by Shaun Meeks
I put on some clothes and sit down with a coffee and some music as I look over the file Garcia gave me. It’s grim reading, but there’s not much new here. What Garcia told me on the drive over is more than enough. The only thing I can get out of this are the photos. There are clear pictures of the symbol and some of the slime at different crime scenes. Then I get to the heartbreaking ones; blood in the kid’s room, the dead dog and the lost shoe. There’s also one of a blue blanket laying on a lawn with blood on it and after reading a little more I see this is from the babysitter’s house; it was the little boy’s favourite blankie. I’m not really used to this. Part of me thinks I’m not really cut out for it. Normally I deal with monsters and creatures from other worlds, beasts in horrific looking forms. Hell, I even fought a giant, tentacle monster without batting an eye. But this kind of thing is way out in left field for me and is not really my forte. This is some vile crap that makes my hairs stand on end. Leave it to a human to show me what a real monster is.
I pick up my cell and dial a number I have stored. It’s picked up on the second ring.
“What you need now, Dillon?” Godfrey asks with his thick Jamaican accent, despite the fact that he’s not even from this planet. I’ve always wondered if the accent came with the form or if it’s a bit of a put on so he seems more human than he is.
“I don’t need anything really. I want to stop by and show you something. You’re a fountain of information. I know you love the Earthly occult stuff, so who better to ask than my good friend?”
“Mon, you’re so full of shit, you’re teeth are turning brown. Why you buttering me up so much? Is this some kind of joke you want to pull on me?”
“No joke here. I’m helping some people out. Let me just say that some sick people are out there and the people hunting them down are looking for some help.”
There’s a pause and I knew there would be. He’s considering what I’m saying because he could get in trouble for it. We both could.
“Look, Mon, I’m not looking to go start anything with actual humans.” His voice is low and serious, something I’m not used to. It’s almost as though he’s actually afraid of what it is I might want help with, and in a way, I can guess why. “You best not either. Hunting down humans is not allowed. I don’t need that kind of heat on me, Dillon.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, and hope to make him feel better. I know the rules about getting involved in human affairs or even hunting one down, so that’s not what this is. I need him to know it’s all good on my end if I want him to help me with this. “I’m only consulting for this one. Helping out an old friend and a cop I’m hoping I can use as a resource later on.”
“Oh, fuck the police!” he blurts out in a near growl. “Assholes come here every now and then and call me voodoo man, or devil worshipper! The devil worships me, not the other way around.” He laughs at that and I go along with it.
“I’m sure he does. So, can I stop by and just ask you your expert opinion? Maybe this guy can help get the uniformed a-holes to lay off you too?”
“I’m sure he won’t, but for a good customer like my friend Dillon, I will do what I can. When will you stop by?”
“Fifteen minutes. I need to get a cab.”
“You ain’t driving that old shit box?”
“Afraid not. My car is no longer part of this world,” I tell him, and feel something close to sadness and loss at the thought of my long, lost baby.
“Ashes to ashes and all that. More like good riddance. That thing was an eyesore and a death trap.”
“Yeah, well, I liked it and that’s all that mattered. I’ll see you soon, Godfrey,” I say, and hang up. How dare he insult my car. It was a classic. That thing had been with me for longer than anything else in this world. It had seen me though countless jobs, meals and many a lonely night. It knew my favourite radio stations and I knew all of the bumps and curves of it’s less than perfect body. Now, it’s gone and I feel sad to know I’ll never see it again.
In a way, that car was my first love. So if Godfrey keeps it up, I may have to put a foot up his ass and teach him not to speak ill of the dead.
The cab I take smells like sour milk and Cool Ranch Doritos. I like eating those chips, but man do they have a funk to them and this cab is ten times worse than that. I open the window to try to breathe some fresh air, but all that comes in is the exhaust of other cars and I start to miss my old beauty even more. At least it was my own kind of stink and I had A/C.
On the way I text Rouge and tell her I hope everything went well picking up the pup and I hope to see her soon. She sends one back almost instantly saying she can’t wait and not to work too hard. She then asks how the ride with Garcia was and I tell her it was more fun than an open casket funeral. She isn’t surprised.
The cab pulls up to the curb and I quickly hand him the cash and get the hell out of there. I worry for a second that I’m going to bring the odour with me, but luckily I’m safe. I don’t smell like old sneakers filled with stale chips.
I walk over to Godfrey’s store, if that’s what you want to call it. It’s pretty nondescript. There’s no sign over the door, no way to look in and see what to expect. Today he has dirty sheets hanging in the window and another covering the glass to the door leading inside. You’d think it was an empty space, somewhere waiting to be leased, but that’s the way he runs it. Back when I first met him I thought he just wanted to be left alone, but he explained he goes it to keep all the lookie-loos out. Even so, there have been plenty of times I’ve gone in there to find some hipster or other lost soul getting ripped a new one for coming in and wasting Godfrey’s time. He has little patience even on his best day.
There’s a brass bell over the door that jingles a strange tone as I enter and within seconds the tall man with a huge frame comes out, looking as menacing as ever. Lucky for me, I’m someone he wants to see so a smile unravels on his face, shining overly white teeth at me. He walks towards me, arms outstretched and hands open.
“Dillon, my favourite customer, and as you said, my good friend. I like the idea of being friends with a man like you.” He embraces me and his squeeze is so tight, he makes my head start to throb again. Just when I thought it was going away too. Thanks for that, buddy. “We are friends, right? You weren’t just buttering me up? Hoping to get something from me for free?”
“Damn right we’re friends, but I’d appreciate a little less in the way of anaconda hugs,” I say, nearly gasping.
“Of course, of course,” he says, and laughs as he lets me go so I can breathe again. I take in a long deep breath and the room grows dim for a second, and then brightens to the way it should be. I hope this goes away soon. This is getting ridiculous. “You must still be in pain after the attack and the accident.”
“How did you know that?”
“How does the wind know to blow? How does water know to be wet? Things just are. I have a way of hearing about things. You should know that by now Dillon, especially if you’re my friend.”
He does have a knack for finding things out that he has no right knowing. I have no idea how either. The man not only runs this store, but is kind of imprisoned here. He’s not actually allowed to leave it. Godfrey once did some very bad things in the worlds beyond this one, and this store, this placement was where he was sentenced to spend many centuries. He’s trapped in here, like a prisoner, but he still has arms and ears that reach out and gather not only items I need and he wants for his collections, but information. I’m sure it helps him pass the time.
“I guess so. How’ve you been?” I ask.
“As good as I can, no more, no less. But enough of this. I have a special guest coming to see me soon, so we should keep this as quick as possible. Friend or not, my next appointment is a little shy.”
I’m curious, but I know better than to ask. He loves his secrets and his privacy. I’m the only hunter he works with since I
’m the one who works this sector of the world, but he has dealings with a lot of others. Some bring him items I end up using, others obtained illegal items to Earth, which he collects. I’m sure he also has his fingers into other things that might be even worse, but it’s not my business what he does here. As long as he doesn’t ever burn me again like he did in the past, or leave here, he’s good to go in my books. If he were to go out of these walls, then I guess the friendship I offered him would be over. He’d be just like any other that shouldn’t be here.
Hunted.
“So,” I begin, and hand the folder to him. “There are four missing kids, presumed dead, but none of their bodies have been found as of yet so there’s no way to know if they’re dead or alive. Investigators didn’t find very much evidence at the scenes other than some blood that was from the kids, slimy stuff that looks like human waste, and a symbol drawn in cow fat. Looks ritualistic in a way, but I’m not sure. There’s something familiar about it, but I can’t put my finger on it. What do you think?”
He’s got all the photos out and I see a look on his face. Even though he’s intently staring at the pictures, I can see it clear as day. It looks like a mix of concern and worry; maybe something bordering on fear even. I can tell he already knows what it is, but he keeps flipping through the pictures, back and forth. He won’t look up at me. So much for being in a hurry. I guess he’ll keep his next client waiting until he has the balls to look up.
“Spill it, Godfrey,” I say, and he shoots a glance at me.
“”What do you mean?” he says, and even though he’s playing coy, I can hear a slight shake to his voice.
“I know you recognize it. Your eyes went all shifty as soon as you looked down at the one with the symbol on it. So, tell me what it is so I can pass it on to the cops and be done with it.”
“I might know what it is, but it doesn’t make sense. Even if it’s what I think it is, you need to drop this now. This goes beyond you.”
I don’t like the way that sounds.
“Just tell me. I have a cop worried and wanting answers. I’d like to give him something at least. If it’s a cult group, he needs to stop them before any more kids get nabbed. If it’s something more than that, maybe he can be better prepared to go after it.”
He slams the folder shut and pushes it at me hard. He starts to shake his head and mumbles something under his breath. I can’t make out what it is, but whatever he knows is not a good thing. I still need it though. Anything would help at this point.
“Come on, Godfrey. I thought we were friends.” I can see right away that those words get to him and he slumps a little.
“You aren’t going to like this, Dillon. I know you well enough. But you can’t pursue this thing. It’s bad enough you’re dating a human. That’s a huge law to break. This will just be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. If I tell you this, it’s going to get you moving down a path that will get you exiled from Earth and maybe imprisoned somewhere far worse than this store.”
I’m more than curious now. I already knew I could be in all kinds of trouble for dating Rouge. The higher ups have a whole set of rules for beings like Godfrey and hunters like myself. We are all here for a reason, a purpose and one thing we are never supposed to do is get involved with or have sex with any human or other creature which originated here. I know the law and am fully aware of the consequences that could include being yanked from the planet and locked in a deep dark hole in the coldest reaches of space. Sure, I know this very well, but I know other things too. The main one being that I am a good hunter, maybe one of the better ones. I hold onto host bodies given to me longer than most, have a great capture rating and after finding and closing a porthole in the middle of Lake Simcoe, I think I’ve earned a few Brownie points with them. The fact that I’m still here tells me this.
So what else could I be threatened by?
“All right, Godfrey, you have me interested. Spill the beans.”
“Come to the back with me,” he says, and I follow him through a curtain of beads to a room more expansive than the store. Incenses burns all over the place and the air is so thick with rich smoke that it’s almost hard to breathe. “Sit down while I find something.”
I look around and see only two chairs. One is huge and ornate; something an old king of England would look right at home in. It’s behind a desk so I assume that one is Godfrey’s. Over across the room is another, small and less impressive chair, which is leaning against a wall painted black. I grab it and pull it over to the desk just as he comes back with a huge book in his hand. I sit down and he drops the book. The weight gives it an impressive sound and dust flies up from it. Godfrey drops himself in his throne and looks about as happy as a man who just found out he’s dying.
He flips through the book and then asks for the picture of the symbol.
“I knew it was the same,” he says, and turns the book to me. “Do you see it?”
I look and there’s no doubt it’s the same. A weird hooked cross surrounded by two circles. The book looks old so I’m guessing the symbol is too. There’s no writing on this page, so I have no idea what the thing means.
“So, that’s the symbol. What does it mean?”
“What does it mean? You don’t know what this is at all, do you? My spirit, Dillon, you need to do more research on this planet, Mon.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be here. So, what is it?”
“It’s the sign of the Golgotha,” he says, as though I know what the hell he’s talking about. I clearly don’t. Name doesn’t even ring the smallest bell, so I shrug. “Didn’t you study any of the old Earth lore before you came here, or after even?”
“I guess I missed this one. I know what a Leprechaun is, an Igopogo, a golem, and a few others, but not this one, so enlighten me.”
“A Golgotha is a demon born from rot and human filth, but not from another realm like anything you’ve dealt with before. This is an earthbound demon, a creature called forth and born here of human waste and decay.”
“You mean an earthbound demon made up of piss, shit and rotting flesh? That’s what stole these kids?”
“Usually they’re just made up of shit, but yes, the others too. The first one was called forth during the death of Christ. At the foot of the crosses of all those crucified on the hill the first was born. A witch, a follower of Christ cursed those who killed her Lord and called forth the unspeakable demon. It rose from the piles of rotted blood, piss and shit, and then killed the Roman soldiers who had tortured the God Prince.”
“So, what you want me to believe, or whoever is writing the symbol really, is that a Golgotha has been called by someone to rise up and steal kids? Sorry for the pun, but that sounds like a load of shit, Godfrey. When was the last time someone did anything like that?”
“There’s no record of anything like that, but the symbol, the slime as you call it, it all points to a Golgotha.”
“How would anyone know how to call one up though? There’s no hills of the crucified anymore. Is there even anyone who’d have the skills to bring one of these demons back?”
“There are all kinds that could, and so many other ways than the way the first one was called. Just leave it alone, Dillon. You know you can’t do anything about this. Go and tell the police you’re sorry, but there’s nothing you can do. Don’t even make mention of the demon to them at all or you may cross a line you can never come back from.”
“I can at least tell him what you think it is that took the kids.”
“What good would it do? If you involve yourself in this, you run the risk of breaking one of the biggest laws set up for you to follow. You must never kill any earthbound creatures, or even have a hand in one dying. It’s the law.”
“I’ve done it before. When I was up north alone I killed things that had turned into zombies after they ate Gloudian flesh.”
“They were
n’t human any longer when you did that, Dillon. They’d changed, became something not of this earth. A Golgotha is not the same thing. Go after it and there will be a price to pay. Even if you assist the police with information you can be violating it and in turn, I will be too for telling you. It may not be just your life and freedom on the line, but mine as well.”
I get what he’s saying, I really do, but there are other things to consider here. I’m not going to only think about myself in this one. There are kids out there that could still be in danger, ones that feel nice and safe now, but could be the next victim for this demon. Or maybe there’s something else, or someone else behind it. Does the demon have to be called forth like the first one, or can they rise up on their own? I ask him that very question.
“They can’t do it on their own. They need someone to call them forth.”
“So what are the chance that there won’t be any more victims, that the person calling the demon forth or the demon itself will just up and go away on their own?” I’m hoping there will be an answer I like, though as soon as the words leave my lips I can see there won’t be.
It figures.
“They’re low. As long as the person who’s conjured the demon keeps doing so, it can just go on and on. Sorry, Dillon.”
Well, that seals it for me. There’s no way I can allow this to go on. I’m not really thinking of hunting down some shit demon and dispatching it, that’s not really ideal. I know there could be some serious repercussions if I were to kill this thing, assuming I could even figure out how to without any tools from Godfrey. Without his help, I wouldn’t even ask for it if I was going to do it, there’s no saying what tools and weapons I would need to get rid of the smelly thing. Assuming it stinks, seeing as what it’s made of.