virdi, R. R
Smoke continued pouring into his body and his seizure like movement continued and I quickly understood why his body was spasming out of control. The smoke that was already in him was moving around inside his body in a grotesque fashion, it looked like there was an army of snakes writing right underneath his skin. There were long corded like bulges visible beneath the features of his face, fiercely pulsating and moving under his skin.
Within seconds James had gone from looking like a decrepit ninety year old, to much younger albeit still feeble looking sixty year old and he was getting younger by the second. I’m sure the Ifrit would have kept going if Ortiz hadn’t come around the corner right behind me, gun drawn up at chest level and pointed square at the Ifrit.
“Wha…Nor…what…what are you doing?” stammered a completely horrified Ortiz. She was transfixed at the sight of James spasming and gurgling helplessly, his face contorted in agony as he continued getting younger. Ortiz’s aim wavered a bit and the barrel of the gun began to sink for an instance before she regained her composure and brought it back up to level. “Put. Him. Down!” she said in a tone that was all iron and ice.
“I’m doing him a favor,” replied the Ifrit in a cheery manner, “don’t you want me to restore his youth?”
“Put. Him. Down.” Ortiz repeated just as firmly.
“I don’t think so,” the Ifrit said as she tightened her grip further on his throat, she also stopped the flow of smoke that was coursing through and into James, immediately halting his youthful regression. “I’ll kill him if either of you do not do exactly as I say,” she said in a venomous tone, accentuating her point further by digging her fingers deep into his throat, eliciting a sharp painful gasp from James.
There was part of me, an angry part that still wanted James dead for starting all of this, for letting it get so out of hand, part of me that wanted to say, “yeah, go ahead!” But I suppressed that part, plus, I knew that Ortiz wouldn’t stand by and that happen. Ortiz was a fed, but more than that, she was a good person, she wouldn’t let James die if she could help it. But part of me still wondered, wondered what would happen if James did die? Why didn’t the Ifrit kill James long ago and be done with it?
Ortiz sighed heavily, breaking my chain of thoughts as she said, “alright,” raising both her gun and her free hand up in the air in a gesture of surrender.
“You,” the Ifrit snapped at me, “bring me my vessel,” she commanded.
I scowled at the Ifrit as I began taking a step forwards and then I noticed what was lying on the floor between us. It must’ve landed there after the Ifrit had blown up the guard’s desk, the silver blood stained fire stoker was all but ten feet from me.
She must’ve noticed it too because the next second her voice rang out loudly with authority, “stop!”
I didn’t, I continued walking calmly towards the silver weapon.
The Ifrit’s fingers dug even deeper into his throat, drawing blood this time and she even gave a series of small but harsh shakes, jerking him like a rag doll by the throat to make her point.
“Norman,” called Ortiz in a pleading tone, “stop.”
I ground my teeth in pure frustration, but I stopped.
“Good,” replied the Ifrit, her mouth spreading into that hideously large and disconcerting smile once again. “Now, place the vessel on the ground and kick it over to me,” she instructed.
I knelt slowly and placed the vessel on the ground, setting down on its flat base, trying to figure out a way to kick it that would prevent the side with the seal from scraping across the museum floor. I couldn’t risk screwing up the seal knowing that it wasn’t even empowered, not to mention the fact that I didn’t know if I would get another chance to inscribe to another one should this one be ruined. I pulled my foot back to kick the vessel across the floor to the Ifrit but as my foot was just about to connect with the vessel, I stopped.
I hesitated, something wasn’t right here, I couldn’t tell what but I could just feel it.
“Mortal,” hissed the Ifrit impatiently, giving another violent shake of James, “what are you doing?”
“Norman,” whispered Ortiz, “do it, we can’t let him die, we need him.”
“Yes, Norman,” the Ifrit purred triumphantly, “do it, you need him.” She said, heavily emphasizing you, as she repeated Ortiz’s words with such glee.
A deep guttural and angry burble sound formed in my throat, it never left my mouth but it was audible nonetheless.
The Ifrit’s smile somehow managed to grow even wider after hearing the anger rising in my throat, she enjoyed seeing me mad, good, because I was planning on getting a whole helluva lot madder.
Just as I was about the kick the vessel over to her for the second time, a thought struck me and I stopped once again. “No,” I growled.
“What are you doing?” both Ortiz and Ifrit shouted simultaneously.
However after the sudden outburst in stereo, only the Ifrit continued to speak, “stop playing games,” she roared, her body now quivering with rage. “Give. Me. My. Vessel!” she commanded.
“No,” I repeated with iron hard firmness.
“I. Will. Kill. Him.” She said, speaking slowly, threateningly and emphasizing each word, trying to make her threat clear.
“Yeah?” I snarled defiantly, “go ahead!” I dared.
“Norman, what the hell are you doing?” shouted an indignant Ortiz.
I turned back to face her and shot her a quick wolfish smile with a wink that I was hoping had gone unnoticed by the Ifrit. Ortiz didn’t say anything in response but she began chewing on her lip nervously once again, I understood that, backing this play of mine went against her very conscious, she couldn’t and wouldn’t let James die if she could help it. She was trusting me now, not just with finding a way to take down the Ifrit, but in a way, with her own morals, her beliefs. If my plan didn’t work and James did in fact die, there’d be hell to pay and I wasn’t just talking about the Ifrit. On the other hand, if my suspicions were correct, Ortiz and I were just about to gain something very important.
Leverage.
“You heard me, go ahead, kill him!” I said in a challenging tone.
She carefully moved her fingers into a new position on James’ throat before squeezing it to the point of drawing a bit of blood once again. The Ifrit was making quite the show of hurting James but that last maneuver had an awful lot of care in it considering the fact that she kept threatening to kill James. Too much pressure from digging her fingernails into one spot and she would have already pierced something vital, so far all she managed to do was break the surface layer of his skin, causing splotches of blood and red scratch marks. Now she had repeated the process in a different spot, oh sure she drew more blood, it looked bad but we all know looks can be deceiving. She could make all effort she wanted at bleeding James because bleeding ain’t killing and I’m proof of that.
I was done buying her act.
She tightened her grip further, really tightened I mean, not just digging her nails into his flesh but actually crushing his throat. James began to spasm more violently, his legs were kicking all over the place and his face was beginning to lose color. He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this in his elderly and weakened condition, part of me wanted to stop it right there but I held my ground and decided to roll the dice.
It wasn’t like I was gambling with much, only a man’s life, then there was Ortiz and of course me as well, so our lives, oh and the prospect of losing the only guaranteed way of sealing an ancient Jinn with severe anger issues back up.
See, nothing much….
Boy I hoped I was right.
I’ll admit, I was about to start sweating bullets when James’ eyes stopped bulging and began to flutter weakly. He wasn’t gasping desperately for breath either; it was quieter, much shallower. But before things got any worse; the Ifrit had loosened her hold at James right when he was on the brink, James didn’t immediately start gasping for air which would have been a good
sign, but he didn’t die either. James had passed out from the lack of oxygen.
“Be careful mortal,” the Ifrit warned, visibly flexing her fingers around James’ throat, “a little more,” she said while giving a quick firm squeeze to his throat, “and he will die.”
I gave an indifferent shrug. Behind me I could hear Ortiz mumble a string of curses under her breath while still chewing on her lower lip.
“Last chance to do as I say, mortal,” she cautioned, “remember that you need him and then,” she said in a pleasurable tone as she turned to look at Ortiz, “your companion won’t let me kill him, will she?” asked the Ifrit, savoring Ortiz’s predicament.
Yahtzee! I had just gotten all that I needed.
“And what about what you need him for?” I asked.
The Ifrit’s wide pleased smile slipped away and was replaced by a look of complete bewilderment; the question had caught her completely off guard.
It was my turn to finally smile and I made it a big one, “what’s the matter,” I taunted, “cat got your tongue? I asked you a question, what do you need him for?”
“What…do you mean?” the Ifrit asked hesitantly, I could hear the confusion her voice.
“My God are you dense!” I said rather dramatically, “I mean, what do you need him for, as in why is he still alive at all? Why not kill him the moment you were let out? You’ve killed a small group of people already, so why is he still alive?”
No answer, she just stared back at me in silent confusion.
“See, I don’t think you will kill him,” I began, the Ifrit’s eyes narrowing in anger and she gave another firm and dangerous looking squeeze to James’ throat, looking being the operative word. “Oh I know you want to kill him,” I continued, “but you won’t….” I said trailing off as a new thought occurred to me, “or…you can’t, can you?” I said in sudden realization.
If the Ifrit was confused and in shock before, I sure as hell had no idea what she was now, her features totally blank, I mean completely and utterly dumbstruck with no clue what to do.
“I was wondering why you only killed a few museum employees instead of a whole mess of people,” I said.
“Explain,” demanded the Ifrit, only her voice didn’t have the authoritative strength that it did a little bit ago, when she was threatening James. At the moment, the Ifrit’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, it trembled, she was afraid.
“You’ve been loose for what, near about a month now, give or take?” I asked, “and in all that time you’ve never once targeted a regular museum visitor, only a few employees, people James knew. Hell, you were never far from James, you never once tried to leave to museum. You could’ve killed me at any time but you didn’t, you always got something else to do it, first you created the tiger, then you enthralled the wraith and so on.”
“Yes,” replied the Ifrit in quiet anger, “and you were one of the people I killed, as you said, the list is very small, so why then are you still alive?” she asked, leaning forwards curiously.
I could feel Ortiz’s eyes boring a hole into the back of my head, “don’t change the subject!” I snapped at the Ifrit. “Why didn’t you ever bother to leave the museum, to get away from James, there’s a whole world out there for you to kill and get your rocks off with your whole revenge against humans thing.”
“Norman,” hissed Ortiz, “I don’t think you should be encouraging this thing to go on a killing spree!”
“I’m just making a point Ortiz,” I said calmly.
“And what is your point?” asked the Ifrit impatiently, her voice once again taking on its booming loud tone.
“My point is all of it, everything I asked, why didn’t you do any of it?”
The Ifrit was stunned once again, it’s creepy knife filled mouth worked silently in confusion, “I…did not wish to be revealed, I…preferred exacting my revenge in concealment.” She answered hesitantly.
“Yeah huh,” I said disbelievingly, “and you needed concealment why? What could’ve stopped you, hell we’ve barely been able to stop, you’re one tenacious bitch, I’ll give you that.” The irony of asking all the questions was that I was answering them myself the more I followed through my chain of thoughts, I was realizing more and more as I continued. “You never left the museum…because James never did, did he?”
The Ifrit resumed her silence.
I understood it all now, “all that talk about hating humans, about them binding you, it wasn’t just about the vessel was it?” I asked more to myself than the Ifrit, I was thinking aloud now and on a roll. “James didn’t just let you out did he? Whatever was done to you to bind in the vessel bound you to it…and whoever lets you out, isn’t that right?”
Her features twisted into a mask of pure fury at that statement.
“It was never about concealment, atleast not for you, James never left the museum because he wanted to hide you! He didn’t want his little secret getting out but it got out anyways didn’t it?”
“Norman, make sense!” shouted a thoroughly perplexed and irate Ortiz.
“The Ifrit never left because James never left, it’s been stuck here because James didn’t want to risk anyone else finding out. That’s why it hasn’t killed a bunch of museum goers, it’s only attacked people James knew, it’s…tethered to him in a way.” I explained, I turned my attention back to Ifrit, “James kept you on a bit of a leash, didn’t he?” I mused.
“He thought he was in control at first,” sneered the Ifrit.
“But he does have a bit though, doesn’t he? That’s why you’ve never tried once to deal with anybody other than a full time museum employee, he kept you close and thus only people you could get your claws on were the ones who spent a lot of time here.”
“Yes,” she growled bitterly.
“Obviously things got out of control, let me guess, after James got his wishes and taste of your power he couldn’t give you up.” I reasoned.
“Obviously,” replied the Ifrit in a snide tone.
“But he realized the danger and risk you posed but is too afraid to do anything about it, so he huddles up in his little room here and busies himself with his work, turning a blind eye to you. You go around prowling the museum and seducing a few people with your offers, killing only a few people, barely satisfying your appetite. You feed on that stuff, their suffering, the pain and such, but James kept you close so you must be starving, aren’t you?” I asked with a taunting smile.
Her scowl deepened.
“But wait?” I blurted out in sudden confusion, “what the hell was I chasing back as the park?”
“A shadow.” The Ifrit answered in a voice completely devoid of any tone.
A shadow is essentially a physically tangible illusion, they’re real to an extent, they can be touched and interacted with but in the end, are still fake. Not many creatures can conjure them up but then again, an Ifrit wasn’t an ordinary creature. Atleast now my theory was confirmed; the Ifrit never did nor could leave the museum.
“That explains all of it doesn’t it? James there is your anchor, your one connection to our plane of existence and whatever place it is your vessel locks you up into. Because no offense girlfriend, but there is no way you’re physically squeezing all that ass back into that bottle.” I quipped.
She was absolutely livid now, I mean I could feel her temper, the room began to become insanely hot, I was sweating within seconds.
“So,” I began elatedly, “you’re bound to James, wherever he goes, you can go, if he doesn’t leave, you don’t leave,” I said amusingly. “So, no James…” I said slowly, letting the importance of it hang in the air, “no you.”
The Ifrit’s oblique jet eyes widened.
“So you can beat him, torture him, grant any and all of his wishes, feed off him, do whatever it is you were doing to him before with all that smoke,” I rattled off, “But. You. Can’t. Kill. Him.” I said matter of factly, “meaning you’ve just lost your only leverage,” I finished with a wol
fish smile.
Apparently Ortiz had really taken my earlier comment about making her shots count to heart. The report of the first shot surprised us all, especially me considering the fact that sailed harmlessly but dangerously close by me. I could feel the round whiz past as it rocketed towards the Ifrit with deadly accuracy and impacted the creature right in its left eye. The round shattered the Ifrit’s black jewel like eye with explosive force, sending crystalline shards spurting out as the round continued into the Ifrit’s skull. That’s when Ortiz and I truly witnessed the devastating effect the blood covered rounds had, the Ifrit’s head jerked back brutally as plume of silver white fire tinged with red, erupted from her eye socket. The sinister micro explosion instantly disfigured the area surrounding the Ifrit’s left eye socket as well the upper portions of her lip on the same side.
The Ifrit didn’t make a single sound the moment Ortiz’s first shot struck her in the eye, the only movement she had made was dropping James to floor, that and of course having her head snapped back.
I let out a low whistle of appreciation and thought, damn good job Gnosis!
Ortiz didn’t waste a single moment, while I was mulling around in my head paying compliments to an asinine gnome, she was busy firing off her second round in a center mass shot. The second round struck dead center, several inches beneath the breastbone; it was a perfect shot to the solar plexus. The second the bullet struck the Ifrit her entire body jerked in an odd fashion, her body snapped into a completely rigid state with her chest-thrusting forwards, head and arms thrust back. It was very similar to the pose a gymnast strikes after a dismount only the following part didn’t happen, once again a plume of silvery white and red fire burst from the Ifrit’s body, leaving a gaping hole in her chest.
The third shot rang out and hit the Ifrit directly in the liver; she doubled over just as third and final plume of fire erupted from her torso. Ortiz and I stood there completely motionless, watching as the Ifrit just hung silently in her doubled over state, no movement whatsoever. Seconds later and in unnatural slowness, the Ifrit’s form began sinking towards the ground, folding forwards into a lifeless heap.