Blessed by Fire

by P W Hillard

  “Sorry, you’re not my type,” spluttered Aasif. The creature roared and lashed out Rajan. He twisted to the side evading its blades and brought his baton around bouncing off its armoured hide with a loud ringing noise.

  “That’s it, keep the British stiff upper lip. Here.” Mark looped his belt just below Aasif’s elbow pulling the leather tight. “Just need to keep this tight and you’ll be as right as rain.”

  “Ah fuck!” shouted Dale as he narrowly avoided a blow from the creature, its blade drawing a thin cut across his back. “Any ideas?” he cried touching his wound. There was blood on his fingers. A creaking rattle of the metal shutters groaned to life answered him.

  “Hey, fucking ugly!” Screamed Jess. She held one of the smaller crab like creatures in her hands. Its shell had been smashed in “Hey look at this, tasty huh!” She tossed the creature onto the bottom of the ramp and ran backwards, ducking under the still rising shutter.

  The creature cascaded forward, eager to fill its belly with ready food before resuming its attack. Its centipede body poured down the ramp, tiny legs pounding as it moved. Beyond the shutter and engine revved, its sound a competing roar. The creature cried out in response and leant down, shovelling the crab like creature into its move. It bit through its shell with a loud crunch. There was another rev of an engine then the squealing of tires as the rental van rocketed down the ramp. It launched itself slightly as it sped into the concrete divot, its tires spinning in the air as it struck the creature.

  The collision was an explosion of flesh and metal. The front of the van struck the creature pressing it down onto the concrete floor. The pressure shattered its shell, spraying thick red gore outwards like a popping water balloon. The van carried onwards its front end striking the ground, the old metal frame proving no resistance to the ground. The front crunched and buckled, fragments of metal spraying outwards, striking the walls and the twitching form of the dead beast. The van tipped forward its roof rolling off the read of the creature’s thin body, coming to a rest on its side. The front half of the creature lay slumped, twitching slightly as its life drained away.

  The driver’s side door of the van popped open, pointing defiantly upwards to the sky. Jess lifted herself through and sat on the door frame, her legs dangling over the front window.

  “Fucking good thing I stayed in the van,” she said and let out a long cough. “Fuck thank Christ this old clunker had fucking airbags.” She lowered herself down, sliding down the windscreen. She stumbled, uneasy on her feet. Carefully she staggered up the ramp into the bakery proper. “Fuck Aasif!”

  “He’ll be ok if we can get him to a hospital,” said Mark still gripping the makeshift tourniquet tightly. “We need to do something about this fucking, I guess hole?”

  “It’s a rip,” said Rajan. “Remember what Lucille said? Jinn creep in when the gaps between realities are thin. Whatever they were doing has turned that thinness into a gaping hole.”

  “So how do we fix it?” asked Jess.

  “Not a fucking clue,” admitted Rajan.

  “We ask an expert,” replied Dale. “Sorry buddy,” he said crouching next to Aasif, “going to need to borrow some of this.” He dipped his fingers into the pool of blood below his arm.

  Lucille hummed to herself as she swept. It always seemed like either Abbie or herself was sweeping. True hell it seemed was the floor of a bar after a busy night. As it was currently only early evening Lucille was trying to get a jump on it, try a little preventative sweeping. It was proving difficult, a particularly drunk hen party who had described the bar as “Like such a dive” had spent most of their time complaining loudly, spilling more than they drank. She felt a tingling in her ear and reached in to scratch it. The itch got worse as it always did.

  “Fucking teenagers,” she muttered to herself.

  “Oh, great and powerful Satan! Master of lies! Lord of shadows!” said the voice in her head. It sounded familiar. “I beseech you with my prayer.” She did recognise her voice. For the first time in a very long time, Lucille replied.

  “Dale?” she asked bemused. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”

  “I wasn’t really sure how to do this, I’m kind of just winging it.” His voice was oddly faint, as thought something was interfering.

  “What’s going on? Did my spell work?” Lucille opened the door to her flat and started up the stairs.

  “So yes, it worked, but we have another problem. There’s some kind of…hole? Weird shit came pouring through. Rajan reckons it’s a tear, that thinness between realities you mentioned.”

  “What kind of weird shit, like crazy messed up monsters, all kinds of weird limbs and stuff?” she asked, taking a seat on her sofa.

  “Yeah exactly.”

  “He’s spot on. Sounds like your Jinn opened the doorway a little too far and this reality and another are bumping metaphorical uglies.”

  “So how do we fix it?” Dale asked, the octave of his voice shifting, the tear meddling with the prayer.

  “You don’t. The universe is a tough old broad, it will heal itself over time. As long as you stop whatever opened it in the first place, so it doesn’t do it again. The more tears the longer it will take to heal. One is a few hours, two a few days, you get the gist.” She shrugged, even though she knew Dale couldn’t see her.

  Dale sat cross legged on the floor of the bakery, in front of him was a pentagram drawn in Aasif’s blood. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to be as cliché as possible, hoping the intent would be enough. Dale was pleased to see he was right.

  “Lucille says it will close on its own, in a few hours,” he said. He wiped his hands on his coat, smearing it with blood.

  “A few hours is a long ass time if shit like that,” Mark gestured to the mangled heap of van and creature, “comes through.”

  “It’s fine,” said Rajan. “Me and Dale will stay here, watch the rift whilst we wait for the medics to arrive for Aasif, you two track down that last Jinn. She must be nearby. No offense Jess but you’re a bit battered, better you go face what we know is out there, let us deal with whatever the hell comes through there next.”

  “None taken, that’s a fair point,” Jess crouched down, lifted something from the floor. “Slight issue,” she said turning around. A tattered red dress rested in her hands. She reached into the pocket and produced her phone. “Now how do we find her?”

  “You don’t,” came a reply, it was Claire’s voice, but quietly behind its dozens of voices, in faint harmony.

  The fire in the oven shifted and moved as Claire floated forth. Her skin was perfect, the wounds from her ordeal gone. The flames cloaked her like and aura, flicking around her. Her hair lashed about with the flames, caught in their updraft. She stretched her arms outward, a fresh vivid red dress weaving itself around her as she moved. The rift shuddered violently as she approached, the faint ripple becoming a booming wave. She smiled, and held up her arms, marvelling at her new form.

  Chapter 23

  Claire floated in place, her light illuminating the chamber with a pale orange glow. They could feel the heat emanating from her. She inched forward slowly, a fiery angel of destruction, tongues of fire erupting from her form, scouring the ground around her. Slowly they edged backwards from her, Mark dragging Aasif as he lapsed in an out of consciousness. The rift shuddered and raged, the room seeming to stretch and bend at Claire’s very presence.

  “I will burn you all slowly and revel in your ashes! I will burn the ground on which you have walked, the places you have been and the people you have loved!” She screamed, her voice a chorus. “I will consume everything and everyone you know. And why? Because I can.” Claire’s flames shifted from their orange to an incandescent blue. The heat filled the room, it was oppressive.

  “Not bloody likely!” shouted Jess. She stood before the inferno, sweat dripping from her brow, bruised, battered, but defiant.

  “You most of all. You who have hounded me at every turn. I will so enjoy
killing you woman. Then I will kill your friends, whoever taught you these magics, and then finally I will kill any family you have, and I will savour all of it. The power of a hundred Jinn fills this vessel, and you dare to stand before me!” Claire’s face was a sneer, half hidden in the flames.

  “A hundred Jinn you say?” replied Jess. She laughed gently to herself and slid her hands inside her jacket pocket.

  “Something funny mortal? You mock the brothers and sisters who gave themselves to me. You besmirch their sacrifice.”

  “Well it’s just a thought. You have the power of all those Jinn your strength amplified. The opposite must be true as well?” Quickly and in one movement Jess thrust her right hand from her pocket, the handful of iron filings scattered from her palm. They struck Claire who screamed in agony, green sparks bursting forth as each mote of iron struck her. She dropped onto the floor, her feet stumbling backwards. Jess threw another handful again, erupting in another display of green fireworks. Her fellow detectives caught on dashing forward to add their own handfuls to the barrage. Claire screamed as she was beaten backwards, her flames dying with every step. Finally, she let out an unholy howl and burst into an uproarious blaze, the force knocking the detectives backwards. Jess crashed to the ground and rolled awkwardly, whilst the men, less hurt than her, struggled to keep their footing. The flames became a twisting spiral, a tornado of heat and light. It curved upwards smashing through a bakery window. The vortex pulled itself through and vanished into the night air. Embers of fire remained, scattered across the floor like confetti.

  “Good thinking,” applauded Mark, helping Jess to her feet. “Problem is now we need to find her again.”

  “We also need to deal with this rift I guess?” Dale pointed over his shoulder at the bend in reality. Looking directly at it made Jess’ eyes throb. It had calmed itself, settling down to how it was before Claire had emerged.

  “Yeah also those,” Jess added, pointing at the rising forms behind Dale.

  The motes of flame pulsed with a growing light. They coalesced into small fires that reached out, stretching and shaping itself into a new form. They grew into pillars at first, before splitting, taking humanoid forms, arms and legs erupting outwards. The figures were made of pure combustion, but controlled and shaped. For a brief scant moment, a bestial visage could be seen, before flicking away in a wash of flames. The figures flexed, a grotesque mockery of human behaviours.

  Mark crouched down beside Aasif, the tourniquet had come loose so he pulled it tight. He was paler, drifting in and out of consciousness. Mark grabbed him under the shoulders and began dragging him towards the door, away from the advancing figures.

  “What the fuck is this now?” Marks words were strained as he pulled his unconscious colleague.

  “Jinn,” replied Rajan. “I think this is what they look like naturally, it’s like the pictures I saw during research, but with more actual fire.” The Jinn advanced, twelve in all, a wall of coming flames. The front two burst into a run, rushing at the detectives. Jess ducked below a lashing burning claw, rolling across the ground to avoid the strike. Dale leant backwards, the Jinn’s thrust tearing his shirt. It smoked where the flame had raked it. Rajan swivelled on one foot circling his attacker. He lashed out instinctively in retaliation, striking the Jinn with an overhand swing of his baton. The dark metal carved through the Jinn’s fiery form easily, the lack of resistance causing Rajan to stumble. He caught his footing and righted himself to see the Jinn he had stuck evaporate into tiny specks of fire. They rose slightly in the air before falling gently, like burning snow. “Iron!” he shouted. “That’s why they need hosts! It banishes them completely in their natural form!”

  He needn’t have shouted, his colleagues seeing the results of his strike emulated him. Jess jabbed her baton at her attacker like a dagger, plunging it deep into its chest. It exploded into its own flaming dust. The Jinn that had struck Dale lunged at him again and he raised his baton, a hand at both ends to block the strike. The Jinn’s outstretched hand disintegrated as it struck, causing it to fall forwards, the hot shards pelting Dale. His jacket smouldered slightly, and he patted it down. The remaining Jinn, seeing how easily the first three had been dispatched rushed together, counting on their numbers to overwhelm their prey.

  “Duck!” Mark shouted, throwing the last of his iron filings over the now crouching body of Jess. It struck the mass of flame, the four lead Jinn exploding, whilst the others stumbled. Stunned momentarily the detectives swung wildly, Jinn bursting apart around them. Then none remained. They stood, batons in hand, breathing heavily within a blizzard of fire and ash.

  “Ok? Are we good now?” Dale said, flicking burning dust from his face.

  The bakery burned, smoke and fire rising into the night. Mark sat on his trunk watching as Aasif was loaded into the back of the ambulance. His tanned face had turned white, the paramedics attaching a more permanent tourniquet. He turned away, his gaze drifting to the burning building. It was ironic that even after triumphing over creatures of literal primal flame that the detectives had burnt it themselves. It had seemed the easiest way to cover evidence of the nightmare creature within whilst also keeping people out whilst the rift sealed.

  “I know that face,” Jess said as she sat down beside him.

  “What face?” he asked, still staring at the fire.

  “That’s your thinking face, the one you get when your mulling over an idea.” Jess pulled a notebook from her pocket, flipped it open to a blank page and held her pencil ready. It had snapped at some point in the night, and she held the front half poised to write. “Come on then, do tell.”

  “I was just thinking, we’re just back where we started. All the other Jinn are gone but Claire is loose again. She’ll summon more. Hell, she might even open more of those rifts, letting god knows what come through. Think what was in the care home came through something like this?” The fire danced in his eyes as he watched the bakery burn. It was oddly beautiful.

  “No, it was more like it was being made there, all those hands.” Jess shook herself, trying to lose the image from her mind. “I get what you mean though, same kind of feeling too it. I think Jinn just being around weaken space around them, allowing for weird magic and rifts and stuff.”

  “It’s a chicken and the egg thing, right? Did the Claire-Jinn get through because reality around here was thin? Or was the Jinn being here doing that? I think that’s maybe why that ghost went from being a harmless thing to an onryo, it got riled up, empowered.”

  “Well the ghost appeared before we think the Claire-Jinn was around right? So, the chicken came first? Or whatever reality being weak first is in this metaphor,” said Jess. She wrote “jinn”, followed by a question mark in the centre of the notepads page and surrounded it with a cloud shape. She drew a line from the cloud and atop the line wrote “what came first?”

  “It doesn’t sit right. Raj reckons Lucille says some places are just naturally like this, but Pontypridd isn’t exactly a supernatural hotspot. Something or someone did this.”

  “Another problem for another time.” Jess rested the notepad on her knee and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s sort out this mess first.”

  “I have an idea about that,” Mark admitted.

  “I told you so.” Jess smiled and picked up her notebook and pencil again. “Let’s hear it.”

  “I hope this doesn’t become a recurring thing,” wished Lucille. She was sat on the toilet, her jeans around her ankles. He liked her thumb and leant forward, rubbing against graffiti on the cubicle door.

  “Last time, scouts honour!” said Dale.

  “Well, what do you need then? I’m kinda…busy at the moment.” The graffiti wouldn’t budge, scrawled in permanent marker. Lucille frowned at it.

  “Is there another way to cast a beacon spell? It doesn’t have to be as strong as before, enough for just one Jinn.” Dales voice was clearer than before, less distorted by interference.

  “Not really no,”
Lucille thought for a moment. “Do you have the stuff left from the first one? The ashes?”

  “Yeah, we scooped it into evidence bags before we left.”

  “Ok good, there might be enough juice left for a second attempt. If you only need so summon one it should be ok. I think. Never done it myself.” She leant back against the toilet, the cistern rattling behind her.

  “You mean you gave us a spell you didn’t know would work?” barked Dale.

  “I knew it would work, just never had cause to do it myself. There’s a subtle difference.” Lucille pouted, annoyed at the insinuation of carelessness.

  “The devil is in the details huh?”

  “Something like that.” Lucille smiled at the joke. “Ok, draw all the same runes as before. Set something, anything really that’s on fire in the pile of ashes. Bit of paper, wood, doesn’t matter. That should be enough to have one last shot. It won’t be strong and won’t last more than a minute or two mind you.”

  “Thanks Luce, I’ll tell the guys. That was a big help,” Dale said, his words drifting into her mind.

  “Oh well, you’re welcome.” Lucille could feel her cheeks blushing. She grinned like a schoolgirl. Luce. It felt very informal. “Oh, and I was kidding before, you’re welcome to call me anytime!” There was no reply, D.C Cooper was already gone. “Shit,” said Lucille.

  “Ok seems pretty straightforward then,” Mark said, motioning for Jess to stand up off the trunk. He opened the lid and reached in, producing a clear plastic bag filled with ash.

  “She said it wouldn’t last long,” Dale said, continuing his information rely from Lucille. Behind him the bakery’s fire still burnt but the fine mist like rain had returned, adding itself to the hoses from the fire engines that had pulled into the forecourt. Mark slipped the bag into the pocket of his grey woollen coat, it bulged out, too large to be easily stuffed in.

  “That’s fine, she flew out of here like the fucking human torch, I’m guessing she’ll be there sharpish. Speaking of sharpish, we should. No, they spotted us.” Mark closed his eyes for a moment, and then reopened them, his face now all friendliness and smiles. Across the courtyard Chief Inspector White had seen then and was power walking over his face twisted with rage.