by Shaun Meeks
“I just don’t know. I know a lot about certain things as far as demons and evil goes, where it relates to my churches dogma, but none of this makes any sense really. I just don’t know.”
I look over at the detective and on Garcia’s face I see nothing but the words bullshit, and know I have a long way to go to convince him that what I’m saying is true. I don’t even know I can, but I have to try at this point. People who’ve never been around this sort of thing, who’ve never experienced the world hidden under the regular world are really hard to make see the truth.
“So, you and your buddy think this demon that’s made up of shit and piss—pardon my language, father—which dates back to the time of Christ, is here now, in the city, called forth by some unknown person to steal kids for an unknown reason. Does your friend live at the Queen Street Mental Hospital? Or are they an outpatient somewhere else?”
“I know it’s hard to swallow—”
“You think?” He laughs and cuts me off, but there is no real humour in that sound. “Maybe if what you said made any kind of sense, I could buy it, but this is just stupid.”
“Well, I don’t know how I can convince you. All I can say is this is what I found out and you can work with it or ignore it, but it’s the truth.” It’s like trying to talk to a wall, with this guy. How do you explain to a non-believer that the truth is really out here? Why couldn’t this guy be a fan of the X-Files and Whitley Strieber?
“How do I know it’s not a stunt by someone who wants us to think he’s called up this demon? Some nutcase who’s read one too many books from the occult section of the library and now suddenly they’re fucking with us to throw us off the case? It sounds like bullshit.”
“It could be, sure, but I doubt it. Not with how the kids were taken. This is something else, something inhuman.” I want to grab him and hit him in the head until he gets it, but clearly his skull is so thick that it probably wouldn’t work either. “The way the symbol is written, the slime found on the scene, and the fact that nobody has seen a thing, it’s too much for it just to be some crazy person who is using the idea of an ancient demon to throw you off.”
“I beg to differ,” Garcia says, and tucks his book away. “I’ve been a cop for a long time, seen a lot of messed up stuff, things that don’t seem to add up. We hunt for answers, but in the end it always turns out to have a human face and a human answer. No matter what you tell me, I know that monsters don’t exist. Nor do real demons. The stuff in the bible is to teach us lessons, and this taught me one too. You’re a nut, Dillon. Regular men and women are the root of the evil in this world.”
Garcia stands up and makes to walk out, but Father Ted grabs his arm.
“Wait a second, Jonathan. What if there was a way to prove it? What if I could show you monsters are real?”
What is he going on about? How on earth is he going to do that? Unless he has video of one of the things that have appeared in the church over the years, this is going to be a hard thing to prove.
“There’s nothing you can say to do it. Sorry, Father. I know you’re a priest and all, but there are things I need to see with my own eyes. And since there are no monsters here, no demons hiding in the corner, I guess I’ll never know. I’m going to go home now and spend time with my son.”
Father Ted looks at me and I see something there. I know what it is too, even before it leaves his mouth and my jaw nearly drops. I’m not sure what the man was thinking, what went through his head, but I almost feel as though he might’ve crossed a line; at least as far as I’m concerned.
“Come with me, both of you.”
We follow him and I’m looking forward to seeing what it is. I’m sure I know, but I want to see the exact nature of it.
We head into a part of the rectory I’ve never been in before and soon we come to a door where the priest stops. He takes a deep breath and I see his shoulders slump a little and again I wonder just what it is he’s about to show us. He touches the knob, then pulls his hand away and turns to us. His eyes meet mine.
“I want to apologize ahead of time for this, Dillon. I know you might not understand it, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”
I go to say something, but stop. I don’t really know what to say until I see whatever is behind door number one. Father Ted gives another apology before he turns back to the door. This time he opens it with little hesitation. The priest steps out of the way and I move in first, not wanting to let the detective see what’s in the room before me. I suddenly wish I had my tools with me.
As I step in, the first thing I notice is a strong smell of Jasmine. It’s pleasant and I begin to try to put the smell to any name of any monster I’ve ever dealt with, but none come to mind. The room is cool and dark and as I reach for the light, Father Ted calls out for me not to.
“I don’t want to frighten my guest.”
His guest. That sneaky little priest. Now I know for sure what he’s done. I never really thought he’d do anything like this. I’d like to say he’s been lying to me, but since I didn’t ever think to ask if he had something living with him that wasn’t of this world, there’s no real deceit here, other than the fact that he kept it from me. Then again, I don’t tell him about everything in my life. We’re all allowed to have our secrets.
“Okay, Ted,” I say, and leave the light alone. “So, where is you guest. I can’t wait to see it.”
“What’s this going to prove?” Garcia asks, as Father Ted comes further into the room and makes a strange sound with his mouth. It’s like a cross between a whistle and how you’d call a small animal like a squirrel.
“Oh, I think you’re about to see what this’ll prove,” I whisper to the detective, and wait patiently for it. Luckily, we’re rewarded rather quickly. The Father has done a good job of making the tourist feel nice and safe in this world.
From the far corner that’s hidden in the shadows of a dresser, a small shape steps out from the pool of darkness. It’s no bigger than a toy poodle and walks on hind legs, though it’s slightly hunched over. The body of the creature is small and thin, lumps here and there. As it moves further into the light I can see that whatever it is, it’s made a form for itself out of what looks like discarded tea bags. My guess would be Jasmine green tea, Ted’s favourite. It moves closer to us, making a cooing sound like a dove or pigeon and as it looks up at me I know right away what it is.
“So you found yourself a Quilly?” I say, and can’t help but smile at the sight of the tiny thing. A Quilly is one of the most laid back, least violent, and complacent of all the creatures in the expansive universes. They live on a small, peaceful planet and have never really been involved in any wars that I can recall. I do know that some species will visit their planet and steal their kind to use as pets. Others tend to keep them as slaves to do tiny jobs such as cleaning sewer systems, or entering the rectums of giant beasts to steal organs. There are also some—mostly demons—that think the small creatures are a delicacy and steal them by the crate so they can eat them raw later on. It’s easy to feel bad for their kind and I’m curious as to how it found its way here. “What’s your name, Quilly?”
“Peel,” he says in a soft voice, and beside me Garcia finally lets out a quick gasp.
“What in God’s name? That thing talks?” The detective’s voice is shaky and it’s to be expected. It’s not every day that your world is flipped upside down.
“It’s not a thing,” I tell him. “That there’s a Quilly named Peel. His body is in the world he came from. Creatures may be able to cross over, but for the most part, they have to leave their true bodies behind. Only their essence can make its way over to this world. So he’s made one here out of old tea bags. At least he smells better than a lot of the things I have to deal with.”
“There’s no way…No…I mean…this…it’s a trick…a joke…You two are having me on, right?”
&n
bsp; “No,” says Father Ted, and puts a hand on the detective’s shoulder. “It’s not a trick at all. I found him in the basement. There’s a…weak spot down there, something like a crossroads where other creatures can cross over to our world. These are the things Dillon hunts down. I normally call him when one shows up, but not with Peel here. Nothing so innocent should be forced to meet with Dillon when he’s doing his job. Sorry, Dillon.”
“Oh, I get it,” I tell him. I understand completely. There have been times where I’ve let a creature or two stay on this planet, despite how much trouble I could get in. Rules sometimes have to be overlooked.
“So, that’s a monster?” Garcia asks, and I have to stifle a laugh.
“No, not even close. Peel here is a Quilly. He’s no more a monster than you are. Sure, he doesn’t look human, so to you I guess he would be a monster. But where he’s from, you’d be the same. In fact, you look way more threatening than any Quilly ever has.”
“This…it just makes no sense…none at all.”
“Why should it?” I ask, and there isn’t any joy in those words. I can image how he feels, how so many people who call me feel. Where I grew up, we knew about so many other worlds other than our own. Our planet was only one of many in our solar system that was inhabited. The people of Earth, on the other hand, are still in the dark, blind to the secrets around them, some of them so close. They have no idea of the life that lives in the stars above them, even that on their own moon. When I work for people and tell them I removed a monster or demon from their home or place of business, they usually convince themselves it was a fluke, just one of those things. They called me, seeing something out of the ordinary, a sight they couldn’t explain and when I tell them it was a being not of this world, they laugh it off as though it’s just a big mistake. At the end of the day, it’s easier to live in denial than to accept the truth. “This universe isn’t really built on sense or sanity, detective. It’s a mishmash of mistakes, flaws and the unbelievable. But what you’re looking at—this little Quilly—he’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
He’s floored. I can see it, as I’ve seen it a million times before. Only the few handle this better. I watch him and see him sort of sway where he’s standing. His eyes are still on Peel, but they’re not focused. He looks like he might even faint at any moment, and that wouldn’t be a first either.
“So, then, you actually hunt down these…monsters?” he stammers, as I see his hands start to shake.
“Well, the things I normally get called for have a little more girth to them, but yeah, this is the gist of it. Creatures like Peel, and much freakier, scarier monsters are my specialty. Anything that’s not supposed to be on this planet is what I deal with. I guess you misjudged me after all.” I snicker a bit as I say this. I can’t help it really. He’d been so smug, thinking I was just a fraud and a joke; well, he doesn’t seem that way now. Not as pale and freaked out as he looks at the moment.
“So, are you going to send it back too, like the others?” This time it’s Father Ted asking the question and I study him. His face is a mix of fear and regret, as easy to read as a Dick and Jane book and I’m a little torn. This is my job. I’m here to find all these creatures, good and bad, and send them back to where they should be. There are laws and as small and harmless as Peel seems, he’s not supposed to be here. “Please, Dillon. Just this one time, look away. He means no harm and he’s become somewhat of a companion for me.”
“How long’s he been here?” I ask, and try not to bring my feelings into this. Father Ted is a friend, someone I actually take the time to see and I don’t want anything to come between that. Even my job. He’s a good man, and I would do almost anything for him, but would I break the rules for him? That’s a hard one. I’d break them for my own selfish reasons, like I do with Rouge, but this isn’t about me. It’s about the priest and the Quilly.
“Nearly six months,” he says quietly, and my mouth nearly drops.
“Six months? You old bastard! How did you keep him a secret for so long? Do your nuns know about him?”
He nods and I’m even more flabbergasted.
“So all this time, every single day I saw you over that time you’ve been keeping this from me? Even when you called me to rid the place of others that crossed over, you had Peel hiding out in your room?”
Again he nods and I laugh out loud.
“Are you going to…” he trails off and I shake my head.
“Listen, Father, there are rules and then there’s this. The fact that you broke your own vows to keep the little guy here means something. I guess he’s harmless and if that ever changes, which I’m sure it won’t, you’ll call me, right?”
“Of course I will.”
“That’s settled then,” I tell him and I mean it. I won’t send the little guy packing just yet. I doubt I ever will, but I will have no qualms if things change. None at all. After that, I turn back to Detective Garcia. “So, you still think what I said is a load of hogwash? Or are you ready to listen to reason?”
He shakes his head, his shoulders slumped and he looks utterly defeated. “If that’s real, I guess I’ll listen. I don’t know how I’ll get anyone else to, but I’ll hear you out. My God, this is so wrong.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
After that, I explain to Garcia what he’s going to be up against. I tell him what I know about the Golgotha. Father Ted also adds a few things, what he knows, but that’s not very much more than I do. Garcia’s first question is what we can do to stop it and I have to admit I have no idea. This is an earthbound demon, an entity of this world. Everything I would normally do is either forbidden or won’t work at all. I have tools and spells, curses and talismans galore at home, but those are for specific beings, creatures not of this plane. In other words, they’ll be useless in a fight with the Golgotha.
I tell him the real trick and sure way to beat this thing is to find whoever summoned it and, well, there’s no easy way about it. He’d have to kill whoever called it forth. Just throwing them in jail won’t stop the Golgotha, it’ll just come and get him from wherever they held him. Or her. It could be a woman, I remind him. It wouldn’t be the first time some monster like this, or a golem was called by a woman. Men don’t hold the patent on being messed up.
“So why? Why would anyone call this thing up to snatch up kids in the first place? There’s got to be a reason for it,” he says, and I hear the frustration return.
“If there was a reason for anything people do, I’m sure I could tell you. To be honest, every time I have to deal with someone or something that has a crazy idea in their head to become more powerful, richer or anything else, it makes about as much sense as this does. Better not to try and understand the workings of the mad, detective. How many times does some monster have to decide to try and destroy the world before they realize there’s not point to any of it? Who wants to rule a pile of waste? The problem with trying to make sense is that these people, monsters and demons have something not right in the head. To them, their ludicrous ideas make total sense, but to people with sense, they come off as insane.”
I wish I had more to offer, to tell him something that could lead him to the source, but this is as much as I have or can offer. I think I’m safe with the information given, that I haven’t really crossed any lines as far as the higher ups would go. I’m about to wish him good luck when his phone rings.
“Hello…wait…where?...okay, no, I understand. I’m on my way.” He hangs up and is moving towards the door. “Are you coming?” he asks me, shooting me a glance over his shoulder and I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Coming where?”
“Another kid was just taken. And it’s only a few blocks from here, in broad daylight.”
I don’t say anything at first. I don’t want to say yes or no, for different reasons. In a way, this is what I live for, investigating and h
unting. Normally I’m called to a case and it’s as easy as tying a shoe, but it’s the challenge I love. This case has just that and there’s a fresh scent Garcia’s running to. How can I pass that up?
Easily. If I go and there’s a way to track the damn thing, then I run the risk of getting way too involved with it all and that could easily lead to a bigger problem than a Golgotha. If it looks like I’m interfering with an earthbound being, especially if I kill it somehow, I’ll be pulled in and up on charges. If I ever thought Godfrey had it bad living life in a store and selling goods to hunters, I can only imagine what they’d have in store for me. No doubt I’d be somewhere desolate and disgusting. Worse still, there’s no way I’d ever get to see Rouge again and that’s nearly enough for me to say no alone.
“Sorry, detective. I actually can’t get any more involved in this. If I do, I’d have to pay a heavy price,” I offer, and hope that’s enough of an explanation for him.
He stops, turns to me and I see the rage in his eyes even before he starts to yell at me. Clearly it’s not enough. “What do you mean you can’t get involved? You tell me this is a monster I’m up against and you’re a monster hunter. This is your specialty and you’re just going to walk away? Really? So I’m supposed to face some shit and piss demon by myself while you go off and play house with your stripper girlfriend? I can tell you don’t have any kids. If you did, there’s no way you’d pass the buck to me, asshole.”
Well that’s a good way to convince me to come.
I hold back the urge to punch him for the stripper comment. I understand his anger, know where it’s coming from, so I bite my tongue and just say sorry. I could explain it all to him, but since it would involve me telling him and Father Ted I’m not even human, I decide against it. That’s not going to help anyone here. I don’t think there’s anything I could say at this point that would make it easier for him to understand or accept.