arjaandsimoni

[arjaandsimoni]

Sausages

Once Upon a Time…

In the mid-1800s, Cincinnati was the city for pork. The city was famous for it, even so far as to be nicknamed ‘Porkopolis.’

It was a prime location for it in those days. The Ohio River made transportation easy, and there was farmland all around the city perfect for raising livestock, and the city made its fortune off porkchops, bacon, sausages, and pig fats and oils for candles and soaps among other things. It was a rare day in Cincinnati to not see a herd of pigs being guided through the streets towards one of the many warehouses to be processed before being loaded onto barges and sent along the Ohio to Pittsburg, Paducah, Boston, and all over the map.

But, of course, herding dozens of squealing, confused, and nearly panicked pigs through a city street was difficult at the best of times… and sometimes they had to deal with escapees.

It was one such pig who made a break for it on a hot summer’s day in 1854, fleeing from the herd down a side street as the workers raised the alarm, two young men going after it. The pig fled in a blind panic, going down one side street, then another, then down one alleyway, then another, then another, and another alleyway, and two more after that, and again and again… until the sounds of the city grew distant.

The pig eventually slowed, exhausted from its flight, and were it a thinking creature it might have noticed that the alleyway looked wrong now. The buildings towered above it, and strange thorny roots grew up from the cracks in the cobblestones. There were odd posters on the walls in archaic languages or showing bizarre otherworldly beings… but being a simple pig, it did not realize anything was amiss.

Thus, the pig eventually trotted off in search of food… deep into the winding depths and madness of the Hedge. One might wonder how a simple animal could have chanced their way into such a realm, but the Wyrd and Fate are fickle and unknowable things.

However, the little pig never left… and over the years and decades of eating goblin fruit and living among the briars, it stopped being little. It grew strong and became… if not intelligent then at least very cunning. Some part of its piggy little mind remembered where it came from, and the likely fate of the other pigs… and its piggy little mind rebelled against that.

… and the Wyrd, in its whimsy, decided to help the little pig.

Now, the little pig is no longer little at all, and could barely be called a pig. It lived among the Hedge’s reflection of the city, making its home near the riverfront that had seen the remains of so many of its kin off to their final destination as someone’s dinner, light source, or bathing tools… and if anyone comes into its territory, well… they won’t be going home, but they will certainly be crying.

Maybe not crying ‘wee wee wee,’ but crying all the same.

The Hedge, Present Day

Nelen stumbled out of the ruined van, clutching at his head and hissing through his teeth. “Uhnnn…” he gasped for breath, leaning against the doorframe as his vision swam into focus, then he looked around and shook his head firmly. “Guys! Sound off, anyone hurt?” he called out.

The backdoor of the van burst open, kicked firmly from inside by a pair of simian legs, as Arja scrambled out in her vanara form and pulled Simoni and Natasha free of the wreckage. “Just bruises Nelen…” she nodded.

Simoni flopped down onto the pathway, looking around with a shudder. She’d never seen this place before, but she knew what it was. Anyone who was part of Clan Fullmoon grew up knowing tales of the Hedge and its dangers. The various goblins and hobgoblins who made their homes in the strange mirror-realm to Earth, the various goblin fruits which could be helpful or could be dangerous or even deadly, the ever-present threat of the briars themselves which could sap the very will and soul from an unwary traveler, and of course the chance of running afoul of one of the Fae themselves.

Natasha looked around, the vampire’s eyes narrowing as Dawn appeared ontop of the wrecked vehicle, the cheshire’s tail fluffed out. “Hm… here again…” murmured the vampire.

“Quite.” came a reply as Prince Samuel strode into view, his hand resting openly on his sword. Simoni’s eyebrows went up at the sight of him, and even Arja found herself having trouble looking away.

In the mortal realm a changeling’s true appearance was hidden by a sort of ‘mask,’ an illusion to make them appear, if not normal, then passably mortal. The Hedge, however, stripped all such things away.

Sammi stood there, his eyes a shining blue like the sky on a clear day in deepest winter, his hair glistening like spun gold and waving as if caught in an unseen breeze. There was a strange chill about him as well. His steps trailed snowy footprints, and a dusting of snow gathered on his shoulders… though it was not currently snowing where they were.

“Sorry about that everyone…” came an apologetic voice as Stephy flapped down from above, landing next to his adoptive sibling as he transformed back into his more humanoid form. Like Sammi, his features were more pronounced, more… elfin than they normally would be, and he too carried a trail of snow around him though, if anything, his was even more obvious than his brother’s. “But Sammi and I saw police cruisers closing in and, well… yeah…” he sighed, “There were at least eight of them that we saw. Probably more on the way.”

Nelen swore, then nodded to them. “I get it…” he replied, fishing a bottle of aspirin out of his bag and downing two of them in one gulp, then stuffing it away. He’d smacked his head on the steering wheel when the van crashed and it was only his inborn Fullmoon resilience that meant he had a nasty bump as opposed to a concussion or worse. “But still, we need to find a safe exit point as quick as we can. Preferably somewhere far enough into the city to call the Wulfshead door or at least on the Kentucky side so we can get back to Covington.”

Sammi hesitated, “Er… it may be more difficult than that Nelen. Were it not for the direness of our situation, I would have preferred to fight off the mortal authorities personally…”

The group looked at the two changelings, even Dawn raising her eyebrow at that, then Nelen frowned. “Okay… you’d have rather fought mundy cops than risk travel in the Hedge. Why?” he asked pointedly.

Stephy whined, rubbing at his arm, “Because there’s something really nasty that lives in the Hedge along the riverfront… and we’ll have to go through it’s territory to get close to where Cincinnati is.” he nodded.

Simoni stood up next to Arja as the vanara girl went close to her, her eyes darting towards the briars. Even Natasha seemed concerned, this was clearly a realm where she was no longer a predator.

“… and that something is?” asked Nelen.

Sammi shrugged, “Well, therein lies the rub Nelen…” he murmured.

Stephy nodded, “Yeah, we don’t… actually know. We just know that any changelings who try to travel along the riverfront through the Hedge… well… more often than not they don’t come back.”

Nelen frowned, then sighed, “Well, can we go back out the way we came? Hide out in the van until sunrise and hitchhike or call an uber or something?” he asked.

Sammi shook his head. “Afraid not, it doesn’t work that way. There are established gates to the Hedge, but what my sibling and I did was akin to prying open a window, which slammed shut and locked behind us.” he nodded, gesturing to the path behind them. There were a clear set of erratic tire marks leading back from the van right up to where they suddenly stopped in the middle of the path. “Easy enough to get in from the mortal realm’s side, but to leave… well…” he sighed, “Thats always the tricky part.”

Nelen sighed at that, then nodded. “Alright, well, if nothing else Cernunnos was a fae lord way back in prehistory… maybe he can just, I dunno, outrank whatever lives here.” he shrugged, then shuddered a bit before adding, “… he says, ‘don’t count on it.’” in an annoyed grumble.

The group looked around, seeing only a single path stretching out before them through the briars… but Sammi pointed up above the trees. In the distance they could make out what, at first blush, looked like the skyline of the city… though upon closer inspection parts of it looked wrong. The buildings didn’t stand straight, and the lights in their windows made out odd patterns. “That’s the Hedge’s version of Cincinnati… as long as we can see that we can at least have a touchstone to where we’re going, but by the Wyrd be careful. Do not stray from the path, whatever you do or see, and try to stay as quiet as you can. Not everything here is dangerous… but it can be very hard to tell what is and is not.” he warned, turning on his heel and setting off down the path. “Now come on. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

The group filed along behind him, though Nelen kept a hand on his messenger bag as they went and Arja opted to remain in her vanara form. Simoni considered taking to the air, but a glance upwards dissuaded that pretty quickly. The trees here had long skeletal limbs seeming to end in wicked spikes with thorns wrapped around them, and she could just imagine them reaching out and grabbing a passing bird like a tomcat eager for a meal. Even then, it was winter in the Hedge as well, and the cold was already beginning to affect her badly.

Finally the garuda spoke up, “You guys really don’t have any idea what’s such a big threat around here? Anything at all?” she asked.

The prince shook his head, “Only rumor and hearsay…” replied Sammi, “A few odd things from those lucky few who made it through unmolested, each time because they didn’t encounter whatever haunts this stretch of the Hedge.”

Simoni glanced into the briars, and for a moment she thought she saw something running past in the gloom, darting between the trees… but a moment later it was clear it was just the wind knocking some snow loose from above. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise, her teeth chattering from far more than the winter’s chill.

“… things like the sound of metal grinding, or a faint snorting and snuffling sound in the distance, or a large shape among the thorns that they were fortunate enough to go unnoticed by.” he clarified.

The group glanced around, Natasha feeling uncomfortably like she was being watched. A vampire would still be a powerful foe in the Hedge for most threats, but she couldn’t be certain of defeating something on its home turf… and if one of the Gentry showed up, all bets were off. They could only flee and hope.

They trekked on for what felt like hours, the van eventually vanishing behind them to be left to whatever fate the briars held. Maybe it would be broken down for spare parts by industrious goblins, maybe it would become some sort of strange hedge-creature itself over time, or maybe it would simply be left to rust.

Eventually, Nelen pointed ahead of them. To their left was the twisted Hedge-version of Cincinnati’s buildings, but now to their right was a massive stretch of liquid that could only be this reality’s version of the Ohio River, with a huge bridge spanning it lit by strangely flickering lights. “There. We’re almost out.” he nodded, and the group heaved a relieved sigh… until a sudden shout came from behind them.

“HEY!” came a voice, the group jumping in shock, then turning to see someone standing there in the gloom.

Stephy started a bit, recognizing him… or at least, what was left of him. “You! You’re that vampire that was harassing our classmate!” he shouted.

“That’s MALIK to you bitch!” he snarled, stumbling forward, his fangs bared.

His time in the briars had not been kind to Malik. The vampire’s skin was pierced through in several spots with thorny vines that he had clearly tried and failed to remove, wrapped firmly around his limbs, and half his face had been scratched away to reveal his teeth and gumline. He dripped blood as he walked, and not much, the vampire having likely found little to feed on among the thorns… but now his eyes glowed a baleful crimson as he eyed the group before him.

“Beware…” whispered Natasha, “He is but a child, but his fear and hunger have made him desperate. I cannot be certain what he will do…” she nodded, preparing to block his way.

“Days… weeks… I dunno how fucking long its been… but I’m so godsdamn HUNGRY!” he snarled, “AND I’M GOING TO TAKE IT OUT OF EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU! FEEL THE WRATH OF THE LORD OF THE NI-…” he began, then suddenly he jerked to a halt, his sentence ending in a wet sounding gurgle.

Malik looked down, and so did everyone else, to see a shiny metal hook sticking through his middle. “W-where did…” he choked, then suddenly he flew backwards with a scream, the hook attached to a long chain stretching behind him.

“Oh shit…” whispered Nelen.

“Sammi, was that the thing you were talking about?!” growled Arja, conjuring as big a flame as she could against the chill of the winter-locked Hedge.

“Oak and ash it must be!” he exclaimed, drawing his rapier as a massive shape trundled forward into the moonlight.

The beings who lived within the Hedge were, by and large, known as either goblins or hobgoblins. The former were more civilized, intelligent, and favored making deals and doing business with changelings and others who knew of them. There was a reason it was called The Goblin Market after all. That being said, not all goblins were nice, and their deals had a nasty way of biting one in the rear. They sometimes did it for their own gain, or they did it because they found it amusing to do so.

Hobgoblins however, were a different breed. They were the Wild Things of the Hedge, the Unseelie to the goblin's Seelie. They were powerful, often moreso than their goblin cousins, and quite often very very wicked. The wolf who impersonated a sweet little girl's grandmother, the seemingly nice old woman who offered wandering children sweets and to come in out of the cold, and sometimes ones that didn't even bother with that pretense. These were the things that went bump in the night. These were the monsters that haunted the closets and the gap beneath the bed... and if a mortal creature stayed in the Hedge for too long, they may find themselves joining their ranks.

The little piggy was no longer little. Decades in the hedge had warped him from a small farm animal into a massive bipedal hobgoblin! His snout twitched eagerly as drool dribbled out between two massive tusks, the creature standing on its hind legs as its potbelly jiggled with each step. It held the chain of a meathook in one hoof-like hand, and in the other it held a huge and extremely sharp looking butcher’s knife! Its skin was pink, almost cartoonishly so, but its mouth and belly were stained a dark brownish red, where blood had dried and crusted over years and years.

Hanging over its back, from another meathook, was the struggling form of Malik the vampire, trying in vain to free himself.

The porcine monster cocked its head, snorting loudly. “Meat? Fresh meat? Lovely meat, tuppence a pound!” it growled out, sounding like a barker at the butcher’s market might. It didn’t sound like it really understood what it said, more like it was just mimicking the words like a parrot might.

Sammi glanced at Stephy, “My dear, there should be a glass jar full of what looks like honey in your bag…” he said, “I want you to take it out, take the lid off, and toss it at him as hard as you can.”

Stephy nodded, reaching into his purse, then finding it. It didn’t look like much, not even the size of a soda can, but he unstoppered it, then threw it towards the hobgoblin!

The pig-like beast squealed and his right arm was a blur, slashing out with the butcher’s knife and shattering the jar… then pausing and looking at the blade, now coated with the sticky honey. “Honeyed ham? Thruppence? Just the thing for Christmas Dinner?” it tried, then suddenly a buzzing filled the air.

“RUN! EVERYONE RUN NOW!” shouted the changeling prince as they turned and ran away from the beast and, from the woods nearby, a massive swarm of bees emerged. Normally they would slumber away the winter, but if one stole their honey the entire hive would swarm the offending creature!

They were huge things, as big as an adult’s closed fist, and each one had a wicked looking stinger that dripped a vile green fluid, and a disturbingly human-like face with huge multifaceted eyes and a long proboscis that flicked out of an all too human mouth!

“Honey thief!” the swarm buzzed in fury, “Wretched filthy greedy thief! Sting them! Sting the thief!”

The pig-hobgoblin squealed in pain as it flailed it’s butcher’s knife, trying to slice away it’s insectoid attackers. “BAD BATCH! FLIES GOT TO IT! LEAVE IT FOR THE DOGS!” it squealed in agony as the group fled the scene, making as fast as they could for the Hedge version of the city.

The group had barely gotten a hundred yards when a furious squeal came behind them and the ground began to shake. Simoni dared a glance and screamed as the pig trundled into view, swirling a hook above its head menacingly.

“BREAKOUT! STOCK ESCAPING! CATCH ‘EM OR YOU PAY TEN PENCE A HEAD FOR EACH THAT GETS AWAY, LAYABOUTS!” it roared, lashing out with the hook as Simoni let out another scream, but a different sort. The wind howled through the thorns and a blast of air shot over their heads, knocking the hook off course and into a tree, hooking it through the wood!

The pig snorted in fury and tugged hard, trying to free it as its muscles bulged… but Stephy took this as an opportunity. He reached into his purse and pulled out another bellbomb pepper, “This is my last one guys! Make it count!” he warned, tearing the stem off and throwing it as hard as he could as Simoni whistled up another gale, bouncing it up towards the hobgoblin’s face.

The goblin fruit exploded and the pig-hobgoblin squealed in fury and pain, thrashing about as it tore the hook free, the tree crashing to the ground as the violent act toppled it! “PEPPERED BACON! PERFECT FOR BREAKFAST!” it cried out, frantically rubbing at its reddening face and eyes as the group laid on the speed, and after another several yards they burst out of the trees and onto a maddened version of the riverfront!

Stephy and Sammi skidded to a halt, looking around frantically. “Find a gate, find a gate…” whined Stephy, then he gasped, “EVERYONE! FOLLOW ME!” he called, running towards a huge building across a large parking lot. As he did the trees erupted as the hobgoblin burst free, sending a group of piskies who had been watching them curiously scattering in all directions.

They made it to the building and skidded to a halt at what appeared to be a metal turnstile, staring into the gloom.

“Now what do we do?!” shouted Arja as Nelen pressed against the metal with his full weight, but it refused to budge.

“It needs a key! Hang on… lemme just…” whined Stephy, focusing on it as hard as he could, then he snapped his fingers. “I got it! Okay, this is gonna look nuts but…” he took a deep breath, then sang, “Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the PARK!” and rushed the gate, which suddenly spun as he vanished.

The group stared, then looked behind them as the pig monster tore through the parking lot, upending cars as it went.

“All together guys!” yowled Dawn, her eyes huge, and as one chorus they all sang the verse and shoved their way through the turnstile… and landed in a heap in a darkened and empty building, the porcine pursuer nowhere to be seen.

Nelen stood up, sliding his glasses back on, and looked around, “… uh, where are we?” he asked.

Stephy giggled awkwardly, dusting off his skirt. “Great American Ballpark, gate number seven.” he nodded, “It’s a Hedge Gate that only opens during the off season, but most people don’t use it because its too public.”

Arja looked around, “Ballpark? Do they play that weird American version of cricket here?” she asked.

“Baseball, but yeah.” replied Nelen as he stretched his back, “Fuck me I’m getting too old for this shit…”

The group picked each other up, then Nelen walked his way to the nearest wall and sighed, “Well… at least now we know what we’re up against. Fucking figures… its not that Al, but its still one who can send an entire city’s worth of undead right up our collective ass.” he frowned.

“Yeah… crazy co-incidence with the names though.” mrowled Dawn. “I mean, if we had a nickel for every time we had to save a city from some nutjob called Al we’d have two nickels… which ain’t a lot, but its weird it happened twice.”

After a moment of silence she frowned, “Really? Not even a chuckle? C’mon! That was too perfect not to use!” she yowled.

“Timing Dawn…” grumbled Nelen as he put his hand on the wall. “Maybe don’t make the joke just after we outrun some cannibal hedge-monster-pig.” he sighed, then said in passable Lemurian, “Open up, you bastards!”

A second later, the Wulfshead door appeared on the wall, and the group walked inside to safety and several very well-earned drinks.

Their foe was now known, not the infamous and powerful demon Agaliarept, but another old enemy of Nelen’s returned to threaten them anew. Vampire Prince Alfred may not be the powerhouse that the hellspawn had been, but he still commanded the undead of Cincinnati and had three powerful allies remaining who would wish to see him remain in power.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Bad Blood

The Peters Cartridge Company Building, Cincinnati Ohio

It had originally been an ammunition manufacturer founded in 1887 which supplied multiple countries with weaponry during both the first and second world war, but their fortunes had ended with the end of the second of those and the company folded. It fell into disrepair after 1968 but was soon put on the registry of historic buildings in the mid-80s. Today the building is home to a brewery and an apartment complex… at least on paper.

In private however, the old building is home to quite a bit more.

Nelen pulled up outside the building in the largest rental vehicle he could obtain on short notice… but the simple fact of the matter was not all of them could come. Drusilla would have taken up most of the back by herself, and then there would be the matter of Lupe and Natasha, as well as the changeling prince and princess, Tex, and their recently arrived Indian allies Arja and Simoni… so it was decided that Drusilla would have to remain behind to guard the Smith Household.

Tex stayed back as well, the only human of their party besides Nelen would have been an obvious target for their foes. Nicu and Lupe stayed as well, though Natasha had insisted on coming to see this prince who would encourage suicidal levels of exposure among the vampires herself.

As he found a secluded area to park in he looked behind him, Dawn sitting shotgun in the bus. “Alright, we all remember the plan? If we can expose Al for what he really is then its entirely possible the vampires will join us or run for the hills, either way that means we won’t have to deal with them.” he nodded firmly, the magus dressed in just a winter jacket over his jeans and teeshirt, with sturdy boots.

“Quite, few vampyr would be insane enough to willingly side with a being of Hell. Our souls are in a tenuous enough state as it is.” agreed Natasha. She had dressed as she often did, in gothic finery. Even going into a battle she would not demean herself by wearing different garb.

Stephy was dressed in the same outfit he wore to fight Clarence, the changeling princess checking their purse again. “Got a few nasty surprises. Some more of those sunflowers that I told you about, a few bellbomb peppers…” he nodded as Sammi checked the edge on his rapier.

“Well, we’ll just have to hope that this does not go against us Nelen…” murmured the princeling, “If all else fails I can open a path to the Hedge, but we will have to come out somewhere, and the Hedge around here is… well…” he looked around, “Lets just hope it is not needed...”

“We’ll take that chance when it comes… and Arja?” asked Nelen.

“Yuth?” she replied, her voice muffled.

Nelen frowned, “… aren’t you being just a bit melodramatic?”

Arja sat there bundled against the cold, the vanara girl wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans with long underwear under a jacket that was also under a winter coat, two scarves wrapped around her face, and a bobble hat pulled over her head, her hands covered in thick woolen mittens and her feet crammed into fur-lined snowboots.

“… nuh.” she replied, narrowing her eyes at the magus.

Sammi grinned, chuckling to himself, as the vanara glared at him. “Wut?” she growled.

“Oh, nothing… just remembering all those times when I commented on how unpleasant the weather was in New Orleans, or Texas, or India…” he whistled innocently as he sheathed his weapon.

Simoni sighed at her, the garuda girl wearing a pair of woolen leggings under a denim skirt and her own snowboots, along with a sleeveless green sweater under a thick winter coat. She had to find a good balance that would allow for talons and wings if needed and had taken Stephy’s advice on leggings. All her legs really did was change shape, and leggings had no feet, so they worked as far as her transformation went. “Arja, we’ll just have to deal as best we can… if we’re fighting against vampires they’ll need someone who can use fire.”

Finally however, the group had to get moving… Dawn went in first, scouting the way invisibly as Simoni and Stephy managed to talk Arja down into ditching the coat and mittens. As a vanara her fighting often relied on agility, and it would be extremely hard to be agile in such bulky winter-wear.

Dawn crept her way through the building, her yellow eyes occasionally shining in the gloom as she made her way further and further towards what Dusty had told them. There was a hidden basement, all she had to do was know where it was and she could teleport them all in at once… and after a bit her sensitive ears picked up the sound of a lot of voices below her.

The cheshire focused, then suddenly was a good fifty feet straight down, standing on the ceiling, and wincing in shock.

There were a LOT of people down there… at least a few dozen that she could see, and she could tell that not all of them were human. A good chunk of ghouls obviously, or just mortal cronies hoping to get in on their master’s good graces to get offered their blood… but on the stage…

She narrowed her eyes, hissing, “Gotcha… ‘Al.’” she frowned, teleporting back to the bus and appearing in the front passenger seat.

“He’s here, and I don’t see his backup dancers anywhere so far.” she nodded.

Nelen grinned, cracking his knuckles, “Alright kids, lets go.” he nodded, taking Dawn’s hand and holding his back towards the rest. The other five put their hands on his and in a swirl of magic they all vanished!

The Hidden Basement under the Cartridge Company Building

“Now… I hear there’s been some bitching about the new policies…” began Al, the vampire prince wearing the same suit as before, but now with several fancy rings on his fingers and a pendant around his neck. He wore a thick pair of sunglasses over his eyes and a fedora hat. The sunglasses he felt made him look impressive, and the hat went with the suit.

He’d found Archibald’s old jewelry box and had taken some choice items. His left hand had several solid gold rings set with large gemstones etched with the image of strange creatures on them. On his ring finger was one with a huge ruby showing a shape like some strange lizard, his middle finger had an emerald with a scorpion design, and so on. The pendant was a stylized dragon, a symbol of power among some circles of vampires. Even among the undead, some believed in the power of the ’Son of the Dragon,’ Vlad Dracul.

“… and I heard rumors that one of our big shots has been staked.” he added, “I checked with my advisors, and ain’t nobody fuckin’ told me that the Mill Creek Monster got taken out! So those rumors stop NOW!” he slammed his fist down. “The Rat can do what he fuckin’ wants! If he wants to go play hide ‘n seek I don’t give a shit.”

There were several murmurs among the crowd, including among one very confused coterie who had been sent to the old Paper Mill personally by Astaroth… he had lied to the Prince about Clarence’s death? They saw some pretty obvious proof that he was gone for good…

“But the main thing is there’s still little chicken shits out there who don’t want to live like TRUE vampires!” he snarled, “We ain’t human, so stop pretendin’ to be! We’re BETTER than human! They’re our goddamn FOOD! They’re LESS than us! They don’t fuckin’ MATTER anymore unless they prove they do!”

The ghouls in the crowd shared worried looks at that, as did their mortal counterparts… as if they were just now realizing that they were swimming with the proverbial sharks. They looked to the vampires they served, but the undead refused to meet their gaze.

“I got Walter out tonight, ‘n he’s dealing with another group that was planning to ice me… so if anyone gets any dumb ideas…” he began…

… and that’s when the door to the basement was blasted off its hinges.

Wood splinters and embers soared over the heads of the crowd as a cry of alarm went up among the assembled undead and their minions and into the room rushed Nelen, a silver tipped stake already in hand, alongside Dawn whose hat and glasses were gone to reveal her feline features.

Stephy and Sammi came next, the changeling princess generating a swirl of ice and snow around his hand as the prince drew his blade and held it ready. Alongside them strode Natasha, her cane already opened to reveal her own weapon should it be needed.

Finally Arja jumped over the group and landed before them in her vanara form, her tail thrashing behind her as flames flickered behind her monkey-like fangs. She hated how cold it was here and was quite eager to turn up the heat. Simoni landed next to her, the garuda shedding her wings and scales to return to her human form.

“That’s ENOUGH!” snapped Stephy, stepping forward as he reached into his purse, pulling out a fresh bellbomb pepper. “We know who you really are! Did we not beat you badly enough last year ‘Al?’”

The prince rose from behind the podium where he’d taken shelter when the door was blown apart, hearing the changeling’s declaration… though, his reaction may not be what Stephy expected.

“… the fuck are you talking about? Who the hell ARE you?” he asked.

Stephy glared back, “Don’t play dumb! I heard Astaroth say your name and there’s only one ‘Al’ we know who could cause this much trouble!” he retorted… until he felt Nelen’s hand on his shoulder.

“Stephy…” he frowned, raising his eyebrow at the prince. “… that’s… not Al.”

“What?!” asked Stephy as Sammi faltered, his sword lowering a bit as Dawn stared at him. Arja and Simoni looked over their shoulders as well. Even Natasha looked surprised at this, glancing between him and the prince.

“Uh… well, that is my name…” commented the Prince. He was able to hear them even in the back, the basement had very good acoustics, and vampires had excellent hearing. The crowd was stunned, not sure how to react yet at the sudden interruption by a gaggle of supernaturals.

Stephy shook his head, “That’s the new prince! That’s the one who took over! We saw him in Dusty’s vision! That’s gotta be Al!” he insisted.

Nelen sighed, “Yeah, well Cernunnos can sense demonic auras and he says this guy is just another bloodsucker… That’s NOT Al!”

“Yes he is!” insisted the changeling.

“Yes I am…” commented the increasingly confused prince.

Stephy looked at the prince, then back at Nelen, “But… But I heard Astaroth…” he started, Nelen held up a hand however.

“Stephy… Did this guy say ‘Al,’ or did he say ‘Agaliarept?’” asked the magus in a rather strained tone.

“… er… he said… ‘Al.’” replied the changeling, their cheeks coloring as they began to realize their error.

“Stephy… do you know how COMMON a name like that is?” grimaced Nelen, “He could have been talking about an Albert, or an Alan, or an Alberto, or… THERE’S A LOT OF DAMN NAMES THAT START WITH ‘A L!’”

Dawn coughed, looking around, “Well… this got awkward in a hurry…” she muttered, glancing back at Nelen, “So… uh… Nelen, should I just yoink us outta here or…”

However as soon as she said that there was an audible snapping sound.

The group looked up, as did the assembled undead and their minions.

The prince’s face was an enraged grimace, his hand gripping the podium so hard he’d broken a chunk of it away, crushing it in his hand with his vampiric strength. “What… did you say his name was?” he asked.

Nelen frowned, stepping forward and looking straight at the prince’s face. “Its Nelen Fullmoon. Whats it to you Dracula?” he asked.

The prince stepped down from the podium, grinning at them… and it was a very nasty grin indeed. “Oh this is TOO fucking perfect! I’ve been waiting years for this!” he snarled, taking off his glasses and tossing his hat to the side.

Nelen squinted at his face, then his eyes widened, “You…” he glared back, “YOU MURDEROUS SON OF A BITCH!” he spat in fury as the rest of the group looked at the prince.

“Wait, Nelen… YOU know him?!” asked Stephy in shock.

“Oh I fucking know THIS piece of shit!” he growled, “He’s the reason I wound up saddled with a demon for a fucking decade!”

The vampire prince slowed to a halt, flexing his hands, “The little fag had it coming Fullmoon.” he retorted.

“SHUT YOUR GODSDAMN MOUTH MURDER!” he snapped, striding forward as if he’d forgotten all about the other undead in the room. “He’d never done anything to you, you wouldn’t have even known his fucking name if you hadn’t heard about him coming out… and what did you do?!”

Simoni stared, the pieces clicking together in her head, “Oh shit…”

“You and your rich asshole friends CHAINED HIM TO THE BACK OF YOUR TRUCK AND DRAGGED HIM UNTIL HIS BODY FELL APART!” he spat, every line in his face showing nothing but blind fury. “Yeah, I know exactly who this fucker is…” he growled, “Alfred Ludsthorp… heir to one of the local political dynasties… and someone who should be trapped in the quarantine ward at St. Elizabeth for the rest of his pathetic life.”

There was silence all around. Nelen’s allies knew his story now, about how his friend had come out as gay in the days before it was even remotely safe to do so, how the wrong people had heard about it, and how he had been tortured to death by a group of their well-to-do classmates.

How, when one of them went to his father to protect them, he was able to get away without even so much as being arrested because his father put pressure on the police to ignore the crime. How this drove Nelen to seek revenge in the worst way possible. He could have simply beaten them to a pulp with his own inborn Fullmoon strength… but instead he’d gone with something much darker.

He wanted those who had tortured his friend to death to suffer for what they’d done… and he made a deal with something awful to do it.

Standing before them was the man who had committed the murder that had sent Nelen down the road that led to him making a pact with Merihim, Demon of the Court of Wrath.

One Year Ago…

Francis Ludsthorp was a broken man. He had spent every cent he had to try to cure his son, to no avail. Antibiotics were useless, gene therapy was a lost cause, they’d even tried experimental radiation therapy without success.

He was running out of money. His political career was in shambles. About four years after his son wound up hospitalized his personal financial records had been stolen and leaked onto the internet showing how he’d been embezzling funds from the local government to line his own pockets. How he’d been using them to pay off investigators… there were even videos of the more recent meetings (god only knew how! The video looked like it was recorded from the ceiling!) A recall vote came shortly after, and when the dust settled nobody would trust him to run a gas station nevermind hold public office.

Then, one day, he got a call from the hospital. That year, just near the tail end of February, his son’s disease had just… stopped. It’d just vanished, all trace of it in his body. The virus cells were just suddenly gone.

He’d almost called it a miracle, until the hospital told him the rest of the story. The virus was gone, but the damage had been done. His son’s body was a disaster. The disease was akin to leprosy with a nasty grudge against its host and ten times more destructive than any strain they’d ever seen. Alfred would likely never walk again, his arms were atrophied to the point of uselessness, he was almost totally blind, it was a miracle he was alive at all…

Desperation took him. He wanted something, ANYTHING, that could help his son… and after weeks of searching, he found his chance.

The more superstitious doctors had commented that this disease almost seemed more like being cursed than sick with how little effect medicine had on it… and why not replace one curse with another. He was in politics, he always knew that there were some extreme ways to get power in the Greater Cincinnati Area… well, maybe that could save his son.

Thus, in the dead of night, he brought his son to a secluded warehouse, and met a man he would only ever know as William.

He didn’t stay to watch the deed get done, he couldn’t stand to see such a thing happen. Once it was over he insisted on taking his son home with him, despite William's warnings not to.

That next evening he went into his son’s bedroom to find him sitting up in bed, looking straight at him.

Francis ran forward to embrace his boy… and found out why William had tried to convince him to leave his son with him instead.

When Alfred finished with his father, and facing the horror of what he had done, William was waiting for him… and that was where his life as a human being had ended.

The Cartridge Company Basement, Present Day

The room was deathly silent, Nelen and Alfred staring each other down… then suddenly there was a small snicker.

“Wait… his name was Alfred all this time?” asked Dawn, “Like… Batman’s butler?” she snorted as Sammi put a hand to his mouth, trying to hide his grin as he held his rapier ready. Even Arja had to let out a small chuckle at that.

The prince’s eye twitched, his vampiric hearing able to pick out several stifled chuckles from the crowd as a few others made the connection themselves.

Nelen ignored her though, “How the hells did a worthless sack of crap like you wind up as the Prince?” he demanded.

Alfred sneered, “Like I’d tell you Fullmoon… but you’re right, I am in charge here… EVERYONE!” he snapped his fingers, “This is an order from your Boss! KILL ‘EM!” he shouted!

Nelen blinked, then remembered he was surrounded by the prince’s allies. “Fuck.” he whispered, then an instant later he vanished and reappeared behind the others as Stephy and Simoni ran forward and tore the stems off a pair of bellbomb peppers.

“BOMBS AWAY!” shouted Simoni, throwing her’s to the right as Stephy threw his to the left, the plants landing amid the crowd of vampires and their minions.

“Hope you guys like it spicy!” laughed Stephy as the peppers exploded into a massive cloud of capuchin and glamour, cries of pain erupting from within the mob as Arja moved forward, took a deep breath, and exhaled a huge cone of flame directly at Alfred!

The prince’s eyes widened as he grimaced, a wall of fire racing directly towards him! “SHIT!” he cried out, covering his face with his hands, and the flames hit home, blasting out around his form and scorching anyone too close to flee in time!

Several ghouls and a couple vampires went down, the latter screaming in terror as the flames ate away at their undead flesh… and then the flames died to reveal the prince crouching defensively… but totally unhurt.

Alfred looked up, clearly every bit as surprised as Arja was, a strange glow fading from the ruby ring he wore. “… uh… yeah… totally knew that’d happen…” he coughed, standing up, “WELL? DON’T JUST STAND THERE! GET THEM DAMMIT!” he shouted.

At this point the mob was quite likely to agree with them, several of them half blind and in pain from the peppery goblin fruit, the others recognizing that whoever they were they were definitely their enemies! All around them they could hear the cock of handguns, the sound of knives being drawn from boots or belt sheathes, and see the vampires assembled readying their own attacks.

“Dammit! DAWN!” yelled Nelen, “PLAN FIFTY THREE!”

Dawn nodded, then the group huddled together as she focused, and with a loud thunderclap they vanished from the room.

Plan Fifty Three: RUN LIKE HELL!

The group reappeared on the ground level outside, next to where Nelen had hidden their vehicle. “GO GO GO! GET INSIDE NOW!” he shouted, running towards the driver’s side as he fumbled with the keys, the rest of the group frantically rushing into their seats and bracing themselves.

Nelen stomped the gas hard and the van lurched forward, then he spun it around and gunned the engine as hard as it would let him go as the doors to the building burst open and after a few minutes several cars raced out of the parking lot after them!

Dawn glanced at the mirror and let out a low whining meow, “Neleeeeeeeeen! They’re coming!” she warned.

“Yeah! I noticed!” snapped the magus, pushing the engine until it cried as he tried to gain distance… but this vehicle had been built for hauling, not speed! “Shit, can SOMEONE slow them down?!” he asked.

Simoni whined, looking outside, but trying to fly in that chill would be borderline impossible! She’d be an ice cube before they got halfway above them...

For Stephy however… “Dawn! Get me and Sammi onto the roof!” he nodded, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his boots. The cheshire nodded and grabbed both their hands, then teleported them up ontop of the van before warping herself quickly back inside as Stephy transformed, spreading his wings and trying to hold onto the swerving vehicle with his talons as Nelen fought with the icy roads below.

Sammi took his sibling’s purse, then climbed atop his back and nodded to him, the changeling princess letting out a loud birdlike cry as they took to the air!

Stephy yelped in surprise as the cars shot past below them, then whistled up a sharp tailwind and shot forward after them as Sammi dug through his purse. “Moving too fast to freeze the roads under them… bellbombs are worthless, they’ll have the windows up… no… not this one either… AHA!” he nodded, pulling out what looked like a strange straw doll, but made from a thorny vine rather than straw. “Stephy! Get ahead of them if you can!” he nodded.

Stephy focused, then let out another cry as they shot forward, the princess glancing below, then Sammi nodded and took the doll, gritting his teeth as he intentionally drew a thorn over his finger. “A little red water to help you grow m’dear…” he whispered, then tossed it down infront of the cars. It missed the first two, landed right infront of a second pair, and by the time the two following them reached that spot the drivers found a rather nasty surprise! The road was suddenly covered with a huge mass of razor sharp, unnaturally strong, and four-inch-long thorns! There were several loud bangs and their cars spun out of control as their tires were shredded to ribbons!

“Nice throw!” grinned Stephy, then he shrieked as several loud bangs came from below them. Their pursuers had realized they had enemies above, and they’d come prepared for a fight! Bullets whizzed by them as Stephy flapped to slow down, narrowly dodging a hail of lead… but this meant the windows were open now.

“Sammi! Get ready!” he nodded, shooting forward in the sky and angling downwards. They drew nearly level with the ground as Sammi pulled a bellbomb pepper out of his purse, biting the stem off… and as soon as they got close enough to one of the cars he threw it in through the passenger window and Stephy immediately flapped as hard as he could to regain altitude!

They were close long enough to hear, ‘is that a fucking pepper?’ before there was a massive splattery sound and the windows were covered in pulp and spices, screams coming from inside as the car swerved out of control before crashing into a ditch!

The changeling princess yelped as another spray of bullets shot up from below… then they looked forward to see the backdoor of the van opening.

Dawn was there, holding onto a handle built into the back of the van, and she was holding something… She grinned, then opened a cardboard box and poured out what looked like a bunch of shining metal objects, and another car went spinning out of control before slamming headlong into a tree!

That still left two though, and they were close enough to get a clear shot now! Several gunshots rang out, but the shadows under the door suddenly stretched down and hardened, and the bullets bounced off the barrier of darkness it created!

Of course… all this chaos couldn’t go unnoticed forever… and Sammi looked out across the snowy landscape to see something else on a nearby road. Several vehicles were approaching at speed, with flashing red and blue lights. “Oh oak and ash… someone called the police!” he swore, “Stephy!”

“I know I know… dammit what are we gonna do…” he whined, looking around. It’d be foolish to assume that the local vampire courts wouldn’t have agents in law enforcement. They could easily arrange for an ‘accident’ to occur in custody, it happened often enough already!

Then they saw ahead of them, a large bridge, a covered bridge to be specific. “Sammi… I know its dangerous around here… but we don’t really have any other choice!”

Sammi frowned, “I fear you’re right… blast it all, we’ll just have to take the risk!” he nodded as the two focused on the archway the bridge made and drew upon their own connection to the Wyrd.

Inside the van Nelen’s knuckles were almost white as he raced towards the bridge, bullets whizzing past on both sides of the vehicle as Arja and Simoni held on for dear life.

Suddenly, the space infront of him seemed to distort, the magus frowning. “What the… OH SHIT!” he swore as he realized what he was seeing, the view of the bridge shifting to reveal a pathway of thorn covered trees in a moonlit forest. “KIDS! HANG ON TIGHT!” he shouted as the van barreled over the bridge, the two cars behind it swerving to a halt as they saw the strange display… just in time for Sammi and Stephy to shoot past above them through the gateway, the portal slamming shut as the bridge returned to normal.

“The fuck was that…” asked one of the drivers as they got out of the car, staring at where the van had disappeared.

“Man I got no damn clue… c’mon, lets head back.” replied the other as they got back in their cars.

Soon the police arrived and took stock of the carnage along the roadside and the four wrecked vehicles… but of the van there was no sign.

Somewhere else…

Nelen slumped over the steering wheel of the van, the front end totaled from where it’d hit one of the trees. He raised his head with a groan, then looked around…

He’d grown up around here, he knew most of the area, but this was well beyond the fields he knew.

Stephy and Sammi had saved them from their pursuers and local law enforcement by sending them into the depths of the Hedge.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

CLANG!

Jaipur India

It had been a week, and Arja and Simoni returned home. Sadly however, Akul could offer little. A week of scouring ancient texts and examining their family’s stockpile of magical artifacts offered nothing. No tools or spells or techniques to resist the cold or ice.

They were the Vanara, the monkey-folk of India, a part of the world that didn’t even have winter but rather had a mild season that they called ‘winter,’ then Summer, then Monsoon, then post-Monsoon. Snow was something they only ever saw in the highest mountains or on television. They’d never needed a way to resist the cold before!

Simoni landed outside the house with a sigh, letting Arja off her back as she changed back to her human form. “Well, it was worth a try Arja…” she shrugged, “We’ll just have to deal with it somehow.”

Arja sighed loudly, looking upwards at the sky as she leaned back, “Yeaaaaaaaaaaaah, just… uuuuuuugh…” she frowned, “I’m gonna have to bundle up like crazy just to keep from freezing already! How am I going to fight like that?!”

“I dunno, hell flying is gonna be impossible for… huh?” she paused, the garuda as she looked around… one of the bushes outside the house was moving.

Suddenly the bush burst open and a podgy man with a bad combover and a too small teeshirt burst into view. The twigs and sticks stuck in his hair suggested he’d been hiding there for a while. He raised his smartphone at them. “ARJA!” he grinned widely, aiming the camera lens at her.

Arja scowled and immediately transformed, her hands bursting into flames, “OH HELL NO! I AM IN NO MOOD FOR ANOTHER ONE OF YOU TODAY!” she snarled.

Simoni looked around frantically, “GUARDS! HEY! INTRUDER! SOMEONE GET NELEN! HURRY!” she called out.

Arja began channeling a burst of fire, all worry about the cold forgotten. This had been happening ever since they got back from Sri Lanka and she was fed UP with it! “One chance you freaking sicko! Put the phone away and leave, NOW, or you’re ash!”

Simoni whined, but she wasn’t strong enough to hold Arja back and the girl’s temper was burning hot! “GUARDS! C’MON ALREADY!” she called out again, she’d use her magic if she had to…

Then suddenly there was a loud metallic CLANG!

The intruder jolted, then their eyes went crossed before they slowly pitched over, landing on the ground in a heap.

Standing behind them was a small girl with long dark hair and one massive green eye who looked like she might be in preschool, wearing a pink teeshirt with a picture of a Pikachu on it, a denim skirt, and a pair of pink sandals… and holding a folding chair with a large head-shaped dent in it.

“… ‘N 'ERE COMES SCYLLA WITH A STEEL CHAIR!” laughed a figure behind them.

Arja stared at the crumpled form of her would be paparazzi, then turned behind her to see Loren walking forward with a grin. “Hoy there ye wee monkey. Nelen ain’t in. ‘e had ta go back up yer faerie friends, so I’m playin’ babysitter.”

Simoni looked between her and Scylla, then frowned. She had heard a few things about Loren from when they were working together at the Wulfshead before they’d overthrown Franklin Fullmoon, and one of those was that she was a very big fan of wrestling. “Loren… why did my niece just clobber him with a folding chair?” she asked pointedly.

“STEEWL CHAIW! STEEWL CHAIW!” cheered Scylla, waving the damaged object over her head as if it weighed nothing at all.

“Look, if our cous is gonna ‘ave me babysit he can’t expect me ta nae teach th’ wee ‘un a thing or two…” she laughed… then the three looked over as they heard a groan. The intruder was trying to rise.

Scylla frowned at him and CLANG! “NO!” she shouted, “STEEWL CHAIW!” she insisted, pointing to it as he collapsed again.

Arja had resumed her human form, the vanara girl grinning, “Well, I’m not going to complain if Scylla brains one of these idiots. What are they going to do? Press charges on a little girl?” she asked, “I mean, she won’t kill him…”

Then the three jumped as another loud CLANG echoed around the area! “STEEWL CHAIW!” shouted Scylla once more!

Then again!

Then again!

Then yet again!

Loren winced, “Ah… Scylla lass! That’s enough! ‘e’s down! Ye win!” she called out.

Simoni looked around frantically, “Where the HELL are the guards?!”

CLANG CLANG CLANG!

“OKAY SCYLLA! YE WIN! I’M RINGIN’ TH’ BELL! THAT MEANS YE WIN!” yelled Loren, looking worried now. Nelen would be VERY pissed off if she caused his daughter to commit unintentional homicide!

Simoni looked back and forth nervously. Scylla could get very grabby and shove-y when she got wound up, and she was strong enough to break her arm by accident! She couldn’t exactly go in and pull her off him!

“STEEWL CHAIW! STEEWL CHAIW!” chanted Scylla at the top of her lungs, then suddenly there was a loud CRACK and the top half of the chair snapped clean away from the bottom half, landing in the bushes! “… no moaw steewl chaiw?” asked Scylla, looking at it.

Both Loren and Simoni breathed a sigh of relief… then froze as they heard Scylla shout, “PIL’DWIVUH!”

“SHITE! NO NO NO NO NO!” yelled Loren frantically as she raced forward, easily the only one there who could hope to be strong enough to stop her.

Simoni cringed as she saw what state their home invader was in. Whether he was there illegally or not, this was pretty bad as far as injuries went. “Oh those guards are SO fired! WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?!”

Arja just grinned, “… I’m not complaining. I didn’t do it.” she nodded.

Loren walked back over, holding the struggling form of Scylla tight to her chest as the cyclops child screamed and yelled, “Er… so… cannae ask ye lasses ta not tell Nelen ‘bout this?” she chuckled.

“FIGHT NO OVAH! WANNA WRASSLE!” screamed Scylla at the top of her lungs, trying to force herself free from Loren’s grip as the Fullmoon warrior held her as tightly as she could.

Eventually the guards were located and after a lot of shouting back and forth about whose shift it was and Rajesh eventually cutting in with ‘I don’t care who’s at fault, get him to a hospital and then on a plane back to wherever he came from!’ the group retreated inside, Scylla in her room now with an angry expression.

Loren had, as her babysitter, tried to explain to her that as fun as fights were that wrestlers had to stop when they heard the bell… but the young cyclops was refusing to accept it, so she had to be sent to her room for time out.

Simoni was mostly just annoyed that Loren thought it was a good idea to let her watch WWE when they already had enough trouble keeping her from breaking things by accident.

Arja however…

Scylla sat on her bed and pouted as Simoni griped at Loren in the other room… then looked up as the door opened a crack and Arja winked at her, sliding a small bowl with three round pastries in it into the room. Gulab Jamin, an Indian treat that was effectively a doughnut dunked in rose sugar.

The cyclops child grinned and ducked forward as Arja said to her, “Can’t do that to all of ‘em, but I won’t pretend I didn’t like seeing that. Still, next time let the grown ups handle it okay? Maybe in a few years you can help us beat up the bad guys.”

Scylla smiled at her around a mouthful of pastry, nodding. “Mmmpgh!”

“Attagirl.” replied Arja, ruffling her hair, then putting a finger to her lips and closing the door behind her, then walking back to the main area of the rec room, “I could get used to being the cool aunt.” she smirked to herself.

Sammi’s Apartment, Covington Kentucky

Nelen sat at the bar with Dawn next to him, the magus dressed in his usual teeshirt and jeans. Hardwearing cheap clothes that could be easily replaced. Dawn was in a teeshirt and jeans as well, but without her sock hat or glasses and with her tail untucked. No need to hide her true nature here.

Across from them were Stephy, Tex, and Sammi. The changeling princess sighed at him, rubbing his temples. “Great, so they attacked our house again. Thank goodness goblins are good at repairs…” he murmured. He was dressed in a white silk pullover top and a long pale blue skirt, along with strappy heels today, his nails painted to match his skirt and his hair held back by a hairband.

“You’re welcome.” chuckled Sammi. The prince, by contrast, had on a deep blue tunic and a pair of black tights, along with a pair of slip-on house shoes. He was currently enjoying a rather fruity decoction consisting of a goblin fruit not entirely unlike pears that made the sound of weeping when juiced, a generous helping of gin, and garnished with a herb that only grew in the depths of Winter in the Hedge, on the rocks (of course.)

Tex rolled his eyes, the mortal boy wearing a warm red woolen sweater and blue jeans at the moment. “Still, good thing ya’ll showed up when ya did… Reynard told us ‘bout th’ fight. Guess now we at least know what they all look like.” he nodded.

“Mmm… would have rather you guys waited for me to take on the Mill Creek Monster though, but at least that’s one of them down.” commented Nelen.

Dawn grinned at him, her tail swishing, “Oh lighten up ya grouchy ol’ wizard. These guys are practically adults themselves. Heck Simoni and Stephy were sorting out problems around here before they even met these two.” she pointed out.

Stephy blushed, “Yeah… before I even knew I could use magic infact…” added the changeling princess. “Mostly I just told her where to go back then, I mean I know the area really well.” he shrugged, then looked at Nelen’s tablet which showed a map of Cincinnati. “Wish I knew it better though… I mean, I don’t know where exactly we should even look for their new Prince. Cincinnati just has too many places.” he sighed.

“Yeah… in a newer city like LA or something we’d have better odds, but Cincinnati is one of the oldest in the country. There’s places here that predate the Civil War that a vampire could have a haven in.” frowned Nelen as he looked over it. “I mean, we can narrow it down… but…”

Then all five of them looked up as the doorknocker echoed thrice...

They all shared a glance. “Did Natasha or anyone say they were coming?” asked Nelen.

Sammi frowned, “No… they did not…” he replied, setting his drink down on the bar and striding to the door, drawing his rapier. He took hold of the doorknob, then jerked it open and held the blade ready… only to take a step back as the acrid smell of fresh skunk hit his nostrils.

Standing in the doorway was a hunched figure in a huge trenchcoat under another heavy winter coat, held up by a cane. Under his jackets was a teeshirt with ‘I didn’t vote for your god’ printed on it. He had wild grey hair and a scraggly beard.

“Ya’ll gonna invite me in or am I just gonna freeze my dick off?” asked Dusty the Hedge Mage.

“Dusty!” grinned Nelen as he sat up, “Hey man, thanks for helping the kids out.”

“No problem. Burned a bit but I got better.” he chuckled, limping his way in and sliding into the bar stool next to Dawn, then looked at Grabkins as the goblin glanced at him. “Surprise me.” he smiled toothlessly.

Sammi was still by the door with a rather annoyed expression, “How the bloody hell did you know how to find the door?!” he demanded.

“Squirrels told me.” he nodded.

Sammi frowned and slammed the door, “I think we’re all getting very tired of that joke.” he snapped, sheathing his rapier as it vanished.

“Pity, ‘cause its true.” he grinned.

“It is the truth Sam. Dusty has been able to talk to them ever since we were kids. Used to use them to play pranks on kids who were assholes to us back when we were in Elementary School together.” he replied.

Stephy looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Wait… that rumor about trees that shoot acorns at Hinsdale was you guys?!” he asked.

Dusty laughed, grinning wide to show his mostly empty jawline as he nodded. “Couldn’t let Nelen just beat th’ shit outta ‘em or else he’d get suspended… soooooo…”

Sammi frowned in annoyance, then glanced at Grabkins who was watching him expectantly. He always made sure with that order. The changeling prince smirked, nodding, “You heard him Grabkins, surprise him.”

The goblin shrugged, “Right ye are m’lord.” and set to work.

“Hang on… if he could do stuff like that when he was a kid he can’t just be a hedge mage…” murmured Stephy, “He’s got to be from some sort of supernatural bloodline. Learning an animal’s language can take an entire lifetime.”

Nelen shrugged, “Nope, he’s human. Mom made a point of checking when she found out he could do that in case Franklin caught wind of it. He’s just some sort of prodigy when it comes to certain tricks.” he replied, “So, why are you here though? You wouldn’t limp your twisted up spine all the way to Covington in the dead of winter just to say hello.”

Dusty nodded, “Aye, well… ‘cause th’ squirrels heard somethin’ important.” he nodded, waving for them to pass over the tablet. He zoomed around the map a bit, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated, then tapped a spot on it and nodded. “There! Squirrels heard some of th’ vampires talkin’. Big meetin’ there night after tomorrow night, ‘n their new boss is gonna be there.”

Nelen looked at it, then raised his eyebrow. “The Peters Cartridge Company building? Huh, but that’s not even abandoned. Theres still businesses working out of there.”

Dusty nodded, “Mmmhmm… ‘n who do ya’ll think owns ‘em?” he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

The group nodded at that. “Vampires.” replied Dawn. Maybe not directly, but it would mean that they could use the premises as they saw fit after hours and nobody would complain about it.

“Yup. They’ll be there in two days though. Squirrels know. They don’t think they listen, but they do.” he grinned, then he looked over as a large margarita glass was put down next to him with… something in it.

It was a very strange cocktail. It was pea soup green, it was thick and syrupy, there were… things floating in it… and it smelled… well… it just smelled.

Sammi watched him with a smirk, “You did ask a goblin to surprise you.” he teased.

Dusty raised his eyebrow at him, then smirked right back, took the large glass in both hands, and drained the entire thing in one go.

Sammi’s eyes went huge, his mouth falling open. He’d seen what Grabkins had put into that one. Some of those ingredients shouldn’t be safe for humans to drink! Some of them were still alive!

Dusty put the glass back down, then burped and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Coulda used some vodka.” he shrugged.

Dawn cackled so hard she fell off her stool onto the floor as Nelen turned to look at Sammi. “Yeah… Dusty isn’t going to shy away from most drinks. I’ve seen him down all sorts of things. Even brought him some Angel’s Urine from the Wulfshead once.” he nodded.

“It tasted like piss!” commented Dusty.

“Dusty, it was piss. The name isn’t a joke.” he replied.

“Still…” shrugged the hedge mage.

Sammi raised a finger, “Er… you might want to… um… I mean… some of those things are going to lay eggs soon…” he stammered.

“Eh, I ain’t worried.” Dusty shrugged.

“He’ll be fine. With all he’s done to himself his body is too toxic to support them.” added Nelen.

Stephy and Tex were staring at him, the two of them stunned into silence. Stephy could tell what sort of mischief Sammi was planning and Tex… well… he could see things moving in the glass, he could tell it wasn’t something he’d want to drink. The thing had its own ecosystem!

Sammi opened his mouth, then closed it, then put his fingers to his lips and looked down, and finally he took a seat as far away from Dusty as he could at the bar and said, “Grabkins, a ‘Midnight Summer’ with extra rosethorn absinthe please…” and went to pretending very pointedly that Dusty was not there.

Grabkins nodded to the prince, then turned to Dusty, “Well done sir.” he smirked, then got to work. While some might assume Grabkins to be akin to a certain type of elf in an unfortunately popular series of fiction, he was infact a paid employee. It had to be that way. No goblin would serve without a contract stipulating some form of recompense… but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy seeing Sammi get rattled on occasion. Goblins did have a rather twisted sense of humor.

As Sammi got his drink, Dusty got something that wasn’t likely to poison a normal person, and Dawn got back up off the floor the group made their plans. They knew where to strike now, all they had to do was get there.

Hopefully they could all go in together. If Arja and Simoni were with them they’d have a much better chance. Fire was lethal to vampires, their undead flesh highly flammable, but they would still have to worry about being outnumbered…

As they discussed plans however, Nelen’s phone rang. He looked at it, then nodded and answered. “Rajesh, whats up?” he asked, a moment later he sighed. “Ugh… dammit I was afraid of that. Look I’m sorry, but we had an emergency and I had to help. I did find Scylla a babysitter. Loren should have been able to run interference for…” he paused as he heard Rajesh speaking again.

“… uh huh… uh huh…” then he grimaced and sat up straight, “SCYLLA DID WHAT?!”

He groaned as he took off his glasses and covered his eyes, “Uuuuugh… at least he’s not dead… godsdammit Loren… okay, Rajesh? We’re going to need Arja and Simoni here by day after tomorrow… so hopefully that’ll discourage her fan club from this shit for a while. Just… tell them, Iravati, and the staff… whatever they do, DRUSILLA CANNOT KNOW THIS HAPPENED.” he nodded firmly. “Thanks… bye…” he sighed, hanging up.

Stephy, Tex, and Sammi looked between each other, then Stephy cleared his throat. “Uh… what happened? What did Scylla do?” he asked.

Dawn was grinning ear to ear, her sensitive hearing having picked up every word Rajesh had said, “Damn near pulped one of Arja’s stalker boys with a steel chair after she and Loren spent a morning watching old WWE reruns.”

Tex snorted as Stephy giggled a bit himself, Sammi having to quickly put down his drink or risk inhaling part of it as Dusty let out a loud cackle.

“Yeah… and for the record NOBODY. TELLS. DRUSILLA. She made me promise her as soon as Scylla first drew blood from a foe she’d get to start teaching her how to fight… and that guy was pretty smashed up so it definitely counts.” he nodded, “I’d like my daughter to not learn how to massacre people until she’s at least in high school dammit.”

Then he turned and looked directly at Dawn, “NOBODY TELLS.” he nodded firmly.

“I didn’t say anything!” she yowled, her tail trashing behind her.

“You thought it.” he said in a warning tone.

Dawn shrugged, “Yeah, I did.” she admitted.

And with that exchange, the meeting broke up. Dawn, Nelen, and Dusty went out to catch up over dinner at a local chili franchise while the others went about their day, preparing for the inevitable conflict with what may well prove to be a dire foe indeed…

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Entering and Breaking

Jaipur, India, 7:15 AM

“Give us... one week Nelen. Then, ready or not, we’ll go.”

That had been six days ago.

Six days prior Arja and Simoni had gone to the Temple of Hanuman in the nearby jungle to travel across realities into the supernatural world to seek her grandfather Akul’s help at overcoming their inherent weakness to cold. While it wouldn’t be lethal to her, it would severely hamper her own fire-based powers.

Still, they didn’t exactly advertise she’d be out of Jaipur for this, which meant a certain problem was still occurring…

Nelen stormed his way towards the front door, wearing just his pajama bottoms with his glasses hastily stuffed over his face, snarling under his breath. “By all the bloody gods and demons would it kill people to check someone’s social media before they issue them a passport?!” he growled angrily as the sounds of a fight came from outside.

He wrenched the door open and shouted, “DAMMIT THEY’RE NOT EVEN HERE! WILL YOU PERVERTS JUST GO THE HELL… away…” he trailed off, looking out at the yard and seeing what was there.

“LOOK OUT!” shouted one guard as he fired his pistol, missing by a hair’s breadth.

“NELEN! THANK GODS! WE NEED SOME HELP!” shouted another as they saw him in the doorway.

“YOU!” shrieked the intruder, seeing him as well, “YOU WERE ONE OF THEM! MURDERER OF OUR PRINCESSSS!” it hissed in fury… literally hissed.

Nelen grimaced and dove out of the way as a talwar sang through the air an inch from where he’d been standing, rolling to the side as he scrambled to his feet and ran to a tree in the nearby yard. “Cernunnos! Stop dozing dammit!” he shouted, tapping his forehead frantically as he grabbed a branch, “This one isn’t some mundy with a monkey fetish!”

The person fighting with Rajesh’s guards wasn’t their usual intruder. With all the annoyances, Nelen had almost forgotten that Arja had real enemies too! A naga assassin was in the middle of the yard, hissing furiously as it slithered towards Nelen like a streak of lightning in snakeskin.

“MURDER! YOU AND ALL OF YOUR ALLIESSS WILL PAY FOR HER DEATH!” it roared.

For centuries the naga believed their princess, Sulochana, had died with Indrajit… but the truth of it was they had both been imprisoned within Claiomh Dorcadas in the years after Clan Fullmoon had lost the mundane blade. She had been freed along with her husband when the sword was destroyed by Arja and Simoni, but then was slain in truth the previous winter after a failed attempt to steal the Arrow of Rama on her husband’s behalf. Her death had several witnesses though, and word had spread among the naga that Nelen was among those who had fought against her the day she’d died.

Nelen shuddered as his eyes became as giant emeralds once more, a pair of glowing antlers sprouting from his temples as the branch he tore off the tree became a hard wooden spear. “Hmph, at least we can just kill this one…” snorted Cernunnos as he raised his weapon.

He jabbed forward hard with it, but the naga was a humanoid serpent and ‘snakelike reflexes’ wasn’t just a figure of speech for it! The warrior dodged to the side, raising his weapon. “VENGEANCE FOR SSSULOCHANA!” it cried in triumph, aiming for his shoulders… then suddenly it shrieked in pain as Cernunnos stumbled, the naga yanked back from him in a blur of scales.

It flew backwards as someone grabbed it’s tail and pulled on it harder than the serpent man would have thought possible, then it crashed to a stop as a hand closed around it’s throat.

“Oi… ‘s me cous ye be swingin’ yer stabber at hissy.” spoke an annoyed voice with a very thick Irish accent. The naga got a glimpse of fiery red hair and a wide grin before the hand around its throat squeezed with bone-crushing force, a snap echoing across the field like a gunshot as it went limp.

Nelen straightened up as Cernunnos’ antlers faded and his eyes returned to their normal color, adjusting his glasses. “… uh… thanks for the save…” he mumbled. “Didn’t know you were in the neighborhood.”

The newcomer shrugged at him. “Me ‘n a few o’ th’ lads were helpin’ out over by Bangladesh ‘n I figured its been a shite’s age since I seen me cous, why not pop in?”

They dropped the dead naga to the ground and dusted off their hands, walking up to Nelen and giving him a playful jab to the shoulder that almost knocked him off his feet. Standing there in a black tanktop, dark green cargo pants with pockets full of all sorts of nasty tricks, a pair of combat boots on their feet, and a large sword in a sheathe on their back. Their hair was sheared short as it often was anymore (‘long hair just gives th’ ghoulies somethin’ else ta grab, aye?’) and they were wearing their chest binder as always.

They were tough as nails, strong as several oxen, and thought gender norms were ‘a load o’ ol’ shite.’ The gender-non-conforming ‘Maven’s Avatar,’ Loren Fullmoon, had come to Jaipur.

“Now, ye gonna just stand there in yer jammies or are ye gonna invite me in Nelen?” she smirked.

Meanwhile, in Cincinnati…

It was early morning in India, but on the East Coast of the US the night had just begun.

Astaroth was not a happy vampire. He didn’t dare send his ghouls back to his former haven for fear of what might be waiting there, not knowing if a fae’s glamour could overwhelm the bonds of blood he’d formed with them.

A ghoul wasn’t quite as undead as it sounded. Rather, they were human, but bound to a vampire by drinking their blood. It kept them from aging and gave them unusual strength and stamina, though nowhere near as much as a true undead would have, but since they were still alive they could go out under the sun without fear. They were the daytime hands of vampires, many of them hoping that one day their masters would see fit to pass the curse of vampirism onto them as well.

However drinking a vampire’s blood also allowed the vampire to influence their thoughts and emotions as well… and he couldn’t be certain that a being like Lady Sera would be able to overpower that bond. He knew about vampirism and blood of course, but of other supernatural matters he knew precious little, a fact that he was now cursing himself for as his ghouls were, instead, scouring local booksellers for any tomes of faerie lore with a hint of legitimacy to them.

Whats worse, the changeling that he’d held captive had vanished again. His men had tracked them to an alleyway near Madison Avenue in Covington behind an empty storefront… and then it was as if they’d simply disappeared into thin air. He suspected this was another facet of their mysterious ‘glamour,’ but he had no way of knowing it.

He paced the floor of his backup haven, his brow furrowed and his hands clasped behind his back. He hated waiting, he itched to do something, anything… but he couldn’t risk it with that faerie out for his blood.

His phone rang in his pocket and in a blur it was in his hand, pressed to his ear.

“What do you have?” he asked into it pointedly.

“We can’t find the changeling Sir…” came the reply, “But we did find their house. Had to beat it outta some of the locals, but we got a name. Stephy Smith. She lives with her adoptive mom and brother in Covington. We’re pretty sure it ain’t empty either. People have been seeing lights in the windows at nighttime.”

“Hm… yes that was likely where the Rat had attacked them. He could have told us, but I’m not certain he knew how to read a street sign in the first place…” he muttered in annoyance. He wasn’t entirely certain how Clarence had found them, but it wasn’t like he was going to get an answer now that the Mill Creek Monster was quite literally dust in the wind. “Do we have any idea who’s inside?”

“Scouts said two kids, one boy and girl, and a large dog… but they couldn’t get close, every time they tried the girl stopped whatever she was doing and went straight to the window, like she could tell they were there…” the caller replied.

“… did they see what she looked like?” he asked.

“Um… small, maybe not even a teenager yet. Goth kid. Think Wednesday Addams.” the voice said.

“… that would likely be Natasha Kernovich if I recall the name correctly.” frowned Astaroth. “Do not be fooled by her appearance. That girl is a vampire, and a very old one. She said that her sire was ‘the Butcher of Cluj’ and from what I could gather from our own history he’s been dead since the sixteen hundreds.”

“Woah… that would’ve made her older than Archie was!” replied the caller in a shocked voice, “Uh… what should we do?” he asked.

“Stand watch for now and send a runner to find Walter. Now that we know where they are, we can send in the muscle.” he sneered.

Covington Kentucky, the Smith residence, two hours later

Natasha sat on the couch next to Nicu, the two of them looking as different as could be despite both of them being undead.

Nicu appeared as he had in life, a young boy who favored teeshirts and bluejeans. Comfortable and easy to move in. The teeshirt he had on was black with a picture of Spider-Man on the front.

By contrast, Natasha was dressed in a wine-red silken top with a high neck and long sleeves, along with a long black skirt that went down to her ankles over high stockings and a pair of heeled boots. Her hair was in an immaculate bun as well, with an elegant hairpin sticking out of it.

“… you know, you don’t have to dress like that all the time Natasha. I mean, you could just wear something comfy around the house.” he pointed out.

Natasha shrugged, “I am quite comfortable like this Nicu. This is how I have dressed for hundreds of years.” she replied.

“I mean, you could still dress kinda like that but… at least in clothes that were made this century. I’m sure Stephy and Sammi could help you find something. Hell I’d be genuinely shocked if they didn’t know every clothing store in the area by name.” he pointed out.

She chuckled, “I am certain they do… but no. I tried wearing more modern things…” she paused, “… last year… and it just does not feel right to me. Like I am not meant to wear such things. You would not ask our friend Stephy to dress like a boy again, would you?” she asked.

Nicu winced a bit. If he could blush, he would be. “… guess when you put it like that…” he mumbled.

She chuckled, then looked at the remote for Tara’s Blue Ray player. “Now… how does one… um…” she picked it up and held it sideways in both hands, looking at it in a confused way.

Nicu grinned, then took it and turned it on, hitting play as the movie they had borrowed from the local library (using Stephy’s card) began to play. “So… you say this is about a vampire… who is also what you call… a super-hero?” she asked.

“Well, sort of…” replied Nicu, “He’s not really a vampire, it was more of a science experiment gone wrong. He’s got powers like ours, but he’s not killed by sunlight. He is weakened by it though. Its… really dumb in parts, but that’s kinda why its fun too.”

“… I see… and the story is called, what, ‘Morbius?’” she asked.

Nicu nodded, “Yep.” he grinned as the opening began playing.

Outside the house, a single person sat at the bus stop despite the busses having already stopped running in this area of Covington for the night. He was too well dressed to be a hobo, but the locals mostly figured he was waiting on a ride of a different sort and picked the bus stop because it was easily recognizable from the road and offered a bench to sit on.

The truth was, he was watching the Smith residence.

As he watched a large truck pulled up next to the stop and the passenger side door opened, and out came a very large man indeed. He had a face like a cinderblock, thick muscular arms, and wore a button down shirt tucked into a pair of slacks but left half-unbuttoned to show his barrel chest.

“Hey lick, is this the spot?” grunted the large man.

“Yessir.” he nodded, “They’re inside. The girl is the leader. She looks young, but Astaroth said she’s gotta be at least a few hundred years old, probably older than Archibald was.”

The man grinned, showing a pair of long sharp canine teeth. “Good… getting bored of kicking around weak shits.” he nodded, cracking his knuckles. “Go ahead ‘n hop in the truck lick. I’ll handle this.”

The ghoul nodded gratefully, climbing into the heated cab of the truck with an audible sigh of relief as the huge man walked around the front and headed towards the house. “Suppose I should knock, its only polite…” he shrugged.

On the TV, a young Michael Morbius limped through a hospital on a pair of crutches as the movie began describing his life afflicted with a degenerative disease that would lead to him seeking a cure that would transform him into ‘the Living Vampire’ as the two unliving ones watched, Natasha’s eyebrow raising as she took it in. “… a living vampire? That is… rather absurd. One cannot be a vampire and alive. It is not how this… works.”

“Its just what he calls himself. His powers are like ours, but he didn’t actually get turned by anyone. I told you, it’s a science thing.” replied Nicu.

“Hmph… nonsense. I cannot fathom mortal fascination with such drivel… it is…” she paused, then looked up, “Nicu, get behind the couch.” she said in a warning tone.

“Huh? Whats wrong?” he asked… then he heard a growling sound.

Lupe had been napping on the rug in her animal form, but now she was standing up and already changing shape into a full werewolf as she stared at the front door.

“That is wrong.” replied Natasha as she rose to her feet.

A second later there was a single knock on the door, then another, then on the third knock a fist punched clean through the wood, splitting the door in half!

“Knock knock…” came a voice from outside as the hand groped around, found the lock, and undid it… then gripped the hole it made and ripped the door right out of its frame.

Standing there, silhouetted against the night, was the barrel-chested man with a face like a cinderblock. “Heard you guys were a real pain in Astaroth’s keister… he wants me to do something about that. Can’t say I like pickin’ on little kids buuuuuuuuuut…” he shrugged dramatically, grinning to show his fangs, “Eh… got nothin’ better to do tonight.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed crimson as she began to channel the power of her blood, and in a blur of yellow fur Lupe tackled him, throwing her entire weight and every ounce of werewolf strength into the charge!

He stumbled back into the yard, but that was all. He didn’t even grunt. “Down pup!” he snapped, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and throwing her back against the porch with a loud pained yelp from the lupine!

“Oughta teach your dog some manners… Natasha I think he said?” he rumbled as she emerged from the house, staring him down.

“Correct. You would be this… Walter? They described a Thomas to me… but you do not look like what they spoke of.” she replied icily as the shadows seemed to darken around her, her eyes flashing dangerously.

“HAH! If I was as scrawny as that little asswipe I’d let the sun burn me up out of shame!” he replied, “Tom thinks he’s hot shit, but he’s our gofer. We just keep him around ‘cause he’s too useful to get rid of. Now c’mon girl. You may be a tiny little thing, but we both know you’re not what ya look like and I came here for a fight!”

“Very well, a fight you shall have.” she hissed, thrusting her arm out, and the shadows surged forward around her, becoming a wall of jagged spikes.

Walter grinned wickedly, holding his arms infront of him to absorb the blow.

Inside the house Nicu fumbled with his phone, the still-young vampire in a bit of a panic. This guy had thrown Lupe around like she was just a rambunctious puppy, and he knew how strong she was! They needed help!

Jaipur India

The rec room in the Barjar Residence had a bar, and Loren was working on drinking most of it. Nelen was beginning to worry about that, debating if it’d be worth trying to cut her off or at least take it to the Wulfshead… but she could likely empty their entire stock and still only be lightly buzzed. Fullmoon warriors were resistant to all poisons, including alcohol. It took a LOT to get her drunk.

“Sooo…” he nodded to her, now wearing jeans, a teeshirt, and his ballcap. “They’re not sure what it was?” he asked.

Loren shrugged, “Aye, lotsa fuckin’ limbs is all we could tell ye. I thought they meant giant bloody spiderbeast at first, but nope. Probably some weird local boogum.”

Nelen nodded, “I’ll ask Rajesh and Arja when I get a chance. They’d probably…” he paused as he looked up to see an annoyed Drusilla standing there in a huge teeshirt and her underwear, her hair all over the place, holding a smartphone between her thumb and forefinger.

“Many-scars… make your damn toy shut up. It woke me up.” she growled, rubbing her large eye with her free hand.

Nelen took it from her and looked at the front, “… shit, its Nicu. I gotta take this.”

He stood up and answered the phone, “Nicu, whats go… WOAH WOAH! Slow down! What the hell is all that noise in the background?” he asked as Loren sat up at the bar, her drink suddenly ignored as Drusilla cocked her head.

“A vampire is attacking… and its one of the four that we heard about?” he asked, “Walter?” he nodded, then his face blanched, “He did WHAT to Lupe?!” he demanded, putting it on speakerphone.

“She tackled him ‘n he just threw her right off into Tara’s porch! Natasha is fighting him now but this guy is tough! Her shadow trick isn’t doing ANYTHING!” came the frantic reply.

Drusilla grinned widely, “Oh I know what that means…” she nodded, then rushed off to their bedroom as Nelen looked at her retreating back.

“Dammit Drus! We can’t just… I mean… someone has to watch Scylla and none of Rajesh’s housekeepers can handle her! I…” he paused, glancing at the barstool next to him as Dawn dove out of the bedroom with a yowl.

“Hey, Loren? How’d you like to earn some quick cash?” he asked.

“… doin’ what?” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Covington Kentucky

Natasha snarled and shot around Walter’s bulk in a burst of speed, the shadows swirling around her as she did. She lashed out again and a massive blade of darkness shot towards him, but he lashed out with his fist and punched it into pieces, his veins pressed out against his skin.

While Natasha’s powers were focused on shadows, his were all about his body. He’d always wanted to be strong, ever since he’d ran with a gang of hoodlums back as a living boy in the late 1800s, when he’d worked as a strikebreaker for the Pinkerton Detective Agency in the 1920s as a young man, and when he’d been found by his sire bleeding out in an alleyway when some workers he’d been sent in to ‘negotiate’ with had been better prepared than he’d expected.

As a mortal he’d broken legs and shattered arms, as one of the undead he could juggle dumpsters and outrun trains (and had, until his sire had patiently explained to him why we don’t do that.) He didn’t care about hiding from the mortals, he just wanted to be strong and use his strength. A fighting junkie to the core, and a bully in the truest sense of the word. He loved finding someone who thought that a righteous cause was as good as armor, then snap them in half like a twig and drain them dry.

“THAT ALL YA GOT?!” he chortled, diving forward in a boxing stance and lashing out with his fist. It was only Natasha’s vampiric agility that kept the blow from connecting, but the sheer force of it was like a cannonball, causing the smaller vampire to spin a bit as it passed her just from that alone! She stumbled in her heels and almost fell, but Walter caught her and dragged her to her feet by the front of her shirt.

“C’mon! Astaroth said you were some powerful elder, even if you do look like a little goddamn kid! Enough with the shadows tiny! Here!” he dropped her on the ground and held his arms out wide, then tapped his chin and leaned in. “Show me what an ‘elder’ like you can do. Gimme yer best shot! C’mon, free hit! Do it!” he laughed, folding his arms behind him and closing his eyes with a sneer.

There are some acts that simply invite certain outcomes, whether they are done in a form of media or in real life. Whenever a large boastful and powerful fighter lets someone take a ‘free hit’ to demoralize them to show just how powerless they truly are, one of three outcomes will likely happen.

One, their opponent will try, wind up hurting their hand, and then wind up getting hurt far worse when they move in for the kill.

Two, they will stand there for a minute or two, then open their eyes to find that their opponent has fled the battlefield entirely.

Or three, they will wind up with their face turned concave by a much more powerful blow than they expected.

Walter felt the blow connect, felt his head snap back, felt his feet leave the ground, and felt the wind underneath him.

He felt confused. Why weren’t his feet on the ground anymore? Why did it feel like he was moving? Was this another shadow trick?

And why did his face hurt so much?

Then he landed with a loud metallic crash in the garbage bins of the house across the street as dogs began barking all up and down the road!

He struggled his way out of the pile of refuse and back to his feet to see three newcomers to the battlefield.

A man stood there wearing a jacket over a teeshirt, bluejeans, a baseball cap, sturdy boots, and glasses. A messenger bag was draped over his shoulders. He had brown hair that was greying in streaks, and a full beard.

To his left stood a young girl with dusky brown skin and a shock of bright red hair, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a sock hat with a long winter coat thrown on over a teeshirt and baggy jeans as well. She was grinning widely, almost too wide… and her teeth seemed oddly sharp for some reason.

To his right however was a woman that stood taller than even Walter himself, cracking her knuckles as she grinned at him. She wore a purple tank top and jeans under a black cloth jacket and was looking right at him.

“Well? Get up, or are you going to just let me punch your face in?” called Drusilla as she stepped out of the yard towards Walter.

“Where the fuck did you come from?!” he demanded, resetting his jaw with an audible click.

Natasha straightened her top, then glanced at Nelen, “That is an excellent question Nelen… do not tell me you left your daughter at Rajesh’s house alone…” she frowned.

“Believe it or not, we found a babysitter.” replied the magus.

Natasha blinked in surprise, “… for Scylla? W-who?!” she asked.

Jaipur India

Loren grinned as she watched TV with her cousin, the little cyclops still in her pajamas. Normally she’d watch cartoons in the morning, but Loren had something she thought Scylla would enjoy even more.

The TV showed a large fighting ring where a huge musclebound man in a white teeshirt and kilt roared into a microphone, flipping off the audience as they jeered at him.

“Alright Scylla, that’s Rowdy Roddy Piper… ‘n he’s a ‘heel.’ That means he’s a bad guy, ‘n we don’t like bad guys aye?” she nodded.

“BOOO! BAD GUY HEEL!” called out the cyclops, making a face at the screen as Loren grinned, then another wrestler came up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder, slamming him down onto the mat. This one had long blonde hair and a large mustache, wearing just a pair of yellow briefs and boots to show off his muscles.

Rowdy Rody Piper struggled to his feet and glared at his opponent, then charged him, but the other one grabbed him, flipped him upside down, and then jumped into the air and slammed him down into the floor of the ring headfirst with his head trapped between his legs.

“Okay, so what Hulk Hogan just did ta ‘im is called a ‘piledriver.’ Can ye say ‘piledriver?’” asked Loren.

“PIL’DWIVUH! PIL’DWIVUH!” cheered Scylla, waving her hands in the air above her head.

“Attagirl!” she nodded.

Nelen wanted her to babysit his daughter… well… fine, but he should have really known better. He’d find out soon enough, and she wasn’t going to complain about some quick cash.

Covington

Drusilla roared loud enough to rattle the windows of the houses nearby as Nelen scratched at his beard, “… Loren, but I’m sure it’ll be okay.” he replied.

Natasha raised her eyebrow at him but shrugged. “I will certainly not complain about the aid. This foe is powerful despite his relative youth.” she frowned, then walked to the porch where Lupe had landed to inspect her werewolf companion. She knew that she was likely not dead, but it was rare for Lupe to not get right back up after a blow…

Out in the street the powerful vampire clashed with the giantkin, Walter using his cursed blood to enhance his muscles to match Drusilla’s inborn cycloptian power… but he was rapidly finding out that this was no ordinary foe!

Drusilla looked human, albeit very large, but that was thanks to a bracelet she wore to hide her inhuman features when among the mundanes. A tall woman was easier to explain away than a one-eyed one, so the enchanted bracelet Nelen had crafted would give her the illusion of having two eyes instead of one.

Walter was the strongest of their little group, even the Rat wouldn’t have been able to match him in outright muscle. Unlike other vampires he didn’t worry about stealth or subterfuge or anything like that. He was a freight train with fangs.

Drusilla, however, was born strong. A cyclops was a force that even the warriors of Clan Fullmoon had trouble dealing with. Walter’s blows hurt her, but she shrugged most of them off and countered with her own that were capable of punching through concrete!

Walter stumbled back after a sudden blow, focusing on his blood to restore the damage that Drusilla’s attack had inflicted on him as he straightened up. “Damn lady! Ain’t ever met a woman who could punch like that!” he laughed, “But I could go all night, think you could?”

“HEY DRUS!” called Nelen, “We should wrap this up! The neighbors probably already called the cops!” he shouted as he tossed his bag to her.

She caught it and sighed, “Fiiiiiiiiiine… can’t have any damn fun…” she grumbled, reaching into the bag and gripping something inside.

Walter looked confused, and even moreso as her hand came out with a massive wooden club with a ring set in the base, the top half covered in wicked metal spikes! It was huge, and way too big to have ever fit in the bag!

She smirked, then reached down to her wrist and hooked a finger under her wristband, pulling it off.

The vampire stared, not sure what to make of this… but suddenly the woman he was fighting wasn’t a woman at all but a huge one-eyed monster! He grinned wildly, bracing himself, then charged at her!

Drusilla smirked, then as soon as he was close she moved with rather surprising speed and brought the club around, smashing it into him!

Walter screamed in pain as the wood struck him, the vampire landing on his side in the snow with smoke coming from where it hit! “WHAT THE FUCK!” he coughed, gripping his side. His skin there was covered in painful blisters, as if it had been burned somehow!

“Custom made big guy!” called Nelen, “With blessed wood!” he added.

The vampire gasped, struggling to his feet. That was bad… he glared at her, then at the other newcomers. He liked a good fight, but this was the vampire equivalent of taking a knife to a gunfight. If the club was blessed, he wouldn’t even be able to touch it!

“Shit…” he spat, then he focused his blood into his legs and leapt into the air, landing in the cab of the truck with his ghouls inside. He slammed the truck’s back with his hand, “GO!” he shouted, and the tires squealed as the truck shot off.

Nelen watched him go as Drusilla put her club back in his bag, then slid her bracelet back on and walked back over to him. “Hmph, coward. Second I pull out a weapon he runs away.” she grumped.

“Blessing the wood makes it holy Drus, holy objects are deadly to vampires, remember?” he pointed out.

“I can confirm this Drusilla.” nodded Natasha as she roused Lupe, the werewolf back in her animal form and looking rather embarrassed that she got taken down so easily. “Walter would have been a fool to fight you with such a weapon.”

Drusilla just shrugged, “Eh… so…” she glanced at the front door of the Smith’s household, or rather where the door should have been. “What’re we gonna do about that?”

“Don’t worry yerselves luv.” said a voice by her ankles.

“Wez got it.” came another.

The group looked down in surprise as a trio of small creatures walked past them. One appeared to be a humanoid frog, another was some sort of gnome-like creature, and the third was quite possibly a domovoi (or something similar.)

“Uh…” he muttered as another one of them walked up to him.

“Good evening, am I correct in assuming you are the magus Nelen Fullmoon?” they asked, bowing low, then looking up at him with a literally foxy smile. “I am Reynard, scout and ally to Prince Samuel of the Icebound Heart. His lordship asked me to notify him if you were to arrive in the city.”

“Yeah that’s me.” he nodded, glancing back at the door as the goblins got to work mending the damage of Walter’s entry, then back at Reynard. “Tell Sam that we’ll met him, Tex, and Stephy around noon-ish. Tara’s house won’t fit all of us, so I need to get us a hotel room.” he nodded.

“Right you are magus.” nodded the fox-like goblin, who turned on his heel and vanished in a swirl of snow.

“Huh, didn’t know Sammi had goblins on his payroll besides that one bartender Stephy told us about…” commented Dawn as she raised her sunglasses, looking at the ones working on the front of the house, the door already almost mended. Goblins worked fast when they were paid well.

“Ain’t gonna complain.” nodded Nelen, looking up as he heard sirens in the distance. “Now as our old friend Shaman says, ‘lets get the fuck outta here before the cops show up.’” he smirked as Dawn grinned and grabbed both him and Drusilla by the arm, then the three of them vanished in a burst of magic.

Natasha sighed as she watched them go, then shrugged and walked back up into the house as the goblins put the finishing touches on the repairs, nodding to them respectfully as they nodded back. “So, Nicu. Shall we continue the performance?” she smirked.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

The Mill Creek Monster

Content Warning: This chapter contains a graphic description of a character's death. Reader discretion is advised.

Jaipur India, late morning

Nelen stood in the middle of the rec room of the Barjar Estate, the magus’s arms folded over his chest. “So that’s what happened according to Tex. Stephy was captured and they rescued him, but during his captivity the vampire who had him let their new Prince’s name slip… and, yeah…” he nodded, glancing away at the wall.

Arja was grinding her teeth, looking down at the floor. This was bad, really bad. Al had come very VERY close to killing them both times they’d encountered him. “… dammit… I mean… I don’t want to not help, but if it’s the middle of winter there…” she grumbled.

Nelen nodded, “Believe me I get it. If I could call for backup from Clan Fullmoon, or hell even get Aisha or Alice, I would… but the way things are now I have no idea when or if Loren will be free, and I know Alice is busy busting her ass.” he replied, sighing.

Dawn let out a low mrowl, the Cheshire sitting on the couch with her tail thrashing. “I mean… I saw that new prince in Dusty’s vision… he sure as hells didn’t act like Al.” she frowned, “But if he’s pulling some sort of scam, I mean he fooled us for years. We know he’s a good actor.” she nodded.

“But why?” asked Simoni, “Why show up again now, and why there?”

Nelen sighed, “Revenge probably. He probably knows our parents live there. Demons can be extremely spiteful… and after the thrashing we gave him, nevermind ruining the plans they had with the Heavenly Host to restore Yahweh and solidify their power again… yeah, he probably figures wrecking our hometown to be good payback, or maybe even wants to use it to try to accomplish what he failed to start in New Orleans.” he nodded.

Simoni whined, “Yeah, a horde of ‘unholy bloodsucking monsters’ getting wiped out by the angels… that’d be pretty close to what he planned for the Hyde.”

Arja growled, looking at her hands. She was a member of the vanara folk and a fire magic user, but it was the middle of winter in Cincinnati. Her powers would be at their weakest there, but if they didn’t go…

“… let me and Simoni go talk to grandpa. Maybe he knows something about how to get around my weakness to cold.” she nodded, “Give us... one week Nelen. Then, ready or not, we’ll go.”

Nelen nodded back, “One week. I’ll work on some prep while you’re busy. We’re up against vampires mostly, so there’s shit I can do there.”

Then the group looked up at the sound of shouting from outside, and several loud thudding sounds.

Nelen sighed, “For fuck’s sake… again?! Girls, stay here. I’m going to go deal with this.” he frowned, heading upstairs to explain, calmly and patiently, why trespassing and taking photos without consent was illegal… and exactly where the line was drawn for how much injury one could inflict before it became ‘too much’ on a trespasser.

He hoped they could find some way to stop these idiots soon.

Sammi’s Apartment, Covington Kentucky, A Few Days Later

Stephy examined his neck in the mirror, then looked at his wrists. Not even any discoloration remained. It had been almost a week since he was liberated from Astaroth’s haven but thanks to Grabkins’ ministrations he was all but healed. He walked out into the bar area of the apartment where Sammi and Tex were waiting, along with Lupe who had curled up on the floor for a short nap, and nodded to them. “Alright, I think I’m good.” grinned the fae princess.

Stephy was dressed for a fight, but in a stealthy sort of way. A white leather skirt going down to his knees, black leggings, and slip on black shoes, with a blue silken sleeveless top under a white leather jacket. The skirt and jacket were sturdy enough to offer some protection (they were crafted from the hide of an Arcadian beast rather than one from the mortal realm) while not getting in the way should he need to transform. His hair was tied back into a secure ponytail as well, and he had something else with him.

He had decided to take a cue from Nelen, and over his shoulder was a small white clutch purse with the inside magically altered to be as big as a car’s trunk. Inside it were several useful tools that Sammi had gathered at the local Goblin Market during his recovery.

The Goblin Market of Cincinnati was quite the sight, though Stephy hadn’t had the chance to go before. In the city proper there was a large public market known as Findlay Market. A popular destination for both tourists and locals that sold locally grown produce and specialty foods… though it was always closed on Mondays.

That was, in part, because Monday evenings, from sunset to sunrise, the goblins came to hawk their wares.

While the mortal market would sell various fruits and veggies, jams and jellies, and other such treats and delicacies, the goblins sold the bounty of the local Hedge in the form of the magical fruits that grew there, as well as any trinkets or esoterica they could pick up and stranger things besides… of which Stephy’s bag now carried several.

It had always been a major failing of their’s that their team did not have anyone versed in healing arts, and their encounter with Astaroth really drove that home, so among the other finds Sammi had acquired were several smaller vials of the same hedge fruit mixture that made up Grabkins’ restoratives. It wouldn’t be as effective as magic, and they would still have to drink them, but it could mean the difference between life and death.

Sammi and Tex were ready for battle as well, the changeling prince in his own white leather tunic, black tights, and knee-high boots with his rapier at his hip and Tex wearing his long sturdy duster coat with the Very Useful Deck tucked into the inside chest pocket.

“So, remember the plan everyone.” nodded Sammi, “We know where the creature makes its haven. Reynard and my other goblins will guard the exits while we go inside and do battle. Our best chance is to force them into the sunlight. If we can manage that, the fight will be effectively over.”

“Easier said than done Sam…” nodded Tex, taking a drink from a can of Dr. Pepper, the can looking extremely out of place in the prince’s apartment. “That thing is strong ‘n fast, we’ll have to be really on our toes even with Lupe’s help.”

“Oh ye of little faith…” tutted Sammi as he finished his own drink, a rather strange cocktail of wine brewed from the same clear grapes Stephy snacked on at lunchtime and the tears of those whose hearts had been broken.

“We’ll handle it Tex. Nelen said he’ll be here in a couple days, but I wanna make sure at least one of those four is dealt with before they realize we’re not really in Texas.” nodded Stephy, putting his hand on the cowboy’s shoulder.

Tex sighed, then smiled at him, “Well, ain’t gonna pretend I don’t wanna give ‘im a bloody nose for what he did to ya’ll darlin’.” he nodded, finishing his drink and standing, then whistling.

Lupe’s head perked up, the werewolf barking as she got to all fours, still in her animal form as the group headed out of the apartment.

“Good huntin’ to yez.” nodded Grabkins as they left, the goblin busying himself with cleaning up.

An Abandoned Paper Mill, Mill Creek Cincinnati, a couple hours later

In the depths of the old mill, in a windowless room, was Clarence the Rat, the Mill Creek Monster.

He lay there in the deep deathly sleep of the day that took the undead when they laid down as the sun rose, but his dreams were fitful. It would be more accurate to say that his memories were. Rather than dreams, most vampires remembered events of their lives and unlives when they rested.

His memories often returned to the day he was turned, seeing the horrible monster that he now knew was his sire emerging from the trunk he had stolen with the rest of his crew of river pirates, remembering how it tore them limb from limb, then turned to him and forced him down, burying its fangs in his neck.

He remembered how everything seemed to slowly go dark, how cold he had felt, how he could hear his heart slowing down as it tried and failed to keep beating… then a taste in his mouth… thicker than any syrup, richer than any wine, and how he wanted it, all of it…

… and then waking up that night and seeing what had become of him.

He hated those memories he hated remembering how weak and terrified he had felt… and now he reveled in bringing that terror to others. Every night he could he drowned those memories in blood, knowing no matter what he would never be human again, or even seen as human.

Suddenly, his eyes opened, and he sniffed at the air.

“… someone come to visit ol’ Clarence?” he hissed, his head rising.

Someone was inside his lair he could feel it. It was still daytime, but it wouldn’t be the first time a would-be vampire slayer had tracked him down.

Slowly, he went on all fours, then began to slink out of the room as his body became invisible once more. There were windows of course, places where the sun could get in, but this was his domain and he knew it better than anyone.

At least he’d have a snack before he went back to bed.

Inside the old mill the group stood ready. Tex had the Very Useful Deck in his hand, ready to draw as soon as their foe showed himself, and Sammi’s blade was already unsheathed.

Stephy had opened his purse and pulled out something himself. A goblin fruit that looked like a large bell pepper, but with black leaves and stem instead of green.

Next to them all was Lupe, the werewolf’s eyes scanning the room… then suddenly the lupine figure arched her back and growled in warning.

“Smelled me did yeh?” came the voice of the Mill Creek Monster… then suddenly they heard rushing footsteps! Stephy spun around and tore the stem off the pepper with his teeth, looking towards where they were coming from.

“COVER YOUR FACES!” he shouted to everyone as he threw it, then quickly ducked down and clamped his hands over his mouth and nose as he shut his eyes tight.

The pepper bounced towards the source of the sound, and after a moment there was a tremendous splattering sound as a huge cloud of raw spice exploded into the air!

Plants from the hedge were odd things. Some had restorative properties, some could be highly toxic, but some could be weapons! The Bellbomb Peppers were one of those, tear the stem off hard enough and it caused the glamour inside to ignite, making a powerful peppery hand grenade!

Clarence shrieked as the spices bit into his eyes, the vampire becoming visible as he clawed at his face. He was undead, but he still needed to be able to see! “AUGH! W-WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” he snarled, trying to clear his vision.

Stephy stood and whistled sharply, a gust of wintery air blasting through the mill and blowing away the remaining cloud as his allies raised their weapons, Lupe letting out a roar as she transformed from an animal into her massive werewolf form. “NOW! WHILE HE’S BLINDED!” he called out.

Lupe snarled and raced forward, her fangs bared as she drew close to the Mill Creek Monster, but Clarence snarled and lashed out with his claws, sending her flying with a yelp!

Tex drew a hand from the deck, then the cards vanished and a crackling ball of lightning appeared in his grasp. “Ain’t seen this in a while…” he nodded, rearing back and throwing it like a fastball towards the vampire.

The lightning shot out of his hand in a flash, and Clarence couldn’t move in time, the bolt hitting home! The vampire screamed in pain as lightning arced across his body, but it didn’t seem to hurt him as much as it would a living foe.

Sammi ducked under him, coating his sword in a sheet of ice, and tried to thrust upwards towards the vampire’s heart as he attempted to freeze it like the one they encountered in the alleyway at the start of all this, but Clarence roared and smacked him to the side, the sword falling from his hands as Sammi went rolling against one of the old rusted machines in the mill, crying out in pain as he slammed into it.

Stephy gasped as he saw him land, then looked at Clarence and let out a loud bird-like cry as the air inside the mill sparkled with frost and became a sudden gale, slamming down into the vampire. It snarled, but while the cold did slow it a little it didn’t have much effect otherwise. He was a living corpse after all, hypothermia wasn’t a threat to him!

The Monster leapt, and Stephy immediately ran to the left, throwing off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he transformed and took to the air, then soared over the Monster’s head. He landed near the far wall of the building, flapping his wings as his talons scratched at the floor. “OVER HERE UGLY!” he shouted.

Clarence hissed, then sneered. “Nice try snack…” he grinned as Stephy hesitated. “Tryin’ to get ol’ Clarence by th’ doors so you can shove ‘im out in th’ sunlight ‘n watch ‘im roast? You think you’re th’ first one to try that?!” he laughed.

Stephy hesitated, that had indeed been his plan! They would lure him by the doors, then Stephy would use his wind magic to blow him outside where the sun would finish him off… but Clarence was almost two hundred years old, this was far from the first attempt to end the legend of the Mill Creek Monster!

Clarence looked around. Sammi was struggling to his feet, his side injured where he’d hit the ancient machinery… but he was still a changeling and likely had some tricks, and the werewolf could match his strength easily… but the other one…

He sneered, then turned towards Tex and charged. “C’MERE SNACK!” he laughed.

Tex gasped as he ran forward, but as he drew close he grinned, then reached into his jacket pocket. Stephy wasn’t the only one who had some goblin tricks! As soon as Clarence was within arm’s reach, he pulled out what looked like a sunflower with glowing petals, then crushed it in his hand. There was a snapping sound and a burst of light erupted from his palm like a flashbulb as the Mill Creek Monster screamed and fell backwards, smoke erupting from his face!

“Gotcha!” laughed Tex as he drew a fresh hand from the Very Useful Deck, getting a revolver that seemed to tremble slightly as if caught in a minor earthquake.

Sunburst Flowers, another goblin fruit that, as the name suggested, exploded in a flash of light when put under pressure. Not just any light, but sunlight! Clarence wouldn’t take Stephy’s bait and go to the sun, so Tex brought the sun to him!

Tex’s revolver cracked off three times, the bullets pounding into the Monster’s midsection as he writhed on the floor, clutching at his face! “We knew you’d go fer me first chance ya’ll got. Two changelings ‘n a werewolf, but I’m th’ only human! Not as easy a target as ya’ll thought eh?”

Clarence roared in fury, clawing his way to his feet. His face was blackened and burnt as if it’d been pressed to a hot stove, his eyes shining with malice as he raised his claws. “K-KILL YOU!” he roared, baring his fangs as he leapt only for Lupe to tackle him in midair and send him crashing to the floor.

The werewolf barked in fury, clawing at him as Clarence snarled and tried to shove her off, but Lupe’s strength was second only to Drusilla’s! The two rolled across the floor of the old mill, snarling at each other in rage, then suddenly a sharp whistle echoed through the building and Lupe jumped back from him, landing on all fours nearby.

Clarence growled and tried to get to his feet, then fell down as he slid on something. “What the…” he looked down, seeing a sheet of ice under him.

Sammi was sitting next to the machine he’d thrown him into, clutching at his side, but grinning mischeviously at the vampire. His hand was pressed to the floor and a trail of frost radiated out from it, freezing the ground under Clarence.

“Wait…” hissed the vampire, looking around, then looking behind him and realizing where he was.

“NOW REYNARD!” shouted the fae prince!

Outside the mill Reynard’s ears twitched. “THERE’S HIS LORDSHIP’S SIGNAL! PULL YE SONS OF MOTHERS!” he cried as the assembled goblins tugged hard on the ropes they’d attached to the large metal delivery doors on the mill’s front, wrenching them open!

Inside Stephy landed next to Sammi, still in his avian form, took a deep breath, and let out a loud raptor-like shriek! The wind howled in response, slamming into Clarence and sending him sliding across the frozen floor!

“NO!” roared Clarence as he tried to dig his claws in, but the floor was totally frictionless! He was moving too fast and he couldn’t gain any footing on the ice! His fingers scrabbled, but the ice had coated everything around him for several feet! There was nothing within reach to grab to stop himself!

Then he hit the snows outside with a thud, tumbling head over heels as Stephy and Sammi both raised their hands, and the ice he’d slid on raised and thickened, freezing over the entrance!

“Scatter!” yelled Reynard as the goblins ran out of the yard and Clarence scrambled to his feet… then he began to feel it.

It was almost noon, on a beautiful cloudless winter day…

Vampirism was a curse. While it offered one the chance to… well, not live forever, but continue forever… there were some major drawbacks. The biggest and most well known of course, being sunlight.

The morning that Natasha received Cernunnos’ blessing, which granted her protection from ‘Sol’s Baleful Glare’ as the spell went, she had almost cried upon seeing the sun without fear for the first time in centuries.

But Clarence had no such protection…

The vampire screamed as his body began to smoke, his skin blackening and cracking as he looked around for any cover, anything, but the yard was huge and empty, surrounded by a high brick wall on all sides. There was nowhere to hide!

“NO! NOT THIS!” he wailed, slamming into the icy barrier as he tried to flee back into the mill. "IT BURNS! IT BUUUUURNS!” he cried as smoke began to rise from his form, the smell of burnt meat filling the air.

He clawed frantically at the barrier, the sun hanging overhead in a clear blue sky, reflected all around him by the snow in the field. He slammed his hand into the ice, and with a snap his arm broke off and crumbled to ashes.

He screamed wordlessly, turning and trying to flee somewhere, anywhere else, but with another snapping sound his knee cracked in half and his left leg crumbled as well!

Clarence fell onto his back, his remaining arm over his eyes as the sun glared down on him like a vengeful deity, his skin blackened and cracked with embers like a stick of charcoal as he whimpered in terror.

“Not this… not poor ol’ Clarence…” he gasped out, his arm cracking away as it scattered on the wind, “… who’ll mourn ol’ misbegotten… Clarence…” he wheezed as his chest caved in, then his face, crumbling into ashes and dust.

Slowly the ice barrier melted away and the group emerged, finding only an empty set of clothes amid a pile of ashes in the snowfield. As the wind blew over them the ashes scattered, not even bones remained. A vampire would leave a skeleton if destroyed by other means, but the sun claimed all. Other than the clothes he wore there was nothing left to show that the Mill Creek Monster had ever been.

“… huh… well that was… uh… gruesome.” muttered Tex, staring at the pile. He wanted to end the Mill Creek Monster’s threat, especially after what had happened to Stephy… but it was one thing to want it, quite another to hear a vampire screaming in terror as it was consumed by sunlight.

“Quite…” nodded Sammi, twirling an empty glass vial in his fingers, one of the restoratives Stephy had brought in his purse. “You always think they’ll just go up like a Roman Candle and that’s that… but its never as quick as you expect.”

Stephy nodded, “Yeah… wow… um… we should probably head back home guys. I don’t think we wanna be in Cincinnati when the other three figure out he’s dead dead.” he pointed out.

“Right.” nodded Sammi.

“Mmhm…” agreed Tex.

“Woof.” commented Lupe, in her animal form once more.

Astaroth’s Backup Haven, 2:00 AM

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘HE’S DEAD?!’” demanded Astaroth into his phone.

“Sorry boss!” came the reply, “We went to the Mill like you said, but it looks like there was a fight here and the Rat ain’t here, but there’s a pile of clothes outside and ash all over the damn place. I mean, what else could it be?”

Astaroth frowned, "Just ashes? No bones?" he asked.

"No bones... not even a tooth... um... so yeah..." the caller trailed off. They both knew what that meant, the only thing that would destroy a vampire's skeleton as well as their body was sunlight... that or maybe something like a blast furnace, but a ruined paper mill wouldn't have that.

The vampiric mage steadied himself, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face firmly, then sighed, “… just… get back here dammit.” he snapped, hanging up and turning around.

Thomas was leaning against the wall, staring at him, “… they got the fuckin’ Monster?” he asked in a disbelieving tone.

“Someone did.” nodded Astaroth. “I don’t know if it was them… my ghouls say they left from CVG four days ago, but they also say that they saw them getting off a bus this afternoon. So they both left Cincinnati and didn’t.”

Thomas looked very worried at this, the younger vampire adjusting his tie, “Yeah, but… the Rat of all damn things… how the fuck…” he swallowed.

“I DON’T DAMN WELL KNOW! They have one of the godsdamned Gentry on their side! Maybe she got him!” he snarled, stalking to a wall and resting his arm against it, then pressing his forehead to his arm and sighing loudly. “Where’s Walter?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Er, last I heard he was up in Price Hill. We got wind that there was a coterie up there who wanted to off the Boss and stick up a new prince who was more like old Archibald, so he’s… sortin’ them out.” replied Thomas.

“Send someone to find him once he’s done having his fun. He loves a good fight. If they really did kill the Mill Creek Monster, he’ll be all over that.” he nodded.

Thomas nodded, “You got it Astaroth…” he replied, quickly making his way out.

Astaroth sighed, glaring at the wall. “This was supposed to be simple. Replace Archie with a puppet, get what we want… but the only one dumb enough to actually try to kill him was this loon who wants to play Vampire Lord…” he grumbled.

While Clarence and Walter reveled in being a monster and a tyrant, Astaroth and Thomas knew better. They knew damn well that they were hidden from the humans for a reason, and that reason was that humans outnumbered them and had access to powerful weaponry. A vampire had to fear pitchforks, torches, and wooden stakes in days of old… but the modern era had automatic weapons, incendiary grenades, and napalm.

“… the must have other help. Two changeling children and a mundane can’t possibly have handled him on their own, and the only one who would have been able to fight with them in the daytime would have been the werewolf I saw…” he nodded, “I’ll have to tell my agents to follow them in the day, see who else is getting involved before this spirals too far out of control.”

Edgewood Kentucky

In the woods behind his house, Dusty hummed to himself and roasted some marshmallows over a campfire, on a stick. Sitting on his shoulder was a squirrel, chittering in his ear. “Well hot damn.” he chuckled, nodding to the furry creature as it nodded back.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

The Devil in the Details

Sammi’s Apartment, a Hollow adjacent to Covington Kentucky

Stephy blinked slowly, surrounded by softness. He heard voices, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He reached up and felt over his throat, hissing in discomfort as he felt bandages under his fingers, then raised his arm shakingly to see his wrists, seeing the same, before letting it fall back down to the mattress with a flop.

He saw something move out of the corner of his eye, then turned to see Grabkins the goblin standing there with a red potion in a glass bottle. He almost started, until he recognized it was a decoction of hedge fruits rather than blood, then nodded and opened his mouth for it.

The goblin pulled out the stopper, holding the bottle so the liquid flowed past Stephy’s lips, and he slowly felt life return to his limbs. It wouldn’t heal him right away, but it would speed things up so that his recovery would take days instead of weeks.

“Glad ta see yer back with us Princess.” nodded the goblin as he let the bottle drain, then took the empty vial away and walked around the corner to where the bar area was. “M’lord. Yer sibling is awake.” he called around the corner.

The voices stopped, then two figures walked into view. Prince Samuel was there in his usual finery, the changeling boy looking satisfied and more than a little relieved (though he was trying not to show how much.) The other one however made no attempt to hide their emotions.

Tex quickly walked to his bedside and knelt down next to it, the young man wrapping his arms tightly around Stephy as he took a deep breath. “Thought we’d lost ya’ll fer a minute there lil’ filly…” he whispered.

“Oh come now Prince Cowboy. Astaroth was clearly intending to use Stephy’s blood for his research, he wasn’t about to kill the goose that lays the golden egg. Still, taking all that blood did you no favors my dear…” chuckled the prince ruefully, sitting on the bed next to Stephy, “You blacked out in the back of Tara’s truck halfway back to Covington… yesterday.”

Stephy coughed weakly. His throat still burned where the iron had touched him. “… did Mom get him?” he asked in a hoarse voice.

Sammi frowned and shook his head. “Mother has her agents scouring the area, but he has gone to ground. A vampire and a mage, he must have had several boltholes prepared in advance. Truly I have rarely seen her so furious. I almost pity Astaroth once she finally catches up to him.” he grinned wickedly at the thought.

Tex released Stephy and straightened up, his hand going to the fae princess’ as he gave it a squeeze. “I sure as heck don’t… after what he did to my Stephy I was ready ta stake th’ fucker myself.” he growled.

Stephy shifted uncomfortably as he felt the raw emotion coming off Tex, Sammi whistling and fanning his face, “Oh my… you may want to turn that down a hair, Stephy’s constitution isn’t what it normally is right now.” he warned.

Tex hesitated, then saw Stephy’s reaction and winced apologetically, taking several deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. In his weakened state Stephy’s changeling nature would try to harvest whatever glamour it could to restore himself, but emotions that ran ‘hot’ like anger wouldn’t exactly be easy to handle right now. Like eating a plateful of spicy food after suffering a stomach virus.

 “Shit… sorry darlin’… I’m okay now… just… when that thing grabbed ya ‘n ran inta th’ sewers…” he shuddered. “I’m alright! I’m alright…”

“… Its okay Tex…” whispered Stephy, his eyes still showing a deep bone-tiredness as he lay there, his voice raspy. “… but… I heard something in his lair… I know the name of the new prince…” he glanced between them.

Sammi raised his eyebrow, “Oho? Do tell my dear…” he nodded, leaning in as Grabkins returned with a fluted glass full of what looked like some sort of champagne for the prince, though the bubbles formed complex patterns in the liquid rather than simply going to the surface.

“That’s great news darlin’… if we know who he was as a human, we might be able ta find somethin’ to use against him!” grinned Tex.

Stephy shook his head weakly, “… guys… he might not have been human… Astaroth said his name was… ‘Al…’” he gasped out.

There was a tinkle of glass and a splash as the champagne glass fell to the floor from Sammi’s suddenly numb hands, the princeling’s eyes wide as Tex’s eyebrows rose so high they threatened to vanish into his hairline.

Tex and Sammi shared a look, then Sammi nodded, “Go home, wake Natasha and Nicu, and call Nelen. NOW. Grabkins and I will tend to Stephy’s wounds.”

Tex nodded, then gave Stephy’s hand a squeeze and leaned in, kissing his forehead. “I’ll be back as soon as I can darlin’.” he whispered, then he jumped up and ran to the door, throwing on his coat before disappearing out into the snow. He wanted to stay by Stephy’s side badly, but there was only one Al they knew of who could cause chaos on a city-wide scale like this…

About an hour later, Jaipur India

Nelen had his phone pressed to his ear, the mage still in just his pajama bottoms. It had been nighttime on that side of the globe, and he had been in bed. He was annoyed to be woken up, but as soon as he heard that name, he was wide awake!

“Tex, you’re CERTAIN that he heard this guy call the new prince that?!” he demanded, “From what you said Stephy was really out of it, he might have heard wrong…” he warned.

“Dammit Nelen I know mah filly wouldn’t say it unless he was sure!’” came Tex’s voice from the other end.

Nelen scowled, his palms beginning to itch where Merihim’s old scars were. He knew that it was likely he could have escaped the Wild Hunt, or at least survived the attack to some level. Even if they did kill him they wouldn’t have ‘killed’ him, just destroyed his corporeal form and sent him back to Hell. He always knew, deep down, that he wasn’t finished dealing with his demons yet.

Nelen scowled, then glanced towards Arja and Simoni’s room. “Look, I’ll have to convince Arja to come. If I come without her then the first damn stalker who shows up is going to get char broiled and as much as I would REALLY love to see that…” he took a deep breath and sighed, “… it still counts as murder.”

As he said this he became aware of something near his legs. He looked down to see a small girl with long black hair and one huge green eye looking up at him, the child wearing a purple cotton pajama set. She looked like she could be about three or four years old, though in truth she was only one year so far. ‘They grew up so fast’ wasn’t a metaphor with her species it seemed. They likely had to grow up fast to survive in the old days and it just never changed for their biology.

“Poppa?” asked Scylla sleepily, rubbing her eye, “Why yellin’?”

“Hang on Tex, gotta be a dad.” he said, then Nelen knelt down and put his hand on her head, stroking through her hair. “Grown up stuff kiddo, go on back to bed or your mom will give us both a smack. Don’t worry, dad’s got this.” he nodded with a smile to his daughter, then looked around and saw a pair of eyes in the corner watching them. “Hey Midnight, can you keep Scylla company until she falls back asleep?” he asked.

The eyes vanished, and then a Cheshire kitten with all black fur appeared sitting atop Scylla’s head, cocking its own head at him, then nodding. Unlike Dawn and the rest of her siblings, Midnight rarely talked and was easily the best at turning invisible on demand out of the others. Scylla giggled at the kitten, then picked her off her head and held her in her arms as she nodded at her father, then walked off back to her bedroom.

Nelen smiled. Scylla was a literal monster to raise, half-human and half-cyclops but with a Fullmoon’s genetics. They didn’t know if she was going to wind up like Simoni or Loren yet, she was still very young, but even if she didn’t inherit the physical prowess of the Clan she had her mother’s muscle… and yet there was never a time she treated the Cheshires with anything but the utmost of care and gentleness despite her ability to already punch holes in walls without trying.

… then he stopped smiling as he remembered what had almost happened to her, and what his haste and desperation to contain Merihim nearly caused. He put the phone back to his ear, “I’ll be there. Might not be for a couple days, but I’ll get Arja to come if I have to drag her by the scruff of her godsdamn neck. If this is Al then we need to shut him down, hard.”

Sammi’s Apartment, the Next Day

Stephy was sitting up in bed now, still looking weak but doing better than he had been. While his life hadn’t been in any danger Astaroth had taken a lot of his blood and the iron burns were certainly not helping matters.

Sammi had to return to Arcadia to obtain the incense burners that had been used to restore him when they discovered his unusual condition. Sammi was not like normal changelings. Most were taken by the Gentry as adults, or at least older children, but Sammi was snatched right out of his cradle as an infant.

Growing up in Arcadia made him more powerful and knowledgeable than the average changeling, but it came with a price. Having lived there so long, his body was now dependent on the glamour of the realm to stay alive. He could manage time in the mortal realm as long as he had a steady source of glamour and access to his apartment, which existed partially inside the confines of the Hedge, but he would have to regularly return to Arcadia or risk losing his powers, and eventually his life.

Sammi was well over a century old now, as far as he could tell, and his unnatural youth required the magic of Arcadia to keep going.

The incense burners were set on either side of the bed Stephy occupied, a sparkling blue smoke drifting lazily up from them. The smoke smelled of pine and spruce, and of something he couldn’t quite place… a nostalgic smell that smelled different to everyone and spoke of precious things lost and the memories they left behind.

Stephy took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, the bags under his eyes had shrunk from before and the bandages had been removed from his wrists and neck, though the skin there was still noticeably red. “So, you got through to Nelen?” he asked Tex.

The cowboy nodded, “Yeah, as soon as I told him that it could be Al he was all in. He says he gotta get Arja out here too so it might take a few days to convince her, but he ain’t gonna leave this one lie.”

Stephy nodded, “Good… that’s good…” he sighed, “Because we’re going to need him. Both Astaroth and the Monster got away, and they know who and what we are.”

Tex sighed, “Yeah… but… we’ve got a few backup plans. Mom is heading back to Texas now.” he nodded as Stephy looked up at him quizzically.

Tex grinned, “She knows she can’t stay with all this shit goin’ on, especially now that th’ vampires know where we live. She’s called into th’ school citing a family emergency and is flyin’ back out to Grandad’s ranch today, ‘n ‘we’ll’ be going with her.” he nodded.

They looked up at the sound of footsteps to see Sammi walking into view, the fae princeling wearing an elegant blue dressing gown and holding a glass of something probably quite alcoholic, and possibly hallucinogenic. “The ‘you’ that are going with her are two of my goblins, glamoured to look like yourselves. Meanwhile, you two will in truth stay here so we can prepare our own battle plans.”

“Mom ain’t happy ‘bout leavin’ me behind… but… well she knows damn well I ain’t gonna abandon ya’ll.” nodded Tex, giving Stephy’s hand a squeeze, “But she’s got nothin’ of her own ta fight with besides a pistol, ‘n those vampires can dodge bullets.”

Stephy nodded at that, the princess settling back into the pillows as he took another deep breath of the glamour infused incense, feeling a tingle of power going up and down his limbs. It wouldn’t be much, but the idea was that it would restore him gradually as his body recovered enough to allow it.

“Speaking of, we need to deal with those four that are either pulling the Prince’s strings or believe they are while Al manipulates them…” nodded Sammi as he sat down at the foot of the bed. “Astaroth is not an option for us yet. If mother’s agents cannot find him I daresay we’ll not be able to, and Thomas and Walter could be anywhere… nevermind that we don’t even know what Walter looks like… which leaves…”

Stephy winced, “The Mill Creek Monster…” he nodded. He was not looking forward to fighting that thing again.

“Quite… that one however, I was able to track down…” grinned Sammi, “My goblin Reynard was quite eager to redeem himself after showing up here battered and bloody, so he led a scouting party to this Mill Creek and…” he chuckled, “While he certainly had some comments to make about the smell, they are reasonably certain they have located where his haven lies.”

Stephy sat up at this, then winced and leaned back again, “Really?” he asked.

Sammi nodded, “Oh yes. Reynard is an expert tracker, and whats more… there were no guards. No ghouls or anything. Perhaps a creature like him does not want them, or perhaps he can’t find any potential recruits that won’t just run away screaming.”

Tex nodded, “So… what’ll we do?” he asked.

Sammi leaned back and took a drink from his glass, shivering a bit at the heady concoction as it went down his throat. “Mmnn… well… Natasha and Nicu will mind your home for now… but while they wished to assist, I suggested that we make a go of it with just Lupe by our sides. Now that we know where he makes his lair, we can strike him at a time of our choosing…” he grinned, “… namely, daytime.”

Tex grinned back, “I getcha… stake th’ vampire while he’s nappin’!” he nodded.

Sammi chuckled, “Correct. If the vampires are watching us, and we have to assume they are, they’ll see Tara leaving town and ‘both of you’ going with her. This will get their guard down. They’ll believe you are fleeing rather than face them.” he nodded, turning to look at Stephy, “That gives us time for your recovery from what Astaroth did to you. Once you’re at full strength again, we make for Mill Creek and sort out our rodent problem.” he grinned.

Cincinnati Ohio, a hidden basement beneath the Hilton Cincinnati Hotel, that night

Astaroth paced the room, grumbling under his breath. Not only was his main haven compromised, but he had also lost all his tools of research and most of his sire’s stockpile of blood. His backup haven under the Hilton had really been meant to be more for when he couldn’t make it back to Ft. Mitchell before sunrise, but he hadn’t expected to need it to become his main hideaway.

There had been a couple mirrors hanging in the haven. He had taken a hammer to them as soon as he’d arrived and melted the shards. Unlike the legends, vampires could see their reflections by and large and it helped to sort out a knot on a necktie... though some couldn't. Natasha couldn't due to her own shadow manipulation powers causing light to behave oddly with her (she also couldn't show up on cameras either, or at least not well.)

“Blast it all… a changeling whose keeper came to their rescue? I’ve never heard of such a thing! Normally the idea of seeing that creature again terrifies them.” he scowled, compulsively touching his pendant. “A mortal enemy I could wait out, go into torpor if I must… but an immortal faerie?” he sighed, “Well, if nothing else, my ghouls can at least gather as much raw iron as they can, and one of them works for that machine shop on Steger. They should at least get me SOMEthing…” he nodded to himself.

He sighed, then gasped as he felt a chill breeze, his head snapping around until he saw the vent in the wall. The heating system for the hotel had kicked on, but it wasn’t producing warm air yet. Astaroth frowned, gripping his pendant. He hoped his agents had gotten word to Walter. They may need his strength soon.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Inhuman Academia

This story contains a depiction of captivity and torture. Blood plays a heavy theme. Reader discretion is advised.

Clarence… be reasonable… so useful…

Mine! … caught this one… MINE!

Now now… what if…

There… finally… get them into the trunk, now…

Slowly, Stephy awoke, his head spinning. He remembered being attacked, then a feeling like he was grabbed before it all went black… and now…

“Ah, back with us are you?” came a man’s voice.

He opened his eyes, coughing a bit, “Where…” he tried to move, then gasped as a hissing sound came from around his throat and wrists.

“Mmm… best try not to do that… We had to take certain measures for my safety. Can’t have you using any of your faerie tricks now can we?” the voice said.

The world swam into shape in Stephy’s vision, he was in what looked like a very very old stone room, and all around him were holes in the walls just big enough for a human body. The floor and walls were old stone brick, as was the ceiling, though it was lit by electric lights… and all around him were various tools and esoterica. Books, journals, crystals, vials and bottles of something red and thick… and as he woke more he realized what it must be.

Blood, they were bottles of blood. He whimpered, struggling again, but again the pain and the hissing sound came until he ceased. He was restrained by the wrists and neck, held down to a wooden surface. He couldn’t move at all!

“Must still be a bit out of it to try that again. Clarence was likely not gentle.” spoke the voice as a man walked into view. “When I got more details out of our men I realized what you must be, and I simply had to have you.” he nodded. He was a mature man wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses with wavy auburn hair, dressed in a black dress shirt with a blood red tie, red pants held up by matching suspenders, and black dress shoes. A pendant hung over his tie.

Stephy whimpered, trying to call upon his power, but he couldn’t feel it! His magic was somehow shut off, as if blocked off from him!

The man tutted, “Its your restraints, cold iron. It’s a pity they must harm you as well, but so be it. I’d rather keep you as intact as possible…” he nodded.

Stephy recognized him though, he’d seen him in the fiery vision at Dusty’s house. “… Astaroth…” he croaked out.

The man paused, looking up at him, “Well well, you have the advantage of me then.” he chuckled, “Not my birth name of course, I mean what mother would name their child after a duke of Hell, but hiding one’s true name is necessary in my profession.”

He walked over to a wall, taking out a syringe and a plastic medical vial, preparing to use them on his captive. “I am, what you might call, a practical blood magician. We vampires use it of course, but there’s so much more that we can do with the blood beyond just using it to break things or frighten humans, don’t you agree?” he looked to Stephy, who was eyeing the needle fearfully.

“Oh now chin up, I have no desire to kill you if I can avoid it. You’re far too valuable. Behave yourself and you may even learn something.” he smiled, walking forward, “But… I will need a few samples. You will live, but I can’t promise you’ll enjoy this.” he nodded, tapping Stephy’s arm at the elbow joint until he saw the veins, then he aimed the needle and Stephy let out a yelp as it entered, the vial rapidly filling up.

“Hmm… silver? Interesting… I didn’t expect it to be silver. I’d have to assume that humans would just see red like they would for anyone else…” he mused, “Well, couple of these and we can get right to work.” he nodded, “Maybe a few more. Always best to have extras.”

Stephy gasped as the full vial was removed, then replaced with an empty one as it began to fill as well. By the third he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

“You are lucky I got to you first you know. Walter and Thomas… well… they’re not as openminded as I am. Likely would have just treated you like a fresh bottle of beer and tossed you in the gutter as such... and our lovely new Prince…” he chuckled, “Well, Al is very much not a fan of your type… but… we don’t have to tell him what I found under that pretty little dress, do we?” he winked.

Stephy grimaced, the vampire adding, “Oh not like that! I had to examine you before we began. Proper medical examination, nothing suspicious! One does not often get to work with a changeling after all. For all I knew I’d find flowers down there.” he smirked, “Besides, I’ve been one of the undead for nigh on a century now… I haven’t been in that sort of mood since before you were born young lady.”

That wasn’t why he grimaced though. Al… the new prince’s name was Al?!

He remembered an Al. He remembered who they had fought that day in New Orleans. He remembered Dawn telling him that they ‘traded their forms like baseball cards.’ Just because he looked different now didn’t mean it wasn’t him.

The last time he’d seen an Al, he had almost had his heart cut out… and that Al was VERY much not a fan of his ‘type.’

He had to escape now, he had to tell Nelen! The vampires were acting as if they were the power behind the throne, but what if the true mastermind was playing dumb?

What if this ‘Al,’ they were following was Agaliarept in disguise?!

Cincinnati, early afternoon

The group walked through the city, Lupe in the lead as she sniffed at the air. It was daytime, but after a year of having Cernunnos’ blessing Natasha was doing much better. The vampire was still having a somewhat difficult time during the day, not able to call upon any of her vampiric powers or abilities while the sun was up, but she was no longer confined to a wheelchair.

She walked along with them, using a cane with an solid steel handle shaped like a stylized bat, still almost brand new. Nelen had gotten it for her as a Hannukah gift and, like Alice’s cane, it held a hidden surprise for anyone who attempted to attack her. She didn’t often need such a tool, but if a fight got face to face it could come in very handy.

It also made things much easier when it came to Lupe. If questioned about her lupine companion, Natasha had an excuse now. She was handicapped and had trouble walking, so Lupe was her service dog!

It helped that Lupe seemed to like wearing the jacket.

However, things were not going well. They got as close to Mill Creek as they dared… and yet…

Lupe looked back at Natasha, then whined and shook her head.

“Still nothing? Could they be hiding their scent somehow?” she wondered.

“I’ve never heard of a vampire doing that…” commented Sammi, the fae princeling’s hand resting on his rapier. He wore the same leather ensemble from last night, the armor hidden from mortal eyes as a pair of leather pants and a jacket.

“Dammit… Lupe c’mon girl! Stephy needs us!” insisted Tex, the cowboy’s frame hidden under a heavy leather duster jacket, tied tight against the winter chill.

Lupe barked at him, nodding in response as Natasha put a hand to his shoulder. “My darling Lupe understands your concerns John… but she cannot smell him.”

As she said this, Tex’s phone suddenly buzzed. The boy reached into his pocket, “Shit, that might be mom. She said she’d try to raise Loren.” he nodded. Loren hadn’t answered last night, owing to being near Calcutta dealing with… well… they weren’t sure what it was, but it probably shouldn’t have had that many legs. It had a lot less now though.

The number wasn’t Tara’s however… it wasn’t in his contacts, just showing a local area code.

Tex glanced around, then answered it, “Hello?” he tried.

“Ya’ll’re lookin’ in th’ wrong spot.” said a familiar voice.

Tex started, “Hey, you’re Dusty ain’tcha? How’d ya’ll get my number?!”

“Called Nelen, he gave it. But yah, ya’ll’re lookin’ in th’ wrong spot.” he said again.

Tex looked at Natasha and Sammi, then put the call on speaker. “Okay, everyone can hear you. How do you know?” he asked.

“Squirrels told me. Ya’ll’re up by Mill Creek ain’tcha? Monster got stopped on th’ way back last night, they did a trade. Stephy is in Ft. Mitchell. There’s a big graveyard there, across from a Kroger’s. He’s under it, hidden base for one of ‘em.” replied the eccentric mage.

“Squirrels?” asked Natasha, raising her eyebrow quizzically.

“… don’t ask.” replied Tex, “Ya’ll sure on this Dusty?”

There was a chuckle from the phone, “Take that puppy over there ‘n call me a liar.” he replied, then the line went dead.

Tex glanced between the others, “Well, we don’t got any better leads…” he shrugged.

Ft. Mitchell Kentucky, Sunset

It was actually three cemeteries technically. St. Mary’s, Highland, and a small plot known only as ‘Steven’s Grave’ (which Tex was trying VERY hard not to think about,) though in this case Steven’s Grave was the name of a pet cemetery.

It was also quite big, which is likely why it was easy for him to hide.

Astaroth valued his privacy, and while the city was a fun place to visit he certainly didn’t want to live there. Thus his haven was tucked neatly away under the local boneyards, accessible only via hidden doors built into a handful of mausoleums.

He walked out of his quarters that evening looking quite cheerful, the vampire dressed in a white dress shirt, long black slacks, and a red tie with his pendant hanging in place as it often was. “Good evening, did we have a nice nap?” he asked, leaning in with his hands behind his back and a smile on his face as if he were a doctor asking after the comfort of his patient.

Stephy didn’t reply with anything other than a frown and a glare. His eyes had deep bags under them and his face looked unhealthy. Astaroth had taken quite a bit of blood, not enough to kill him but definitely enough to seriously inconvenience him.

“I do hope it wasn’t too uncouth of me to sample the goods last night, but I really couldn’t help myself. I swear changeling blood is marvelous! I think I actually dreamed today, thought of when I first read about Crowley back when I was but a child…” he smiled wistfully, “Ah, old Alastor Crowley… he’s the reason I was so interested in the occult to begin with you know.” he grinned. “Made me the man I am today, set me on the path to meet with my sire. This was his old haven. He’s gone now, ran afoul of a local werewolf pack one night, but he was a marvelous man and a scholar as well… oh how I wish he was here to see this…” he grinned widely.

“… do you ever shut up…” croaked Stephy, sounding exhausted. He hadn’t slept at all. He was shackled in place with cold iron on a hard wooden table. He had blacked out for a bit after all the blood that Astaroth had taken, but it wasn’t sleep.

The vampire paused, then sighed, “… and here I was trying to be personable… I suppose you’re just going to be cranky after yesterday.” he shrugged, then went to a nearby table, “Now… lets begin… hmm…” he mused as he poured one of the vials into a bowl, then set it in a circle and began to work, taking a small pinch of some powder, then stirring it together. “First we need to determine exactly what about your blood makes it so unique from a human’s, and from there we can determine what it can be used for…”

Stephy slumped in the restraints behind him, too tired to do anything else. Weakened as he was by lack of rest and loss of blood, he could only hope that the others could find him… but he didn’t even know where he was and cut off as he was from his glamour he couldn’t even try anything to free himself or call for help.

Aboveground however…

A bus squeaked to a halt outside of the Kroger’s as two teenagers, a young girl, and a large dog exited. “Number 1, Covington Transit Center to Mall Road Florence.” said a mechanical voice from the speakers on the bus as several people got on from the stop itself, then the doors closed with a hiss as it drove off towards its destination.

They watched it go, then Natasha nodded to Lupe. The werewolf sniffed at the air, then suddenly her ears perked up as she looked across the street and barked loudly.

“She smells him… Stephy is here!” gasped the vampire, sounding genuinely surprised. “He said… squirrels told him this?” she asked Tex in an incredulous tone.

Tex shrugged, “Apparently, he can talk to squirrels. He can also see th’ future by eatin’ pepper seeds ‘n throwin’ up a fireball. I dunno!”

Natasha nodded as she followed Lupe as quick as she could. The sun was still visible on the horizon though so she wasn’t able to move as fast as normal. “Nelen has the most unusual friends…” she murmured.

“Yes, I had my doubts about the hedge mage as well Natasha, but he does seem to have his uses.” nodded Sammi as the group made their way across the street to the graveyard, following Lupe as she wandered through the rows of tombstones after Stephy’s scent.

They had left Nicu at Tex’s house when they set out. They wanted him to stay behind to call for help if they didn’t check in and he was easily the most inexperienced of them at this point. Natasha had done what she could to teach him how to fight over the past year, but mastering the power granted by the curse of vampirism could take entire lifetimes.

Eventually their path led to an ancient stone masoleum, the name carved into it so many decades ago that it had been worn into illegibility. Lupe stopped, then whined and clawed at the entrance.

“In there?” asked Tex.

Lupe barked, nodding.

“Alright…” he nodded back, then shuffled his deck and in a flash he had the lightning revolver once more. “Seems like I keep gettin’ this one… ain’t gonna complain!” he grinned, taking aim at the lock on the door.

Downstairs Astaroth glanced up, hearing a loud banging sound. “Hm? Sounded like someone’s car backfired upstairs or something…”

Stephy glanced up as well, barely able to keep his eyes open… then he grinned weakly as he heard a loud crash from above.

Astaroth frowned, turning from his table and taking hold of his talisman as he moved to face the tunnel leading out of the room… and the shadows rushed forward to greet him. He spoke a word in some long-forgotten language and three of the bottles of blood nearby shattered, forming a huge shield of clotted blood before him!

The shadows slammed into it, but the barrier held, the vampire smirking to himself… until he felt a cold breeze. He looked to his left to see a trail of ice along the floor… and then Prince Samuel came skating along it, his arm around the waist of Tex as he took aim with his revolver.

Astaroth swore, ducking down as the gun rang out twice, twin bursts of electricity coming from the walls as Sammi released him and leapt forward, thrusting out with his sword! Astaroth jumped back and gasped as it bit into his midsection, cutting open his shirt and severing his suspenders as he stumbled backwards. “AUGH!” he gasped, blood seeping out of his middle as he looked up to see Natasha, Sammi, and Tex standing between him and his prize… and then he saw Natasha whistle.

A loud angry growl came from the tunnel, and a wall of muscle and fur burst forth from it. “LUPE KILL!” snarled the werewolf as she charged towards Astaroth, then leaping and aiming her jaws at his throat!

The vampire grimaced. Nelen had once commented that vampires and werewolves were natural enemies, and it was worth mentioning that your average werewolf was usually FAR stronger than a vampire in a direct fight! The Mill Creek Monster was an exception to this, but Astaroth most certainly wasn’t! He cried out and dove to the side as Lupe soared over him, her claws missing him by inches as she slammed into a display cabinet behind him, the vials inside shattering and spilling their crimson contents all over her.

Astaroth glared at her in fury, “Do you have ANY idea how valuable those were?! The vintage of them, bigods!” he snarled, taking hold of his pendant again and speaking another strange phrase, and the blood soaking Lupe’s fur suddenly clotted into massive, hardened clumps! The werewolf struggled, but her movements were severely hampered now! She growled and Astaroth sneered, but then he heard the click of a gun behind him.

“Let Stephy go Dracula. I ain’t askin’ twice.” growled Tex in a warning tone.

Astaroth looked back over his shoulder, “I think not.” he replied, then he gestured with one hand.

Tex and Sammi cried out suddenly, their veins pressing out against their skin as they fell to their knees, the gun clattering to the floor before transforming back into a handful of playing cards.

Astaroth turned to face Natasha, the blood sorcerer holding his pendant in one hand. “A vampire siding with the mortals, and one I don’t recognize. You must be the one Clarence was talking about. Who are you?” he asked.

Natasha glared at him, twisting the handle on her cane, and drawing a long thin sword from it. “You speak to Natasha Kernovich, Scion of Lord Dimitri Renault, the Butcher of Cluj. Now, release your captive and begone child.”

He looked her over, but he could tell she was far more than she seemed. She looked like a small child yes, but he could feel how ancient she was. He stepped slowly back… then in a quick motion he spun, grabbed a bloodied dagger from a table, and thrust out with it. As one the vials of blood in the room began to shatter as the blood erupted from within them, forming into darts in midair and aiming towards Natasha!

She swore, then gestured with one hand and the shadows rose before her and the others to block them, but Astaroth had been stockpiling for decades, and his sire long before that! He had blood to spare!

Sammi gasped, pushing himself up as he tried to focus. It felt like his veins were going to burst. “Lupe!” he called out, “Stephy’s restraints! Break them!”

Lupe growled, then slammed into Astaroth from behind and stumbled towards Stephy as quickly as the clotted blood holding her would allow, her powerful clawed hands gripping the wrist cuffs and ripping them free in a single tug. The metal broke with a snap as the werewolf reached for the captive fae’s neck, tearing the collar free as Stephy fell to the floor, gasping for breath, his body reddened where the iron had burned him.

Tex managed to look up, “G-good job girl, but… we gotta get out…” he coughed, his heart feeling like someone was trying to squeeze it as hard as they could!

Sammi grinned, “Don’t worry… there’s no way she’ll miss this… just… had to get rid of that iron…” he chuckled.

Tex looked at him, “Who?” he asked.

Sammi smiled, a rather nasty smile indeed, “After my episode following Franklin’s attack on that temple in India, and all the destruction Indrajit caused, she made sure to work a magick on both of us to tell her if we were mortally injured… and given the state my poor sibling is in…” he looked up as he felt something, “Ah… THERE she is…”

Tex looked up as well, then his eyes widened.

The walls of the room were frosting over, the temperature dropping like a rock!

Astaroth didn’t notice it at first, being a vampire he wasn’t very sensitive to temperatures… but after a moment he looked around and hesitated. The walls were coated in ice now, the vials of blood still unbroken beginning to freeze, and suddenly a furious voice echoed through the room.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?!

The world seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then, standing between Astaroth and Natasha, was a tall blonde haired woman in a long gown as white as snow, in a very literal sense. She seemed to radiate cold, her hair flowing behind her as if in an unseen breeze, and she was looking at Astaroth with utter hatred in her eyes. Standing there, before the vampire, was Lady Sera of the Icebound Heart in all her otherworldly glory.

Astaroth stumbled back, his dagger held ready as his other hand clutched at his pendant, but this was no changeling! Lady Sera was a full-fledged faerie, one of the Gentry of Arcadia!

“Their blood stolen, their flesh burned with iron… Wretched LEECH…” she snarled, striding forward as the air around her sparkled with frost, her face showing a cold fury in the most literal sense possible as she held her hands up like claws, ice and snow swirling around her before she thrust a hand outwards, and a volley of ice spears soared towards the vampiric magus!

Astaroth gestured and the blood around him formed a new shield, but he knew he was outgunned now! A werewolf was bad enough, but one of the True Fae as well?! He hissed, then stepped back and pressed on a brick on the wall behind him, and the wall spun around in a fast circle, slamming shut with him on the other side!

“He’s gettin’ away!” shouted Tex, gasping as he was suddenly able to breathe again, clutching at his chest as he stood up and began to shuffle his deck rapidly to conjure a new weapon, but Lady Sera held out a hand.

“Stay with my daughter, all of you.” she nodded and vanished in a swirl of ice and snow.

Aboveground Astaroth was running through the snow towards where he had a car hidden. He had to get the hell back across the river or else he was done for! “Blast it all… Where’s Walter and the Rat when I need them?!” he snarled as he made it to the car’s hiding spot. It wasn’t a fancy car, or a very distinct one, just a Ford Taurus like one you’d see anywhere else. A reliable model that everyone had… which was the entire point. Nobody would look twice at it!

He got inside and started the car, then pulled out of the hiding spot and aimed it towards the street… only to see the air infront of him swirl with frost and snow. “DAMN!” he swore, gunning the engine. He’d modified it in some subtle ways, and so what if a few tombstones got in the way?

He raced through the sudden storm, barely seeing the gates of the cemetery as he passed through them and hit the road outside, turning sharply amid a cacophony of car horns as he made for the interstate. If he got there he was as good as home free!

As he hit the onramp, however, the car suddenly swerved, the ground under him frozen in a sheet of ice! He gripped the wheel tightly and slammed the brakes, but the road had become totally frictionless! He gritted his teeth, trying to regain control as it spun out, narrowly missing a semi truck whose horn echoed across the highway, the car slamming headlong into the dividing wall.

He shook himself, sitting up as the stars went away… then he looked in the rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind him… only to see a pair of pure black eyes glaring back out of a bone-white face, their teeth like fangs made of ice.

“SHIT!” he shouted, diving out of the car as Lady Sera crashed her way through the rearview mirror, the plastic frame seeming to distort to allow her passage.

“BE STILL LEECH!” she commanded emerging from the car and gliding towards him across the snow, her fury transforming her from a haughty fae queen into a manifestation of winter’s wrath as she advanced.

Astaroth looked around frantically, then grinned and reached down, scooping up a handful of the slush lining the road, then throwing it hard into her face.

Sera didn’t bother to dodge. It was just slush and snow, a desperate attack by a desperate vampire…

Suddenly she cried out in pain and fury, clutching at her face! The slush was sliding off, but it seemed to be taking her skin and muscle with it! She was melting!

“RRRRRRAGH! BLAST YOU! DAMN YOU! IT BURNS!” she screamed as Astaroth grinned, then focused and with a burst of speed he leapt atop another semi as it drove past, sitting on the roof and giving her a cheery wave as it vanished into the distance.

She was a fae of ice and snow, but she clearly didn’t know about how mortals dealt with such things, at least as far as roads were concerned. The slush on the sides of the road was full of rock salt, used to melt the snow and ice covering the streets!

Sera cleared the last of the salt and mended her face, looking back at where he’d been, then scowled and vanished in a swirl of snow, reappearing outside of his evacuated haven as the others made their way outside, Tex and Sammi carrying Stephy between them.

“Poor child…” she whispered, “Abused so… do you not wish me to make the pain stop? To make it all stop?” she asked, leaning in.

Stephy looked at her, then held up one hand weakly, his fingers laced around Tex’s, and shook his head. “Not… the way… you would do it…”

She hissed and leaned away, as if suddenly near a burning bonfire, then looked to the other one holding him up. “You have somewhere safe to take them?” she asked Sammi.

The princeling nodded, “He will be cared for. You have my word Mother.” he replied.

She sighed, then gave a single nod, “I am satisfied then. Fare you well children. I must find where that leech fled to. He has dared to harm what is mine, he will suffer.” she snarled, then vanished in a swirl of ice and snow.

The group looked between themselves, then Tex took out his phone and dialed his mother’s number, putting it to his ear, “Hey mom? Um… we found Stephy, but… we kinda need a ride.” he chuckled awkwardly.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Urban Legend

Jaipur India, Late Evening

“I have their arms!” shouted Nelen as he held a struggling figure as hard as he could in a Full Nelson.

“Don’t let go! They’re ready to kill this time!” shouted Simoni as she stood infront of them, her arms outstretched as wind swirled around her hands.

“LEMME GO NELEN! I’M GONNA ROAST THIS ONE! HE’S GONNA BE CHARCOAL WHEN I’M DONE WITH HIM!” roared his captive, already in her vanara form.

Arja was NOT a happy girl, the letters had been amusing and maybe a bit flattering at first (some of them were genuine fan mail and even letters of thanks for saving Sri Lanka from Ravana and Indrajit) but those ones had died off quickly and now it was all creepers all the way down… and unfortunately when you have a father in politics you also have an easily Google-able address.

Several of Rajesh’s security team had a man on the ground, his arms behind him. He was dressed in nondescript clothes and had a head of shaggy wild hair that suggested he hadn’t washed in a while, and a high-powered camera. “ARJA I LOVE YOU!” he cried out, “C’mon baby! Show me those monkey tits!”

Arja shrieked in fury as flames flickered around her fangs, Nelen snarling at the man, “SHUT UP YOU FUCKING NUTJOB! ARE YOU TRYING TO PISS HER OFF?!”

One of the security men walked over to Nelen, making sure to keep away from Arja’s front, with the intruder’s wallet. “His ID says he’s from… somewhere called Dubois?” he tried. The man could speak and read English fairly well, but he’d never been outside of India before.

“Whats the two letters after it?” asked Nelen as he held the struggling vanara as tightly as he could, using all his inborn Fullmoon muscle to keep her from breaking free.

“… um… It says ‘ID.’” nodded the guard.

Nelen sighed, “Idaho. Where the hell does a skeevy little fuck from Idaho even get the money for international plane tickets!?” he growled, then looked up at the sound of sirens. “Oh thank gods. Get him outta here!”

Two cops emerged from the cruiser as it pulled to a stop and between them and Rajesh’s men they dragged the intruder to his feet and towards the back of the car. “C’mon Arja! Lemme at least get a picture of those freaky monkey feet! Imagine all the likes!” he called out.

Arja roared and took a deep breath as Nelen grimaced, “SIMONI!” he shouted.

“ON IT!” she cried and as soon as the vanara exhaled she summoned a wall of wind infront of her. A gout of flames erupted from Arja’s mouth into it, shooting up into the sky and away from the crowd.

The cops and guards swore, a couple falling back in shock, but the rest managed to shove Arja’s stalker into the backseat and close the door with a loud click from its lock. “Go! Go!” shouted the cop to his partner as they dove into the front and sped off away from the house.

Nelen sighed, then shook her a bit. “Arja! ARJA! He’s gone! He’s going to lock up, and then they’re going to deport him BACK to America and blacklist his passport! Turn off the damn barbecue!”

The flames slowly died down and Nelen released the vanara girl, Arja’s chest still heaving as she slowly took a deep breath, then her golden fur receded and her tail shrank and soon a teenaged Indian girl with short hair wearing a Soccer jersey and baggy jean shorts was standing there. “Dammit Nelen…” she growled, “Just let me burn ONE of them…”

He sighed, “I get it Arja. Believe me, if I had my way I’d be helping you instead of holding you back… but unless they try to physically attack you then it’s still considered murder.” he nodded walking over to where the guards had him pinned. The struggle had been intense, he was a wiry guy and had kicked and fought before they’d pinned him. Nelen knelt and scooped around in the dirt, then stood up holding a small white object, “Hey guys? Anyone missing a tooth?” he called out.

All the nearby guards shook their heads and made comments such as ‘nope,’ and ‘I’m fine here.’

Nelen grinned, and it was not a nice grin, “Arja he’s at least going to get a parting gift, I can promise that.” he nodded. There were laws for what was considered ‘self-defense,’ but while magic was now known to be real the governments of the world were still just as slow and bureaucratic as ever, so no laws existed to regulate it yet. Nelen was worried as to what could happen when that eventuality came, but right now it meant that he could send out a rather nasty curse to their peeping tom.

Simoni looked back at him, the garuda girl wearing a green tube top and a loose black skirt at the moment. “Make it a painful one. I’m getting really fed up with this too you know.” she nodded, walking over to Arja and putting an arm around her. “I’m in every single picture with her and yet NOBODY gets it through their heads that we’re a couple!”

Arja glanced at her, “Except for that one who said he could ‘cure’ me.” she pointed out.

Simoni’s eye twitched, “Been trying to forget that one.” she sighed in an annoyed way.

Arja grinned at her, “Yeah, because Nelen had to grab YOU that time so you wouldn’t send him flying all the way to the Himalayas.”

Simoni grinned back, “Yeah, yeah… well, I had to hear enough of that crap back when I still lived in America.”

Then the trio looked up at the sound of a small thunderclap, a familiar feline form appearing before them.

“Aw maaaaaaaaan!” yowled Dawn, “I missed one! What was it this time? Crazy camera guy? Panty raid? Did he bring an electric razor and keep talking about being ‘naaaaaaaaaaaughty?’” she grinned widely.

Nelen sighed, “Dawn, read the damn room.”

“Never.” she smirked, “Need to give you an update anyways big guy. I got them to Dusty and we saw some shit…”

A bit later they were all down in the rec room as Dawn recounted the story of their visit to Nelen’s hedge mage friend.

“… and yeah. There is a new prince, but he’s apparently just a figurehead. Probably doesn’t know he is given how up his own ass he was in the vision. We heard that there’s about… four guys supporting him. We saw two of ‘em, someone calling himself Astaroth and another named Thomas, but that’s it. They mentioned someone named ‘Walter,’ but the big thing is that they were talking about The Mill Creek Monster.” she nodded.

Nelen had been seated on the couch with a can of soda, Arja and Simoni sitting infront of the TV playing Mario Kart, but all three of them looked up at the mention of a monster.

“… wait, the Mill Creek Monster? I remember those old stories… are you telling me that thing is a vampire?” he asked.

Dawn shrugged, “They didn’t say it specifically, but that Astaroth guy said something about him being a mortal once so, probably yeah. I think he’s probably one of the twisty ones.” she nodded.

Nelen frowned, scratching at his beard, “That would explain the urban legend. Most of the stories describe him as being pretty horrifying, so it’d make sense if he couldn’t pass as human.” he sighed, “Well… might not be a bad idea to get out of the country for a bit given all this idiocy… you guys wanna…” he began but Arja cut him off.

“No way.” she nodded firmly.

The others looked at her, “Wait what?” asked Nelen, “You… don’t want to go help out against a bunch of renegade vampires?”

Arja shook her head, “This is back in Kentucky right? We were just there for Christmas with your parents a bit ago and I almost froze to death. No way.” she said firmly.

Simoni chuckled nervously, “I mean… Arja has a point. Our powers don’t really work so great in cold weather and Stephy told us about how he got things set up so that Cincinnati is having a real winter for once instead of just a couple days of snow.” she pointed out. “I wanna help Stephy, but if its that cold then we won’t really be much help.”

Nelen sighed, leaning back in the couch. He had to admit she was right. Even ignoring that they were definitely more acclimated to the tropical climates of India, Arja was a fire user and Simoni had to fly to fight effectively, both were exceedingly difficult during cold weather. “Then I sure as hells can’t leave. I need to be on hand for the next freak who tries to sneak in here.”

“What about Drusilla?” suggested Simoni, “I mean she could probably just pulp those guys.”

“Nope… we need her here on mom duty.” he nodded. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help with the child rearing, but as it turned out cyclopti children matured faster than humans. Scylla was already on par with a preschooler in terms of size, and strength-wise on par with a human teenager who hit the gym a lot. Even Nelen had a hard time handling her.

“Yeah… I saw what was left of her bed after the tantrum she threw when you had to tell her she couldn’t have any more cookies…” giggled Simoni a bit nervously. “I mean… she’s a cute niece but… um… yikes…” she nodded.

“Exactly.” he frowned, “We’d have to drop her off in Sicily first so her grandmother could watch her, and Drusilla said she doesn’t want to do that. Apparently its considered a bad thing if a cyclops can’t handle their own kids.”

“Guys guys… we’re ignoring the obvious choice here.” grinned Dawn as the others looked at her. “They’re having a vampire problem right? Send in the experts!”

Nelen thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers, “Oh shit, yeah.”

Cincinnati Ohio, early evening

In a small room in back of one of the local nightclubs, a discussion was taking place. It was a pokey room, mostly used for storage, but also for things that… well… had to be covered up. There was a trapdoor hidden in the floor, leading straight into a hidden and walled off part of the Cincinnati Sewer System. A veritable oubliette, where leftovers were sent down… sometimes before they were all the way dead.

Standing in the room was Astaroth, the older vampire wearing a black shirt with a blood red silk tie, along with red and black pinstripe pants held up by red suspenders and shiny black dress shoes, his pendant hanging openly over his tie. He could never dress like this until recently, but now he was just seen as an eccentric with his own style rather than a cause for concern. Gods bless the hipster movement.

He paced infront of a chair, the vampire’s brow wrinkled as he listened to the story that the occupant of it told him.

“So, you’re telling me that one of them froze you solid, another summoned some sort of… ‘cowboy knife guy’ who killed your allies, and then when you caught up with them and the others they vanished through a door that shouldn’t have been there, and suddenly wasn’t?” he asked.

Seated in the chair was a rather strong looking man, muscular and wearing a tank top and baggy jeans. “Yeah… the door looked like it was made of silver, and it had some sort of animal’s face on it.” he nodded.

Astaroth paused, glancing at him. “… silver with an animal’s face… what kind of animal?” he asked.

“I… I don’t fuckin’ know, I didn’t get a good look.” stammered the vampire.

Astaroth walked closer, leaning in as his eyes seemed to glow red. “Listen to me young man, this could be very important. Think hard now. What sort of animal was it?”

The vampire leaned back, feeling a sudden tightness in his veins as the elder got close. “I… er… um… some kinda… dog maybe? Something like that.”

“A wolf perhaps?” he asked.

The vampire’s eyes darted left and right, then he nodded, “Y-yeah sure, could’ve been. Wolf, coyote, something like them.”

Astaroth straightened up, then scowled, “The Wulfshead Club… they have ties to the Wulfshead. That is bad…” he nodded, turning away and stalking towards the wall.

Thomas was standing nearby, the younger vampire wearing a more nondescript white shirt and suit pants, along with his own black leather shoes. “Whats that?” he asked.

Astaroth shook his head, “We don’t often deal with it, most undead don’t bother. After all, the clientele is very much able to take care of themselves so they make poor prey… but it’s a sort of travelling bar for all sorts of troublesome sorts…” he sighed, then glanced between them, “… hunters, mostly.”

Thomas hissed through his teeth, “Fuckin’ hunters? That’s bad… and the bar… travels?” he asked.

Astaroth nodded, “Indeed Thomas. The door can appear in any major city in the world if one knows the correct passphrase and is on the approved list, the bar itself likely exists in a pocket dimension of sorts. If those three spread word of what we’re getting up to things could go very badly for us… Cincinnati could become flooded with all sorts of would-be Van Helsings.”

Thomas frowned, “Yeah, we ain’t ready for that yet. Too many of the other elders would just stand back and watch, then decide on a new prince once they’re done dealing with our guy.” he glanced at the neonate in the chair, “So what the fuck do we do?” he asked.

Astaroth nodded, “The fact that we’re not dealing with a sudden mob of supernatural misfits with stakes and garlic suggests they haven’t spread word yet… so there may still be a chance to silence them.” he looked to the chair’s occupant. “I’m going to go write a letter, and when I’m done I need you to deliver it to a certain address near Mill Creek…” he grinned, then paused and added, "... though, you may need to read it to him."

The vampire in the chair went rigid, “Mill Creek?! Wait, you’re not talking about…”

Astaroth grinned, his fangs shining in the light, “He wants to indulge his bloodlust, we’re just suggesting where he can aim it.”

A Hidden Apartment in Covington

Prince Samuel stretched out on his rather luxurious four-poster bed, flipping through a novel he picked up at a local bookseller the day before. It was supposed to be about faeries living in the modern era, but it was more infuriating than anything.

“Wrong… all wrong… you think you can do that after making a promise? The Wyrd would strip the skin from your back as repayment…” he snorted, lounging in bed in a pair of blue pajamas made from some sort of silk-like material, one arm resting under his head as he flipped through the pages. “… and that. Ugh, that won’t work unless you speak in rhyme! We call it ‘dramaturgy’ for a reason!”

He looked up suddenly, feeling a strange sensation from the door, then heard a frantic knocking. He put the book down and quickly got out of bed, then went to the door, picking up his rapier as he passed by an umbrella stand, before opening it and stepping back with a look of shock.

A goblin was there, barely able to stand. It was a rather bestial one, with a face like a white fox and long clawed hands, dressed like a Victorian era highwayman, but it was badly injured! One of its arms was bent wrong, and its face was slashed open as if by some sort of claws, its blood staining it’s otherwise pristine fur. “M-message for you m’lord…” it coughed, collapsing over the threshold.

“Grabkins! A restorative, quickly!” he called out, pulling the goblin inside, looking out the door, then slamming it shut.

His house goblin jogged over, carrying a bottle of some crimson liquid which he unstoppered, then poured into the foxlike creature’s mouth as Sammi held its head steady. The goblin highwayman coughed, then sat up as its bones began to snap back into their correct shape, the gashes on its face closing, leaving only the bloodstains to show they were there before.

“Reynard. Talk to me, what happened? I sent you to guard my brother and his paramour!” demanded the prince.

The fox goblin sat up, shaking itself. “I was on outer guard duty with Leafrose, doing a quick patrol same as always, and the manhole cover near us suddenly crashed open and this… thing… came out of it. It tore me up, then Leafrose tackled it and told me to get word to you…” nodded Reynard.

“I see… Leafrose?” he asked, looking questioningly at the goblin.

Reynard shook his head, “He did his duty m’lord.”

“Blast… he was a good scout.” he nodded, standing up and walking to his wardrobe, then beginning to change into a leather tunic and trousers. “Grabkins, see to Reynard’s remaining injuries. My other goblins should be able to at least slow this thing down I should hope. I’m going to my brother.”

Sammi buckled a sword-belt around his waist and sheathed his rapier, his magic hiding it from mortal eyes as he stepped into a pair of tall boots, then walked out into the snow and closed the door, looking off in the direction of the Smith residence. “Oak and ash… dear sibling you had best be ready…”

Across the City

Stephy was not ready.

The changeling princess had been in bed when he sensed it and barely had time to throw on something that wasn’t a nightdress before he heard the sounds of battle outside! Tex and Tara immediately emerged from their rooms as they heard raised voices and fighting coming from the yard, the trio rushing downstairs as Stephy opened the door to find a scene out of some bizarre monster movie!

Several goblins were fighting some sort of huge shadowy figure in the yard. The goblins features were a mishmash of animal and humanoid shapes, but their foe was shrouded in darkness… unnaturally so as the nearby streetlamp should have illuminated him, but it wasn’t!

“Stop the beast! For the Icebound Heart!” croaked a froglike goblin as it leapt into the air, shooting well above the shadowy figure before aiming downwards with it’s lance. Two red glows in the shadows looked up and a clawed hand slashed out, sending the goblin flying with a loud cry of pain to land in a pile in the street.

Another goblin, this one with a human-like face except for its massive bat-like ears and pointed chin rushed forward with a spiked club, aiming for the monster’s legs, but it too met the fate of its ally as the creature batted it away. Whatever they were fighting was very strong, at least on par with someone like Drusilla!

Tara swore at the sight, “Kids, try to keep it busy! I got Loren’s number, I’ll see if I can get her out here!” she nodded as she ducked back upstairs for her phone. She didn’t like sending them out to do battle with that thing, but while Tex was at least able to fight using the Very Useful Deck the most she could do would be shoot it with an ordinary gun.

Stephy nodded to Tex, then ran outside and spread his arms as feathers erupted along them, his jog turning into a hop as his legs snapped back into bird-like talons. He let out a cry to summon a gust of wintery air which caught under him and lifted him up. Simoni had trouble flying in wintertime, but Simoni wasn’t the adoptive child of a fae queen of ice!

Tex shuffled the deck quickly and drew a hand, and in a flash of glamour he was holding a double-barreled shotgun that seemed to radiate with bloodlust. He aimed the gun, then fired off a round of buckshot at the monster, but it seemed to pass through the mass of shadows that hid it. “Shit! Darlin’ watch out! Those shadows are hidin’ where its body is! I missed!”

Stephy nodded, then flapped his wings and let out a loud birdlike cry as a blast of frost and wind blew downwards, the remaining goblins falling back as the Princess of Everfalling Snow began their assault. The shadowy monster stumbled a bit but kept pushing forwards regardless.

“Hmmm… Astaroth wasn’t kidding… They found a fun one for ol’ Clarence…” chuckled the shadows. “Can’t reach the pretty bird… but…” the glowing red eyes turned towards Tex… “You can’t fly.” it laughed, then suddenly surged forward!

Tex swore, leveling the gun again and firing, but the shadows leapt to the right, then right back infront of him as a claw was raised. He froze, the gun vanishing. Double barrel meant two shots, and when the guns the deck conjured ran out of ammo they vanished!

“LOOK OUT!” came a cry as a hand grabbed Tex’s shoulder and the ground under him froze, the boy flailing as he was suddenly dragged off the porch and into the snow, the ice acting as a ramp to speed his escape as the claw bit only empty air. Sammi had him by the shoulder, his rapier already drawn as he stared down the shadowy creature. “What on Earth is that thing?!” he demanded.

Tex let out a sigh of relief, “I dunno Sam! Aren’t ya’ll th’ expert?!” he asked as he quickly shuffled the deck anew and a cavalry saber that crackled with lightning appeared in his grip.

“On matters of Arcadia yes, but that is not one of ours! I sense no glamour coming from it!” he nodded.

The two boys raised their swords as Stephy swooped lower, preparing another blast of ice and snow… but the shadowy mass just laughed.

“Hmm… that smell… Clarence knows that smell… ain’t smelled it in a while. Faeries?” it asked, “Been so long since Clarence got to have faerie blood… Astaroth gave me a good one!” it cackled, then surged forwards again...

… and as it did the shadows under Sammi and Tex suddenly surged outwards and formed a solid wall! The monster, moving too fast now, couldn’t stop in time and slammed right into it! “AUGH!” it roared in pain as they heard a loud crunch from the impact.

Suddenly the shadows under the porch of their house shot out as well and formed into a series of spear-like protrusions, aiming towards the mass. It hissed in fury and leapt back, the attack landing in the snow.

“It would seem that we have arrived just in time…” came a voice with a deep European accent. Romanian specifically.

Standing there in the snow, dressed in her usual Victorian finery and long cape, was the child-sized vampire Natasha Kernovich. She wore a deep red silken top and a long black skirt with heeled boots, a confident smirk on her face. Next to her was Nicu Luminita, the vampire boy in jeans and a teeshirt with sneakers on his feet as he stared at the huge shadowy creature. Growling in fury before them was the huge form of the werewolf Lupe, already transformed and glaring at their attacker.

The shadow creature hissed, “A vampire? Must be from out of town… nobody would protect these snacks now. New Boss would kill ‘em…”

The group looked at the shadows, then Natasha nodded, “I thought as much. Nelen appraised me of the situation before I left for America. You would be this ‘Mill Creek Monster,’ yes?”

The creature laughed, then suddenly the shadows around it faded as everyone but Natasha and Lupe cried out, the werewolf only barking in anger.

Clarence the Rat, the Mill Creek Monster, stood revealed… and it was clear where his name came from. A twisted and deformed head with all but four teeth missing, the two front ones on the upper and lower jaws, jutting out almost three inches each and razor sharp with wicked claws where fingernails should be. It was almost totally bald with baggy skin and patch-like hair, and its eyes were beady and jet black. It looked like nothing more than a massive nearly-bald rodent in the shape of a man!

The Mill Creek Monster snarled and surged towards his targets as Natasha pointed a finger out and commanded, “Kill!”

A loud howl came from her companion before she raced forwards on all fours to meet the monster head on! “LUPE HUNT!” snarled the werewolf as she slammed home into him, slashing with her claws as the monster did likewise, the others falling back as Stephy landed.

“Natasha, thank gods…” he whispered as he got close to their undead ally.

She nodded to him, “Nelen could not come, but he would not forsake you… and if one of our little family is able to assist in matters vampiric… well…” she smirked, showing a hint of fang as she did.

Stephy nodded back, “Yeah, yeah good thinking.”

“He could have warned us a bit more about what that thing might’ve been though…” said Nicu, staring at the display as Lupe and the monster fought, the werewolf’s power a good match for the monstrous creature.

“Mm… a rarer breed of vampyr, but not unheard of in major cities. They use the power of blood to make shadows to hide their inhumanity, then strike from them to feed… and they can be quite powerful.” she nodded, striding forward as Lupe slammed into Clarence’s bulk.

“LUPE! HEEL!” she commanded as she gestured, her eyes glowing red, and the shadow underneath the Mill Creek Monster suddenly spiked upwards into him, the vampiric creature roaring in pain as he was impaled upon his own shadow!

She nodded then looked up at him. “Look at me monster. You may be ancient in the Americas, but I was turned before the colonies existed. I am likely far older and more powerful than you… and I have questions for you.” she nodded, narrowing her eyes menacingly.

Clarence snarled… then grinned and suddenly disappeared entirely. Natasha stepped back as she heard his hissing laughter all around them.

“You got powerful friends snacks…” he taunted, the shadowy trap vanishing. It used his shadow, but if he was invisible then he didn’t HAVE one to use! “Astaroth didn’t warn me about them… maybe he didn’t know… but ol’ Clarence ain’t leaving without some sort of prize…”

Then Stephy looked down and saw footprints appearing in the snow… “HE’S COMING!” he warned, preparing to send out a blast of frost, but the monster was faster!

Clarence appeared before him and slammed his fist into the changeling’s midsection, Stephy’s eyes bulging as the wind was knocked out of him! The Mill Creek Monster snatched him around the waist and slashed at the others with his claws as they tried to stop him.

“HE’S GOT STEPHY!” shouted Tex, running forward with his sword as Sammi joined him, his rapier at the ready… but Clarence just sneered as his eyes glowed crimson, and both he and Stephy vanished! A moment later the manhole cover in the middle of the street flew out of it’s hole… and they heard faint splashing sounds as something disappeared into the tunnels.

“Oh bugger and blast…” swore Sammi as he sheathed his rapier, glaring at the sewer entrance.

“That’s all ya got to say Sam?!” demanded Tex, pointing towards it with his own saber, “We gotta go after him now!”

Natasha shook her head, “We cannot. His kind will know the sewers of a city better than any, and they will not be found.”

Lupe whined at them, shifting back into her more animalistic form. Her werewolf form was better for fighting, but she preferred four legs to two. Natasha stroked the werewolf’s head, “John, bring us something of Stephy’s. My darling will be able to track their scent. This creature makes its lair in the city nearby, yes? If anyone can find our friend, it is Lupe.”

The unspoken thought they were all having however was the same… would they find Stephy in time?

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

The Winner of the Game

Long ago, in a small village that never existed as far as history cares, two children were born.

A boy and a girl, siblings close as any. Their lives were difficult, as most were at the time, their home was harsh in climate and politics alike and children grew up fast.

The girl, blessed with an almost inhuman beauty and understanding for the world beyond the mundane, became the apprentice of the wise woman of the village. She was respected and loved by her people for her empathy and kindness she showed to even the lowest rungs of their small society.

The boy, strong and cunning as any soldier could dream of being, became her guardian. He protected her from the threats both mundane and supernatural, but for all his power and skill he was only one man.

The supernatural was easy, they had rules, ways of doing things, banes and boons. The local dangers were just as simple; the occasional wolf or bear, an overly aggressive roadman or a handsy drunk at the longhouse. The world, though, was much bigger and more complex than their little nameless home.

They came out of the mists one morning, raiders in skins of great wolves bigger than any that grew around the village. They spoke a strange tongue and wore odd clothes, but worst of all they fought with a fury and rage that overwhelmed the small village without even a single loss on their end.

They knew things, too. Not simple brutes, they knew how to truly hurt their victims. Fields burned, livestock slaughtered, the wisewoman and her student were high priority targets, they would leave their prey with nothing to rebuild.

The boy, a man now, fought with all the strength he could muster but was thrown aside, battered and bleeding, by the raiders’ leader. He was a massive and beastly man who wore the pelt of a bear. He said something in his strange tongue, something harsh and spiteful, before his blade came down.

Death did not find the man, though, as in a final act of love and desperation the girl, a woman herself now, threw herself over her beloved brother to take the blow for him. The raider simply laughed, his goal accomplished, the man was nothing to him now, leaving him to succumb to his own wounds from the battle as he cradled his bleeding sister and wailed with rage and sorrow.

“At least we are together, brother…” she whispered. His sister’s voice was weak as she wiped his tears with her hand as she had so many times growing up, though her hand was already growing cold as her lifeblood stained the ground under them, mixing with his around them. “I couldn’t bear to live without my other half…” she whispered her final words as her body went limp.

The man felt his own death approaching, slower though, left holding his sister’s body and sobbing into her.

“We could do it better…” he finally whispered, voice raw and rasping with strain. “If we just had more time! We could have won…”

“That’s the curse, isn’t it?” A voice behind the man spoke with an almost casual tone despite the blood and death around them. “How many have gone to their grave saying the same thing? ‘Oh if only I had one more chance I’d be a better man!’” The voice laughed.

“Shut up…” the man hissed, this voice clearly wasn’t human, that was all he cared about in this moment. “This land will be empty soon enough, your kin can have it then…” He continued, knowing full well this was the final day for his home.

“Oh, you misunderstand. I don’t care about… what do you even grow here? Turnips, I assume? You look like a real ‘turnip’ person…” The voice continued as it stepped around the siblings.

She was honestly not that impressive. Short, plump, dressed in the finery of a wealthy woman from a much larger city than theirs. Maybe there she’d be impressive but to a man raised among more hearty farming and hunting stock she looked so weak even as she smirked at him so confidently.

“Nice fruits though.” she continued, one hand holding a pile of black berries that she must have picked from outside. “I like berries, kinda fun to eat, almost like gambling you know? Some are sweet, some are bitter, some nourish you, some make you shit to death. Fun, right?”

“I am not in the mood… for jokes…” the man groaned, feeling his body weakening, unable to even move his sister’s limp form off him if he wanted to.

“Yea, those guys fucked you up huh.” the small woman continued as she popped another berry in her mouth. “Know what a ‘viking’ is? Nah probably not, well in a few centuries they’re going to be remembered and you and that one are… not. Sucks to suck huh?”

“To the Hells with you…” the man spat back angrily despite his drooping eyes.

“Mmm, wrath. Not my thing but I dig it.” The woman grinned, her lips and teeth stained with liquid much redder than the berries’ flesh and juice. “Gluttony’s mine but I’m a complex sort of lady, lots of interests, like gambling.” She continued casually. “So, before you join your sister, you were saying?”

“What?” The man asked, genuinely confused by the woman’s casual attitude and the loss of blood fogging his mind.

“Something about more time and being better? Not a great bet, truth be told you’re kinda dull… but a combo deal. That’s rarer, and could be fun… What do you say? Wanna prove it?”

“How would I prove it?” The man spoke in a softer tone than before. He’d never entertain a creature like this normally, but he could feel his heart slowing and his lungs running out of air, things were different than ‘normal’ by a lot…

“Just what you said. More time to prove it. You want to show me you two can be ‘better?’ Fine, I’ll give you a go at it, and when you do I’ll reward you properly. Easy deal right? You sounded so confident after all.” She smirked, stepping forward at that, holding a red stained hand out for him. “…. ooooor you can die with her and be forgotten by sunrise tomorrow. Your call big guy.”

The man stared at that hand. He could feel his rational mind screaming to not listen, and hear his sister’s voice warning him that whatever this creature was nothing with the power to do such an act was trustworthy enough to agree to it…

A moment later his hand grasped hers. “Do it.”

Time is one of the few constants in the universe. It may operate in different scales in some realms, different rates of flow and such, and some beings may SEEM to be beyond it, but no matter how diminished its touch is, time is a constant that flows through everything. Sure some beings can manipulate it and alter it, but it remains consistent in a few ways. Most importantly for this deal, the fact that there’s only one real way to get a ‘second chance’ in life.

A little less long ago, in a different small village that existed as a small footnote in the surrounding area’s history, two children were born…

Thus was the cycle, live, die, be reborn as their infernal patron deemed them ‘not enough’ yet. Many faiths simply believe this is the natural course of one’s soul, but unlike the traditional views of such things, despite her amusement at watching her new ‘entertainment’ try and fail, the pair were blessed with one advantage.

They remembered everything. In a sense, they never truly died. The consciousness that was the young soldier and witch remained unbroken through time.

Not to say things were perfect, of course. Obviously for the first few years of life all that knowledge was functionally useless as affairs such as ‘learn to walk again’ and ‘use the toilet’ were a bit more pressing, but even in those regards the two would prove shockingly quick studies at least. Young prodigies who took to schooling and training like a duck to water.

Things didn’t always go smoothly, naturally. Despite their close bond the two couldn’t always ensure they died together after all. Still, their patron did know they were more… amusing when kept mostly together, and in the times when one didn’t ‘take matters into their own hands’ she at least ensured the twin was born near them. Not always siblings, not even always on the same side of history, but always closer than even blood relations could be, the two’s eternal cycle of rebirth began to define them.

They came up with rules, agreed upon in secret and never recorded properly, but meant to make life smoother for them. For one, at the top of the list, ‘never repeat an identity.’ There was more room to wiggle in the early days, but as records became better kept it became impossible to remain the same person through multiple lives.

Thus, their old identities were lost to history, just as the demon told them would happen, and they became like cuckoos in a new nest each time.

Much less long ago, in the heart of Russia’s booming revolution, the twins were thriving.

The man, now called Alexi, grinned as he sat at the table, feet kicked up on the polished wood as he ate an apple, his crisp and pressed military uniform and surrounding luxury a strong contrast to his casual attitude as he relaxed.

“Now see, this is life. Generations of toil and struggle under pigs like village elders, emperors, and czars and now finally we get our chance to live properly.”

The woman, now called Sasha, couldn’t help but chuckle lightly as she walked around the large house’s kitchen. “I admit I don’t think I’ve seen a stove this large in a home before…” she mused, running a finger along it slowly. “And they said we could just have this house?”

“Mhm.” Alexi smirked. “A reward from the general, turns out Comrade Lenin wasn’t wrong about many of these White Army sorts being parasites, though I don’t think he meant it as literally as a vampire… Still, he’s not using it, only right it goes to the people, yea?” He chuckled as he stood, walking to his sister. “A few others are moving in too, they’re like us… well not like us in that way but they’re hunters as well. The general says we’ll be leading our own group of hunters in the area from here, a symbol of the revolution for everyone to see. What once was a manor of excess and oppression now serves the people.”

“And I won’t complain about indoor plumbing.” Sasha smirked, slapping Alexi’s chest lightly. “This suits you, though. This talk, this uniform. You could be a great leader you know. There’s no time like now, I heard they’re assembling a vanguard leadership council in the capital, you could probably make it…”

Alexi’s face twisted a bit, waving a hand dismissively. “My place is here, if I want to lead I’m about to have a whole team of hunters under my command. This end of the war isn’t just an opportunity for us, many monsters are seeing the vulnerabilities and exploiting them while they can.”

“I suppose…” Sasha sighed lightly, waving a hand and lighting the stove with a spark from her fingers. “Still, don’t you ever get… tired? We fight for so long only to die and… fight more. Is this really the ‘better’ we’re striving for? Better killers?”

“I don’t care what that demon views as ‘better.’” Alexi answered curtly, frowning at her. “We learned long ago she has some likely unreachable standard just to ensure we’re always ‘amusing’ her. I’m sure we could walk on water and cleanse the lepers and she’d say ‘well you could have waltzed on the water instead’ and send us back. Why should we care what her standards are?”

Sasha frowned but nodded a bit as she walked to take some eggs from the basket nearby, going to work cooking as she often did when distracting herself. “Still, there’s more to life than hunting. Did you see the way Sophia looked at you when you rode into town after we liberated it? It’s been…”

“I’ve lost five lovers…” Alexi spoke quickly, stepping away from his sister. “Why are you so interested in adding a sixth?”

“Because a life without anything like that isn’t a life at all!” Sasha finally raised her voice, crushing the egg she held in her hand. “Don’t you see that that’s the game that demon’s playing? She doesn’t need to ever collect our souls, we make our own Hell every time we ignore actually LIVING just to…”

“… just to fight the monsters that hurt people like us constantly? Is that not a noble enough purpose for you anymore?”

“Maybe it’s not! You act like losing your lovers was some unforgivable thing but… Isn’t their memory still with you? Anatoly…”

“Don’t call me that.” Alexi growled. “Anatoly is dead, as is Alla.”

“We are NOT!” Sasha responded just as loudly, hitting his chest again, harder this time. “Please, brother, when it’s just us, why won’t you call me the name mother gave me?! The name she carved on my little wooden bed so carefully, the name I learned my crafts under… I AM Alla, no matter the names I take I will always be her!”

“Alla died in my arms!” Alexi shouted, slamming his hand on the counter hard enough to shake it. “I held Alla’s body as it went cold, I felt her blood soak my lap, she died to save me because I was too weak! She died because of me and because of my weakness I condemned both of us to this endless Hell! She would be ashamed of what a weak, worthless, coward her brother was!”

“She is not…” Sasha answered quietly, holding her brother’s crying face in her hands. “She loves her brother, her Anatoly, the morning sun. Born just before her to clear the way, and always tending to her needs. How could she hate her brother who was willing to defy time itself to remain with her? How could that love ever be anything but pure?”

“She should…” Alexi whispered. “She was going to paradise and I tore her away.”

“You are my paradise, brother…” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I can never be denied what I’m bound to forever. That’s why I want more for you than this endless bloodshed and pain. Please… for your Alla, just… go check in on Sophia, make sure she’s okay after everything? Maybe let her make you some tea?”

Alexi sighed softly, but put his hand on his sister’s head, kissing the crown of her head lightly. “I suppose I could use some tea, yours is always so weak…” he chuckled, pushing his sorrows away as he did so many times when she comforted his darker moods.

“Mhm, I already told her you like it far too strong to show how tough you are.” Sasha teased, blinking her own tears away.

Thus another cycle turned.

Alexi would go on to be a great hunter, never having the taste for politics but becoming a hero of the revolution nonetheless for his dedication to protecting the people from threats mundane and magical alike.

Sophia made a good wife, kind and loving but a fighter in her own way, they raised children they could be proud of, carrying on their legacies well before Alexi died peacefully in his sleep.

Sasha would pass away only a few days later, dying as peacefully as her brother did in the bed she shared with her own husband, surrounded by children and community members alike.

While modern Russia tried its best to move away from titles such as ‘wisewoman’ and ‘witch’, the role of a respected elder who knew the old ways to care for her people remained an important one, and she and her heroic brother were buried as honored members of the community deserved, a more noble life and death than many of their past.

Yet, after just a week past Sasha’s death, in a small fishing town, a pair of twins were born just like many times before.

“Not enough, let’s see what we can do again…” a familiar voice rang in both their ears as they were brought into the living world.

Only a few short decades ago in a suburb of Oslo, born to a Russian immigrant family, a pair of twins entered the world for yet another turn.

Ilsa was a beautiful young woman, though many said a sadness could be seen in her eyes if one looked too long in them. It could be explained easily though, she and her brother lost their parents at a young age.

Not to some dramatic event or grand horror of the hidden world, a simple tragic car accident. Nobody to blame, nobody to call vengeance upon, simply a random and cruel loss that even eternal beings never fully got used to. Their grandmother raised them well, though, and Ilsa took to her teachings with a surprisingly open mind and quickness to learn.

She had a bright future ahead of her, but like so many people her plans changed when a twist of fate happened.

Ryan Roche, a young man from France came through the same campsite she and her brother were using, hunters like them tracking a rogue troll that had been harassing local natives. He was charming, and worldly, and while not quite as ‘well-traveled’ as the twins he certainly had a more global view of his work than many others.

Her brother, Yuri, liked him as well. The two bonded over a similar background of both military work and scientific studies, and to be frank a similar taste for bravado and foolishness when it came to challenging the supernatural. Ilsa silently cringed when she watched the troll send them both flying across the snowfield with one sweep of its arm.

“Great… two of them now.” she couldn’t help but laugh as they both hopped up to run right back at it.

“You gonna be in town longer?” Yuri asked Ryan as the trio relaxed at the campfire, wounds bandaged, troll defeated, and a grateful native tribe sent on their way without asking for payment.

“Well, I SHOULD get home, my siblings are expecting me… but…” he grinned, looking at Ilsa with a sly grin. “Perhaps I could tell them I need to stay a few more days, gotta make sure this is the only troll after all, you know how it can be, they tend to look alike…”

Relationships were hardly new to the twins, they’ve both loved and lost many times, but their ‘rules’ always kept them close to their homes together. ‘Locals only’, as it were, the two never wanting to be too separated without a major need, and France was a good bit away from Sweden.

Still, what started as a simple fling began to burn more intensely. Ryan and Ilsa were so alike in many ways. Their devotion to family, their genuine curiosity at the supernatural, their desire for somewhat of a ‘normal’ life even while maintaining their work. She truly never expected Yuri to react so harshly…

“What do you mean France?! You can’t go to France, we’re working here! I have research grants here, but I can't go to France!”

“Well… then you stay here?” Ilsa spoke in genuine confusion. “I mean, it’s a bit of a trip I admit but there are so many ways to travel now, we can see each other…”

“What, holidays? Then maybe every other year? Then I don’t hear from you until that damn Frenchman calls to say you died from some foul thing they have down there?!”

“Anatoly, be calm…” Ilsa whispered, stepping closer to put her hand on his face like she did so many times when his emotions surged like this. “It’s me, your Alla, I’m never going to leave you. I just… I’ve never met someone like him, so aware of the other world but still… grounded. Have you heard about how he talks about his siblings? He almost sounds like you sometimes with how much he loves them.” she laughed faintly, not even noticing the anger in Yuri’s face until he shoved her back.

“He’s nothing like me! He doesn’t know what love is! He’s never had to watch his siblings die time and time again! He didn’t bind his soul to the pit of Hell to stay with them!”

Yuri had always been emotional, but he had never put his hands on Ilsa like that, in all their centuries together he never could muster the anger or spite to do that…

“Yuri…” she whispered, his true name feeling so false to associate with this rage. “You’re scaring me. I’m not leaving you forever I just… why can I not go live how I want?”

“Because I need you!” Yuri yelled, surging forward, grabbing her arms. “I need you by my side, I can’t DO this without you, I’m not… I can’t…” his face was an alien blend of anger and fear, an expression she never saw on him as she wrenched herself free.

“Enough!” She matched his tone, she hardly ever raised her voice to him before. “I will not let you put your hands on me like that, and I will not let you dictate how I live my life! If you wish to stay, stay, continue your research, I’ll be happy to support you how I can… from France. I’m going with Ryan tomorrow morning. If my Anatoly is still in there at all I expect you to see us off at the airport like a good brother should when his sister finds love.”

He didn’t go with them to the airport.

Ilsa sobbed quietly on the plane, face buried in Ryan’s arm, grateful that the Roches traveled by private plane at least to avoid others seeing her like this.

“He’ll come around…” Ryan tried to reassure her, rubbing her head softly as he kissed the crown of her head. “He just… you know how siblings are. You spend your life with someone, it hurts when they go even for good reasons. He just needs time, yea? Just wait, by the holidays he’ll be coming down and saying he’s sorry for being an ass.”

He never came for the holidays. He stopped responding to Ilsa’s letters as well. She tried to keep writing, but when he couldn’t even respond to being told he had a niece she knew her beloved Anatoly was gone.

In a way, Alla also was gone soon after, fittingly enough.

“That’s a cute lil grub…” that familiar demon’s voice grinned at Ilsa as she sat up one night feeding her child.

She gasped, about to shout for Ryan before the demon held a hand up. “Uh uh uh, relax. I’m here with good news. You did it. You finally won.”

“I… won?” Ilsa asked, her child turning to regard the strange visitor with a curious coo.

“Mhm, by the Morningstar it took you FOREVER to figure it out but you FINALLY did it! You win, and you get your prize as promised!” laughed the demon.

“Wait!” Ilsa asked quickly. “How did I win? I… I didn’t do anything different! I’m not even done living yet how can I have been better?”

“Ugh you things are so… how can you live as long as you have and still be so stupid?!” The demon groaned. “Didn’t do anything different… Look at you! Look where you are! Look who’s NOT with you!”

“... Anatoly? I had to… leave him?” she whispered.

“Well, ideally there were other ways. I mean I was REALLY hoping you’d kill the dumb fuck but… yea this works, I’ll count it. Point was you had to figure out that little creep was codependent on you and go out for your own life for once. I mean, for the Pit’s sake, the guy bound your soul to the living world and you never even got upset until now?”

Ilsa was quiet for a moment at that, only the baby’s cooing and gurgling carrying through the cold night air.

“I’m afraid I haven’t won, then. I don’t hate him for it, I don’t even resent it still. He did what he did out of love, and I still love him just as much even if…”

“Even if his love has been twisted?” The demon continued her thought. “You still love that thing back in Sweden? The man that grabbed and shoved you? That screamed in your face because you dared to want something not involving him for one time in your eternal life?! Is that love, kid, or is that obsession?”

“But I still love him…” Ilsa answered almost pleadingly, as if trying to assure herself of that.

“Yea, that’s the problem with giving a bunch of barely grown apes free will, your stupid monkey brains are still dumb as fuck.” The demon shrugged. “You love Anatoly, sure, that guy seemed like an alright sort even I gotta admit. Do you love Yuri though?”

“No.” she whispered, looking down with damp eyes at her baby. Her brother was always thrilled when she had children, just as she was for him. It was one of the few ‘no attachments’ exceptions they allowed, these little pieces of their legacies that would live a hopefully normal and free life beyond the identity they used to sire them. He wouldn’t even acknowledge the letter she sent with this one’s photo in it… she didn’t even trust that he read it at all.

“No, I can’t love this… Yuri he’s become.” she admitted finally.

“… and that’s why you’re better than the Alla that was so devoted and attached to another she was willing to destroy herself just so he wouldn’t be alone. Would you do that for Yuri? Leave this little rat without a mother if Yuri were to die tomorrow so you can join him?”

“No… No I wouldn’t…” she admitted, the words hurting to say though she knew they were true.

“Thus, Alla Rybolovleva, I, Igniz Evermaw, Baroness of Endless Hunger, release you from our contract! Your prize is thus: When the life of Ilsa Roche ends, so will Alla Rybolovleva, and I make no claim to your soul. I also make no promises where it will end up, but I can give you my word that it will at last be free to go wherever the fuck it wants to. Enjoy your final life, Alla, make it one worth remembering… or make another deal with me, frankly I don’t care, I’m bored now that our game is done and will likely never think of you again.” sneered the demon. She smirked, ever so slightly. Sure, the demon would never admit to LIKING a human, that would be disgusting, but she had to admit she was happy this one was the one that figured the game out first at least.

“… and Anatoly?” Ilsa whispered, the weight of her now mortal life slowly washing over her.

“He is still bound by my game, and frankly knowing him likely will be my thrall for eternity with how dense he is. If you want some advice, consider it a parting bonus prize for entertaining me so long, forget him.” the demon stated bluntly.

“Your Anatoly has been gone for a bit. The hollowness in his soul where Anatoly once was has taken over fully. There’s not even much left to torture in there anyway. Live this life and rest easy… as gross as it is to say you’ll probably be rewarded in the afterlife for so many lives of goodness.” she said in a mocking tone, though the words did seem honest despite her obvious disdain for the concept…

“Really though…” Igniz continued. “Mourn your brother. He died a long time ago, don’t you dare waste your prize by spending this last life obsessed with what’s left of him or so help me I’ll find a way to drag you down regardless."

With those rather… aggressive last words of advice the demon vanished, leaving Alla, now truly Ilsa for the first time, to sit and contemplate her own mortality for once.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

The Good Doctor

Twenty years ago

Doctor Simmons was not a man who lost his composure easily. Years of academic study and training honed his mind into a scalpel, and he took pride in suppressing the same emotions that often led his peers to failing. For example, many would blanche at the thought of using a newly discovered type of creature, one with mythical origins, as a crude science project more than anything.

Simmons, though, was one who saw that as the only logical path to take. Age was beginning to wear on him, thin lines around his eyes and mouth, whitening hair that was once blonde and bright, and those once rich brown eyes had begun to dull. Still, as he stood in front of the containment tube that was humming to life he felt like a young man again.

Here on this off the books research base, even for the normally amoral Cheron Group, he ruled over it like a lord given a fief by his king. Freedom to study what he needed, as long as he brought profit back to the mainland nobody questioned him. It was perfect for a man such as him. Now he could feel the project he wasted who knows how many lifetimes on before finally coming to an end.

Outside the facility things were much less calm. A storm was washing over them, winds powerful enough to make the sturdy support legs of the converted drilling platform rock. Lightning was crashing into the metal frame nearly every second. The good doctor and his team safely grounded inside, but outside every strike was sending jolts, even dulled ones, through the team at work.

They had to contain the storm, but first it had to be weakened. Simmons didn’t care how, that was for the ‘outside team’ to handle, led by those young… contract workers. They promised him results, and like his corporate masters he didn’t much care how those results came about as long as they could be exploited.

Present day

Doctor Simmons was starting to lose his composure.

“Seal the damn doors, I want guards on every entryway, windows too! If ANYTHING not in a lab coat moves, destroy it!” Simmons shouted as he slammed his hand down on the console he stood at, glaring at the screen that showed that once again a storm was rolling over his research station.

“It shouldn’t be coming this soon…” he hissed, rich brown eyes narrowing as he ran a hand through his bright blonde hair that almost shone in the fluorescent lighting of the command center. “It could barely swim when it left… unless…” He squinted, slapping the guard running the console’s arm. “Pause, pause that frame and rewind it five seconds.”

His eyes widened in horror as he saw the sight on the screen. Lit by an explosion of lightning it was still hard to make the figure out fully, but he could see certain things. Long black hair, dark blue eyes, fangs like a serpent’s that were grinning with sadistic glee…

“God… there’s another?!”

Twenty years ago

“Another!” Ryan shouted from the hook of the crane he was hanging off, pressing the magazine’s quick release on the rifle he was shooting, sending the spent container falling down into his waiting wife’s hand. “Hurry up! We’re wearing her down!” He added as the crane swung around, piloted by Ana who was still recovering from her last fight with this storm.

A sigil painted on the magazine with blood and soft chanting later Ilsa sent the now filled clip up to Ryan again, carrying on a cool breeze that did the work of sliding it back into place for him as he used both hands to simultaneously hang off the hook and hold his gun.

“Damn it…” the northern witch hissed softly as she watched the bright blue trail of ice infused bullets sail into the storm. “Hurry up with that containment, Simmons! I swear to the ancestors if you try to fuck us on this I’ll haunt your children’s children…”

The bullets were working, at least. They learned long ago that conventional weapons were of little use against this target, but like most beings of the sea it was sensitive to temperature changes. The ice bullets didn’t do much damage proper, in fact they mostly shattered against the creature’s skin and scales, but the enchanted chill that soaked into its bones was more effective at slowing it than any mundane bullet hitting the target could be.

Inside the station it seemed that Simmons was at least being a man of his word, watching the newly designed containment tube slowly come to life.

It was a prototype, a design once just a theory meant to contain the most dangerous ‘materials’ by putting them into a form of stasis. ‘Form’ being the key term there, due to the intended tests for this creature they needed its blood and nerves and other functions to be performing as normal even if it was contained, so this tube was designed to functionally trap its inhabitant in a state of full sensory helplessness.

Unable to move or communicate, it’d be feeling and experiencing everything regardless. Again, a proposition that any ethical scientist would consider too horrific to humor. Simmons, however, knew that ‘ethics’ and other such concerns were just emotional appeals that held progress back. The creature would endure it, even if they had to pump it with enough healing solutions to keep an entire mundane hospital supplied for a year. It had to! This was his only shot!

Present day

“I don’t understand…” Nessa frowned on the small boat that was currently bouncing along the waves and foam of the churning sea around them. “Why is she sending a storm already?”

Nessa and Alice had changed from their formalwear to ‘work clothes’, both dressed for more comfort and ease of movement than anything else. Nessa, after drying off, changed into simple jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt under a heavy matching coat. Alice had changed into a long black skirt and green turtleneck sweater to keep her warm in the cold ocean wind.

“Isn’t this going to scare your aunt’s agent off?” Nessa continued, flexing her gloved hands.

Next to the boat, keeping up with the breakneck speed that Harlow was piloting it at, was their ‘guest’ from before. Thea Aquamarine, princess of the sea, was swimming through the boat’s wake like a dolphin, body twisting and rolling as she cut through the water with speed. The main source of this speed was the large blue fish tail that replaced her legs the moment she stepped into the ocean water. Sparkling blue scales shimmered in the moonlight like gems every time that powerful tail breached the surface to propel her along. If not for the rather rude first impression she made, Nessa could almost confuse her for the more traditional stories of ‘mermaids’ and their beauty and grace.

“The storm is not to keep them out, fool…” Thea huffed angrily, instantly destroying any illusions of tact and sweetness one may have about her people. “My aunt’s agent is already within the walls of your people’s tumor on the sea. The storm is to keep them in!”

Indeed, currently inside the station, watching in horror as the guards and other scientists ran around her to take up positions, a young scientist by the name of Theresa was trying her best to look as busy as possible.

She never expected things to get this far out of control when she took the offer. It was supposed to be a harmless, easy, job. She was approached by someone claiming to speak for some kind of… well truth be told Theresa didn’t really follow. She had a lot of titles, but she sounded like some kind of nobility. They just wanted her to smuggle something out of her boss’ office for them and she’d make enough to pay off her student debt and take care of her family for life! It wouldn’t even matter if Simmons fired her after that if he found out!

Now there was a storm shaking the building, and the guards had taken out their heavy-duty weapons. She quietly ran a hand along the bundle pressed against her side under her clothes, taking a deep breath to calm herself as she felt the small leather pouch was still secure. Just had to get out, get to the drop off, and she’d never have to think about this job again!

Twenty years ago

“Just gotta get home, one more good hit and we'll never think about this again…” Ryan groaned, his arm wrapped in the chain for support, having lost his ability to hold it proper about five swings ago.

Ana was good at avoiding the strikes of lightning that would kill him instantly but the endless torrent of wind, rain, even razor-sharp sleet in a few passes, was wearing him down. He heard the click of a fresh magazine sliding in, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as his muscles burned. “One more… good hit…” he repeated as ice streaked through the darkness around them once again.

“It’s ready doctor!” One of Simmons’ assistants called, the containment tube glowing brightly as it was finally primed to accept its occupant.

“Wait for the signal! We only get one shot!” Simmons growled, gripping the edge of the console tight enough to make his knuckles white as he watched the fight outside. “Damn it Roche, you promised me results, don’t fuck me on this…”

One final swing was all Ryan could handle, his last few shots going wide as he slumped, gun splashing into the sea as he dangled helplessly in the chain. Ilsa grit her teeth as she signaled Ana to bring him down. She couldn’t see if any of those hit home. The storm was less severe but still going, she had no idea what ‘weakness’ even looked like in a being this powerful! Still, Ryan was spent, Ana was recovering, her magic was strong but not nearly strong enough…

“Now!” She called, waving her hand at the camera behind her.

“Now!” Simmons repeated as a flurry of activity around him as the tube dropped into the ocean under the facility and opened to suck in the seawater around it. “Come on…” Simmons whispered, for once in his life sounding genuinely desperate as he watched the monitor.

For a long moment it looked like nothing would happen, the tube simply dangling in its supports, filled with water and glowing but doing nothing else. After a tense minute, though, movement would be seen on the sonar.

“It’s moving!” The scientist manning it called.

“Away or to us?” Simmons asked quickly.

“To us, but it’s jerky, like it’s trying to move away! I think it’s working Sir!”

Simmons felt the manic smile crack his normally stoic face as he watched with rapturous delight. It was happening, he saw a shadow at first before a glint of red scale, a flash of red hair, a hateful green eye glaring at the camera as if it knew, and then the call came.

“Subject secure!”

“Reel it in then! I want to see my prize up close before those mercenaries come looking for pay…”

Present day

“Wonder how much it was…” Nessa asked casually as the boat came up on the center of the storm where the empress was waiting for them. “I mean, taking the wrath of all this must have been expensive right?” She asked as the boat got a good view of the empress at last.

She looked quite beautiful really, the upper half of a human was all that could be seen as her tail kept her upright under the dark water. She looked young for her power but still older than anyone else who had come to her at least. Matronly even, her creamy, almost pale, flesh contrasted so starkly with that oil black hair and intense green eyes. Yet, despite those features and the storm around her she smiled so warmly when she saw Thea, holding her arms out to embrace her daughter even in all the chaos.

“Beloved daughter, I’m glad you were successful.” Her voice was so calm, and sweet, the voice one associated with a siren, and Alice could feel her body relaxing around the woman as she heard it…

“Of course mother.” Thea said in a softer voice as well, burying her face in her mother’s chest for a moment before ‘composing’ herself again, straightening up with that haughty smirk back on her lips as she turned to face the boat. “Sir Harlow, knight of the Roche family, Lady Alice, heir to the Roche family, and… the other…”

“Nessa is fine.” Nessa glared back. “I’m sure your snake tongue struggles to speak a language like Nahuatl.”

“Yes.” Thea huffed. “Primate languages are so vulgar to learn anyway, I’ve done well enough with the handful I’ve needed. Nessa… guardian of the Roche heir, may I present Empress Azhu, queen of Lemuria, archduchess of the eastern seas, viscountess of the frozen south, first spawn of…”

“Enough, my heart.” Azhu said, placing a hand on Thea’s shoulder. That voice remained so calm and serene, yet there was authority in it now as she cut her daughter off. “These are not titles the land recognizes. Simply Empress Azhu, or Azhu alone, will do. Your family is sworn to mine, we should speak as equals.”

Thea let out an annoyed sigh at that, clearly not a fan of such a view, but not daring to argue with her mother in front of ‘company’.

“I trust my daughter has explained things?” She continued, smiling at Alice. “My, a blind one. Forgive me but I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a fully blessed member of your bloodline. I am humbled you came personally.”

Alice was actually taken aback by that, so used to Thea’s superiority and aggressiveness, to have her even higher-ranking mother act so… down to earth… was genuinely shocking.

“Y-yes, of course.” Alice coughed lightly as she composed herself. “According to my father this was a huge undertaking for him and his, it’s only right we send our best to finish it.” she smiled lightly before looking to the empress with a more sympathetic expression. “Your daughter also mentioned the losses your family took, may their memories be blessings.”

“Thank you, dear.” Azhu responded as a cold, clammy, yet still somehow nurturing, hand took Alice’s. “That means a lot, I know both our families are no stranger to loss at her hands. Yes, Thea’s father was one of my most beloved mates, and her sisters… well one never forgets their first spawning. We will avenge them, and the losses your family took.”

Alice could see this woman’s danger up close now. Without sight she could hear that voice so much more clearly than the others.

There’s genuine empathy there, kindness, softness even, but under it all is the voice of a predator. Thea is a shark, crashing through a school of fish to fill her mouth as best as possible and relying on raw power and passion to win. Azhu, though… this woman’s an eel.

She lies in wait, hidden in a rock, so calm and serene looking… right up until prey passes by and lets their guard down. Then Alice could imagine her striking with deadly accuracy, the kind you only get when your victim trusts you completely…

“Of course.” Alice said as she took the woman’s hand in return. “So, I’m told you believe her agent is in there already?”

“Yes, I can feel my sister’s artifacts, and I felt the one within moving already. I know these humans are too stupid to understand the power it holds… it must be her agent within them taking it.”

“I see.” Nessa nodded. “Good logic, so you want them alive for questioning?”

“If possible… I have many ways, though.” the woman grinned softly. “Their life is… appreciated, but not required. I do not wish to tie your hands. Simply keep their head intact and I will be happy.”

“I have your father on the comms.” Harlow spoke up, having been working the radio equipment since they came to a stop. “He has experience with these facilities and likely can guide you to the object.”

“As much as I dislike having a babysitter I agree, he likely knows the artifact we’re looking for.” Alice huffed, clipping the camera he gave her onto her sweater and hooking the communicator into her ear.

“The elder Roche is with us then?” Azhu asked, sounding genuinely pleased. “Wonderful. Please tell him I am thankful for his assistance again, and I apologize for any rudeness my daughter displayed in his home.”

Alice chuckled softly, putting a finger to her ear for a moment. “He hears you, and he says she was fine, by her standards at least.” She smirked as Nessa laughed next to her.

“I shall dull my storm then…” the empress nodded. “You’ll have an easy trip to the station proper and I will keep watch for any escape attempts.”

Alice was about to ask if she needed help keeping watch before an elbow from Nessa snuffed that question out. Alice couldn’t see the glowing yellow eyes that lit up the water around them like stars in the night, only seeming to open when the empress acknowledged them… Probably for the best she couldn’t see them, as Nessa shuddered softly.

“There’ll be guards.” Ryan said into Alice’s ear as the pair hopped off the boat, only to be met with rifles thrust in their face by black uniformed Cheron security.

“Yea, finding that out.” Alice frowned behind her glasses, using her cane to push the gun barrel from her face. “I’m a hunter! I’m here to solve your security breach! Tell whoever’s in charge that Alice Roche is here and stop pointing guns at Nessa and me before you lose a hand.”

Alice’s voice was firm, not just because she knew the best way to handle nervous security was with authority, but also because she truly hated this situation. Helping Cheron, even to help herself, left a bad taste in her mouth. She still couldn’t imagine her father and mother working with them, even in desperation. They seem to actively do everything they can to give hunters a bad name in every community possible. Profit driven, exploitative, downright cruel even, they only cared about the supernatural world as a means to an end.

“Doctor Simmons will see you.” one of the guards said after listening to his own communicator.

“Simmons?” Ryan whispered just loud enough for Alice to barely hear. “Did he have a kid? A sibling? Impossible, none of his records…”

“Shh…” Alice hissed as faintly as she walked, following the footsteps of the guard ahead of her. “This place is like a maze. I need to hear to get my bearings, I don’t care who this guy is.”

“No, Alice this is important.” Ryan responded before they turned a corner to reach the central command center. There Ryan saw him through the camera. Doctor Yuri Simmons, in all his youthful prime, stood in front of Alice with an annoyed look on his face.

It was impossible, if Ryan and Ilsa hadn’t researched him so well before taking the deal. It'd look like it really was the son of the Simmons he worked with, the spitting image of the older man. Ryan knew he didn’t have a spouse, though, or family on file. Moreover, he had seen the pictures of Simmons’ past works, his initial projects that got him the respect and authority needed to oversee such a secret location, when he was a younger man. This wasn’t the spitting image of Simmons’ youth, this WAS Simmons, just… young!

“Alice, get out of there! We’ll find a new way, this is bad, abort the-…”

Ryan was cut off by Simmons chuckling softly, tapping his own communicator in his ear.

“Same frequency as always, Roche. Enough though, you’ve come to do a job, and I expect the job to be done… Just like old times, right?” Simmons sneered a bit, voice dripping with spite before he focused on Alice.

“Did your father ever talk about me by chance? His old pal Yuri? It’s a shame really, if he just stayed in contact I could have been uncle Yuri with how close we used to be… Well, I guess that’s what happens when you kill a guy, though. Leaves a bit of a rift in the relationship. Well, bygones. Let’s begin. You’re here to snuff out my rat infestation, yes?”

Alice felt her blood run cold as the men behind her and Nessa cocked their rifles.

Twenty years ago

Yuvia roared in anger as her fists banged against the glass in vain. Every time she touched it a shock ran through her body. Not like electricity proper, more like her nerves themselves were lit aflame for just a moment.

Even out of her storm she was the picture of ‘the wrath of the sea’. Fiery red hair and gleaming ruby scales went with her light skin and dark green eyes to make her almost too bright to fully look at in the lab’s lighting. Still, as the containment device went to work pumping the water with the solution Simmons had created her movements slowed. They’d stop, finally, as she hung there, still glaring out with hate, but unable to move even a finger as she bobbed helplessly in the water.

“Excellent, she’s just how I imagined her…” Yuri smiled, putting a hand on the glass. “You’re the secret, the wrath of the sea that never dies… you’re the missing puzzle piece I’ve been looking for all this time. So don’t hate me too much. I’m doing this for a greater good, your sacrifice will be remembered, my vodyanoy.” He sounded almost dreamy as he spoke before stepping back, adjusting his coat before nodding to an assistant. “Prepare the first test, I’ll need five centimeters of flesh, seven scales, and thirty milliliters of blood.” he smiled as he made his way out to the now calm night outside, taking a deep breath of the sea air as Ana and Ilsa worked to keep Ryan on his feet.

“Wonderful work, all of you! Ilsa, as terrifying as ever, and Ryan… well I doubt he can hear me in that state so I can admit his little acrobatics display was impressive.” he chuckled, nodding to Ana as well. “And you, good work with that crane, useful all around… We should make this a more permanent agreement, shouldn’t we?” He smiled, looking at Ilsa again. “Come on, Ilsa, wasn’t this fun? Like the old days, all of us, hunting? What do you say, while Ryan’s not awake to be a stick in the mud. He listens to you, you can tell him my team isn’t bad. I don’t give a shit about the rest of Cheron… those idiots are just tools, but I’d like to have people I can trust on my team.”

“If you cared about trust you wouldn’t work with Cheron at all!” Ana spat back angrily, Ilsa nodding as she did so.

“Yes, Yuri you know I love you but I cannot support what you’re doing here. I… I understand your circumstances, believe me, if anyone does it’s me, but…” She sighed softly, shaking her head. “There are right and wrong ways to do things, and Cheron is the wrong way.”

Yuri felt his jaw clench, glaring at her as she spoke. “WRONG way? The wrong way is living like this! It’s this…” He stopped himself, taking a breath to refocus. “When you’re ready to be an adult, call me. I can always use more intelligent people on my team, and despite your narrow-mindedness you three are that.”

“Hey…” Ryan groaned as he woke up, staggering to his feet fully. “What about the pay?” He called as Yuri had already turned his back on them.

“Oh I’d never dream of insulting you, my old friend, with my filthy Cheron money. Your pay is the helicopter waiting for you, keep the fucking thing for all I care.”

“Fuck you…” Ryan spat back, pushing away from the women to shove Yuri. “You think you can treat us like that because we don’t agree with you selling your soul?! You promised us money at least for all this crap, don’t you ghouls have a finder’s fee?”

Yuri’s face twisted in anger as he turned back, returning the shove to Ryan. “Ghoul?! I am working for a better future for HUMANITY! You know, the beings you come from too? If you want to get weepy over the fate of a monster that killed your siblings go ahead but don’t you dare accuse me of selling my soul when you’re defending the ‘dignity’ of th-…”

Whatever else he was going to call the creature in the tube was cut off by a shockingly harsh punch from the barely standing Ryan landing right across his jaw.

“Keep my siblings out of your mouth! You have no idea what it’s like t-…”

Again his threat was cut off as Yuri lunged at him, grabbing Ryan around the neck and slamming his back into the railing behind him. “Tell me, tell me what I have no idea of! Is it watching family die? Is it seeing these things victimize me and my loved ones? Go on, Ryan, finish the sentence! Show me how stupid you really are by thinking I don’t know anything about what you went through!”

“Yuri, stop! Let him go!” Ilsa shouted, hitting him on the back but unable to break his grip as Ryan choked for air.

“No! I want to hear what this glorified mercenary you abandoned your family for thinks we don’t know about loss! How many siblings have you lost, Ryan?! How many parents?! Children?! Lovers?! CITIES?! I’ve lost ALL OF THEM and you care more about the creatures that would take them from you than me?! For god’s sake Ryan we’re fami-…”

This time it was a gunshot that cut someone off. Ana stood behind the struggle, holding a smoking pistol as she panted. She had meant to aim for Yuri’s side, a bad hit for sure but one his medical team could patch up right away.

The struggle was intense, though, and she was having trouble standing so long thanks to the still fresh scar up the side of her body…

The bullet had gone up too far, hitting him right in the back of the head. Blood splattered against Ilsa as she screamed in horror, Ryan groaning as Yuri’s limp body covered him.

“Fuck… get him off me… he’s gonna knock me over…” he coughed as he pushed Yuri off, Ana running over to help.

“I… I meant to… I was aiming for…”

“It’s… It’s okay,” Ilsa said, tears welling in her eyes even as she said that. “It’s okay. He was… I don’t know what, he was going crazy. I just…” She let out a ragged breath, wiping the blood off her face as best she could.

“Damn…” Ryan sighed, looking at Yuri’s dead body with surprising pity for someone who was just being choked by him a moment ago. “What happened to you man?” was all he could say.

The three left quickly after that, they knew Cheron couldn’t exactly call the police over a technical self-defense shooting that happened on an off the books highly illegal research lab, but nobody really wanted to stay around after anyway.

The hunt was, despite everything, a success. Yuvia had been contained, Cheron got its ‘subject,’ and the creature that killed Ryan’s siblings and so many others was no longer a threat. Still, it didn’t make the hollow victory any better as the trio rode home on the helicopter in silence.

Somewhere across the world, at the same time as that silent helicopter ride, for a brief moment over America a glowing aurora could be seen despite being far from where it should be. Shortly after, a baby was born, as so many had been before, and somewhere deep in the void of the abyss, a voice laughed.

Another spin of the wheel, huh?

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Aquamarine

Since The Smiling Knight things had been tense around the house. A blend of fear at how quickly a seemingly safe hunt went badly for the younger ones and genuine confusion at what could drive ghosts that mad that quickly had put the Roche family on high alert studying their archives.

“Banshee?” Nessa called from her ladder halfway up one of the massive bookshelves.

“No... they were very adamant he said SONG, Banshees tend not to sing…” Alice frowned, fingers rapidly dancing over the book she was reading with braille.

“Maybe a myling?” Ilsa offered from her own seat across from Alice. “A bit far from Scandinavia I admit but they are known to sing.”

“Hm, maybe…” Alice frowned. “I thought they sang to lure victims though? Never heard of one doing it to other ghosts.”

“Yea, me neither… So odd.” Ilsa mused as Nessa continued to slide along the shelf she was looking at.

The trio looked rather out of place in the library, all three dressed far more formally than research typically called for. Alice and Nessa wearing matching ankle length ball gowns of royal blue and deep crimson respectively, Nessa’s many shining gold bracelets jingling almost musically on her arm as she scanned the books as Alice’s rather heavy looking rings seemed to make a few words she fingered over difficult, both having discarded their heels at the door to let them move through isles faster.

Ilsa was dressed just as nicely, though a bit more conservative, a more traditional wide-bottomed dress from her homeland, a blend of pale blue and white in an elaborately stitched pattern of geometric lines and angles. She was more used to moving in heels than the younger women, the advantage of spending most of one’s adult life playing arm candy to one’s husband.

“Oh!” Nessa called from the shelf. “What if it’s a siren?”

“Maybe…” Ilsa mused softly. “Same problem as the myling though, yes? Don’t they typically save their songs for human victims?”

“Typically! Buuuut…” Nessa continued with a bit of a wild grin, yanking a book from the shelf and hopping down. “I was just reading this journal for a sailor your family worked with way back…”

“Dare I ask why?” Alice asked with an amused smirk.

“Hoping for hints of sunken treasure.” Nessa answered earnestly.

“Of course, carry on dear.” Alice grinned as she turned to face her.

“No signs of treasure, BUT he mentioned a cavern with ‘beautiful music’ that was glowing ‘as if from another realm’.” She continued undeterred, flipping the pages to find the right one. “Now, like a smart mundie he avoided it but that sounds like it COULD be a ghostly situation with a possible siren at the head.”

“Huh, yea it could be.” Alice nodded as her mother took the book. “Nice find, we’ll file that under ‘hopefully’ since at least sirens are pretty easy to handle once you recognize them.”

“Mhm, it would be nice to fix this before it spirals.” Ilsa nodded, tucking the journal into her pocketbook as she gave Nessa a smile.

“Speaking of times.” a voice came from the doorway. Ryan was smirking faintly as he leaned on the doorframe, the older man dressed in a crisply cleaned black suit, obviously enjoying watching the trio work for a moment. “They’re about to start asking why my wife, child, and future head of security all seemed to vanish at once and that’s a rather awkward question to answer even among this crowd.”

The Roche house was currently quite busy, more so than the usual activity about the halls. The family was known for attending many parties and events publicly, but very rarely hosted them themselves. Most Roche events were family only, times for the hunter family to gather, touch bases, and plan for the future as well as socialize.

One of their biggest times for this was the yearly Rosh Hashanah celebration. The Jewish new year was a perfect time for the family to plan for the coming year and get on the same page, as well as a pleasant enough excuse to get together and simply enjoy the company.

Alice and Francis remained at home like most eyeless in the family did, the ease of staying in the ‘command center’ of the family valuable for the ones meant to lead it, as well as giving them access to all the family resources easily. There were other Roche family members, though, spread through their network of influence.

Alice’s eldest sister, Isobel, was head of her own team covering eastern Europe. The tall, well built, young woman stood out in most family gatherings due to having a good few inches on even the men in the group. She was currently trying to wrangle some of the younger family from getting too rowdy, laughing as she and her husband both helped guide the children to the back garden where the food and tables had been set up.

Between Alice and Francis in age were the twins, a boy and girl both nearly identical in slightly androgynous looks with their short cut hair and loose fitting clothes, it made telling Justin and Julia apart quite difficult most times.

The only Roche who had any reliable record at it was Harlow, the adopted fae standing between them with a friendly arm over both of their shoulders as they talked logistics. The twins had been setting up shop in North America, a part of the world the Roche family didn’t work with too often and were looking to change.

Other branches of the family were present as well, siblings of Ryan and Ilsa and other extended families that, when taken together, stretched almost the whole globe to some degree. The garden had become quite full by the time Alice and the rest came out to rejoin things.

There was one figure that stood out in the group, though, drawing Nessa’s eye to her as the group passed by to take their seats at the head table. She was young looking, maybe around Alice’s age, wearing a deep blue dress that looked similar to Alice’s, though seemed to be made of a much… shinier material, almost like liquid metal as it glimmered in the low sunset light.

Her bright, almost neon, blue hair was pulled back into a ponytail, not just out of fashion choices but for practicality as well. Unlike everyone else currently eating traditional holiday treats such as apples and baked goods, the strange face was currently eating what looked like a whole fish, likely taken right out of the kitchen fridge, using her elegant bare fingers to pull the fish’s flesh and muscle apart and bring it to her mouth as if it was the most classy and refined act she could do…

“Who’s the blue one?” Nessa whispered to Ilsa as Ryan moved to the podium set up for speaking next to the table. Ilsa just shook her head, a soft smile on her face as she held a finger to her lips in a ‘shhh’ motion.

“If I can have your attention please.” Ryan spoke as he took his place, smiling warmly at the crowd. The microphone was on but hardly needed for his strong voice to reach the already relaxed assembled group easily. “I have just a few words to celebrate this new year with my beloved family.”

He kept his smile on his face, though his eyes couldn’t help but drift to the frog statue in the distance that held that spirit’s orb for just a moment before he cleared his throat.

“This past year was a big one for us. My dear sister Augustine has set up her family in China quite well, our twins are making inroads in North America’s hunter communities, and most of all I was proud to see Francis take his first steps to become a proper hunter just a few days ago.”

Francis could hear the genuine pride in his father’s voice as he said that, a faint blush coming to his cheeks as the crowd clapped for the list of accomplishments. In truth they were all impressive, between two major plays into huge hunting territories and the second eyeless hunter coming into his own the Roche family had a lot to be optimistic about.

“I have never been prouder to be a Roche, or humbler to lead this family as I am right now. In truth I have the easiest job among you, because each and every hunter I ‘lead’ is a skilled, brilliant, figure who is more than capable of solving anything in their way… Which is why I hope you all won’t think less of me when I say this next part.” He took a soft breath at that, Alice and Francis both feeling the tension in the air as he shifted topics so seamlessly.

“As of today I will be stepping down as head of the Roche family hunters.” he said, cutting the tension finally as a few genuine gasps of surprise came from the family.

“I’m not retiring fully, don’t worry.” Ryan continued, holding his hand up. “I’ll still be doing my ‘official’ duties as head of the Roche Foundation and other mundane aspects, and obviously I’ll remain here as an advisor… but the time has come for me to step aside and allow the new generation of hunters to take their spot. Alice will be leading things for now and, when he’s ready, Francis will join her as is tradition. I understand my position as leader came at an unusual circumstance, and I hope I did well to meet it, but it’s time to return to how this family has been led for generations before, and I can think of no better heirs to have than my daughter and son.”

He took a soft breath at that, his eyes seeming heavier, sadder as he looked across the crowd. “If I can be honest… I never felt I deserved this spot. When my siblings died I felt like a part of me died with them…” he said in a softer voice, his siblings looking to him empathetically. For all the strife and conflict that came with it, Ryan was always respected by his younger siblings for taking such a burden without complaint and hearing him open up about it was far from a shock but still unexpected.

“I’ve felt my heart becoming harder as the years go on, the spite and bitterness building in my soul like poison. I can feel there’s only so long before I begin to view every supernatural being as I do the one that took my siblings from me.” he continued as he gave Harlow a soft look.

“Though I know there is so much good in that world that the Roche family has always tried to maintain. So, before my own pain can poison my family and ruin the legacy my siblings died for, I know what must be done. I need to step aside, and in fitting tribute for the new year I need to let this grief go before it festers.”

He nodded to Anna at that, the woman chuckling lightly as she stood, nodding softly at Ryan.

“If you’ll forgive me, I’m going to do one last act as head of House Roche. Something I should have listened to my wife and done years ago.” He smiled at Ilsa, reaching down to take her hand gently as Anna made her way to the frog statue, Nessa and Patli moving to join her.

“The Roche family has always stood on a foundation of mercy, mercy for the people we protect and the things we hunt. I have violated that foundation by keeping this spirit in bondage for so long. I don’t know what twisted it into such a cruel thing, maybe it was always that way in life as well, maybe something made it that way, or maybe my siblings were just unlucky and I ascribed malice to what was just a horrible turn of fate all these years. Regardless… Life is for the living, and it’s time I stopped letting ghosts weigh me down.”

He could see the looks on his siblings’ faces, the sympathy, pity even, he wanted to avoid for so long, but he also saw the anger as they looked at the statue, and knew he was choosing the correct path. He wasn’t the only one letting that anger fester, and keeping the constant reminder of tragedy around was only making it worse. “Ladies, if you please.” he nodded to the trio, Anna nodding crisply to him before looking at the girls.

“We are speakers of the gods…” she spoke in a soft voice that still seemed to carry over the grounds easily. The trio each pull out a small obsidian blade and slashing their own palms open. “We maintain the natural order, and this spirit’s time has long passed.” She continued as the three pressed their bloody palms to the statue. “Let it be judged by the gods, its time judged by man is over.” She continued as the smoke within the sphere rolled faster and faster, as if raging against magic before it began to spark with green flames.

“I hope they’re kinder to you than I was…” Ryan whispered softly away from the microphone as he watched the fire overtake the smoke before, like nothing happened, the orb was left empty, a simple bauble decorating a rich man’s garden…

The garden was stone silent as the trio returned to their seats, one of Ryan’s siblings even wiping their eyes as he coughed softly. “Well, on that upbeat note…” Ryan laughed slightly awkwardly. “Let me be the first to welcome Alice to her position as head of hunters.” he smiled, already feeling slightly less weighed down as he stepped aside, the family applauding as Alice stood slowly to make her way over.

Unlike her father she needed that microphone, her voice soft, delicate even, hiding the hunter’s true deadly nature that everyone knew well. “Hell of an act to follow, Dad…” she said with a soft laugh before nodding.

“I’m not going to say a lot, to be honest I don’t have much to say. Like dad said this isn’t too hard of a job when I have so many great family members supporting me. All I can do is promise you I’ll always put this family’s duty above all else. My father’s humble to a fault but he left me a great family to lead, and if I can be half the leader he was then I’ll be proud. So… yea…” she laughed again slightly nervously. Typically her public engagements weren’t so… focused. Photos and the occasional softball question sure but she wasn’t quite used to having so many eyes on her looking for actual leadership even if she couldn’t actually see them.

”Shana tovah, let’s get this year kicked off well,” she finished as Nessa quickly signaled at the assembled musicians who had set up at the side of the garden, the band thankfully starting to play to give people something other than Alice to focus on as she quickly strode away from the podium.

“Well that was garbage…” she sighed softly as her father laughed, slapping her shoulder lightly.

“No no, it was good! You were quick at least. I think I rambled for a good ten minutes when I gave my first speech to the family…” he chuckled, smiling at her before pulling her into a hug. “You’ll get used to it.”

Thankfully it seemed most of the family agreed, nobody expecting this announcement at all, let alone having some grandiose expectation for Alice’s speech. Barely nineteen she was one of the younger heads to be appointed, only beaten by her father who had the burden put upon him at eighteen… Still, her reputation was well known, and aside from some jokes about her having to fit in office hours between galas it did seem the optimism remained.

Thankfully for its own good that optimistic air was far from the house office, where Alice, Nessa, and Ryan had gone to let her get used to her duties. “Honestly, it’s fairly simple. In the morning you’ll come here, the computer is obviously set up for voice to text and vice-versa, and you’ll have Nessa to help. Log in with that information I gave you and you’ll get our communication network and can-…”

“Roche!” A voice from the door made Alice jump in her seat. She hadn’t heard anyone coming… how had she not heard that?

Standing in the doorway was the woman in blue, frowning at the trio as she marched in uninvited. “What is this ‘retire?’” She asked, her voice thick with a French accent that sounded… honestly a lot like Alice’s.

Old nobility, the kind one heard from diplomats and long time national leaders. Though hers was a bit more… aggressive. “Who ‘retires’ from hunting? You hunt until you die!” She glared as Nessa moved quickly to intercept her.

“Hey, why don’t you go back to the party, fish breath? This is family business.” Nessa said defensively.

“Family…” the other woman growled softly, lip curling to expose a rather long canine tooth… At first Nessa thought vampire, but it was too early, she’d been here since before sundown, and that fang wasn’t the typical vampire canine. It was longer and thinner, like a snake’s. “Do you not tell your spawn anything, Roche?!” She continued, looking around Nessa to speak to Ryan still.

“Oh that’s it! You’re out of here…” Nessa glared, grabbing at the woman’s arm only for her to wind up behind Nessa in a blink. Nessa felt a rush of cold, and suddenly she was soaked as if she had been thrown in the pool, and the woman had seemingly passed through her. “Oh you absolute BITCH! I did my makeup for almost an hour for this!” She fumed, turning to face the woman again.

“...Wow, that took an hour?” The woman in blue responded with a sneer, making Nessa’s eye twitch with rage as she reached for her knife.

“Nessa, down…” Ryan said, holding a hand out as he moved over. “You too Thea, you are here as a guest and I CAN revoke that. Apologize to Nessa and try again.” He spoke firmly, but with surprising calm despite what just happened, as if he was used to this.

The woman frowned at him, tongue gliding around her cheeks as she tried to avoid listening before realizing he wouldn’t give… ”Fine, I’m sorry Nessie.”

“NESSA!” the still dripping woman corrected her angrily.

“NESSA!” the blue haired woman repeated in the same tone. “I shouldn’t have insulted your makeup, you probably did your best with what you have.”

“I’m going to kill her, I’m actually going to end her life, Alice be a love and get me a barrel and some acid because I’m about to kill her…” Nessa fumed as Ryan sighed softly.

“I’m afraid by her standards that actually was a ‘good’ apology, Nessa. I’m going to have to request as your employer that you accept it and not murder a royal dignitary in my home.” He said as he rubbed his temple.

“Alice, Nessa, meet Princess Thea of the Aquamarine dynasty.” He continued, waving a hand at the woman.

“Ugh, that’s it?” She frowned. “I am Princess Thea, heir to the Golden Coral Throne, Grand Duchess of the Arctic Seas and Warden of Lemuria. Daughter of Azhu and her most honored concubi-…”

“Princess Thea,” Alice cut her off, already feeling the headache forming as she stood, giving the woman a respectful bow. “To what does my family owe the honor of your presence?”

“Well at least the new Roche knows how to address royalty…” Thea huffed, crossing her arms as she looked back at Ryan. “You, though. Where do you get off retiring without permission? You were under contract to my family and don’t think retiring frees you of that duty!”

“I would never, my lady.” Ryan spoke as he put a hand up to block Thea as she strode angrily at him, finger jabbing at his chest as she did. “My contract is still in effect, and I would remind you that my contract with your mother was that my FAMILY would aid yours, not me personally. Alice is the new head, she will be working with you now.”

“So I’m left with a spawnling on a matter of divine importance? Can this one even swim?” She asked without even looking at Alice.

“I almost qualified for the special olympics in swimming actually.” Alice offered. “It was speed swimming but still, only reason I stepped aside was because during the last qualifiers I had to deal with a werewolf that was causing problems a few towns over and wound up… incapacitated…”

“I didn’t ask you, fry.” Thea glared at her, Nessa raising her knife behind the other woman before a rapid motion from Ryan told her to stop. “I asked your father, who my family has worked with before. YOU are a stranger, and the divine wardens of the seas do not work with strangers.” She huffed before looking back to Ryan. “Roche, you will report to my mother’s palace IMMEDIATELY to explain to her why you are abandoning her and pray that she is feeling merciful…”

“Actually, I will not.” Ryan spoke in a firmer tone, frowning at Thea. “I have explained now twice that the contract I signed promised the aid of my family, so as far as I’m concerned she is NOT a stranger and you will speak to her with the same respect you show me in my own house during a holiday gathering you were kindly invited to as a show of respect for our bond. If this is a problem, then you are free to end the contract and find a new family to aid you.”

“...This is ‘speaking to him with respect’?” Nessa whispered as Alice shushed her, rarely seeing her father speak so authoritatively, let alone to… guests? Clients?

For a moment Thea and Ryan just glared at each other, neither backing down for a good minute before Thea sighed angrily.

“Fine! Smaller Roche, Roche the lesser.” she snapped as she turned on her heel to look at Alice. “Are you aware of the contract your father signed?”

“I am not, actually, could you fill me in?” Alice asked, trying to contain her annoyance as she motioned for Thea to sit across from her.

“Of course, how silly I expected your father to actually prepare you for your most important task…” She huffed, though she did sit. “First off, do you know who I am?”

“Well you had a long list of titles back there, give me the short version?”

Thea looked mildly offended at the implication that a ‘short version’ existed, but thankfully did nod at least. “I am Thea, daughter of Queen Azhu of the Golden Coral Throne. She is queen of the northern seas and heir to the Empire of Lemuria.”

“Alright, Lemuria I do know, though only through mythology and theories. Your family is from there?” Alice spoke as she pressed a recording device’s button, having a feeling this would need extensive notes…

“We are its former rulers, god kings and queens of the most advanced and powerful empire this wretched surface world has ever seen. I am the heir to the Aquamarine dynasty, the oldest of the bloodlines. Your father met my mother years ago, when he was still a whelp like you and after doing her a great service he was invited as one of the few surface dwellers allowed into her kingdom.”

“So our families are allies then.” Alice nodded. “Well that’s good to know.”

“Yea good to know how you treat allies, hate to be your enemy…” Nessa huffed as she wrung her hair out.

“Yes, you would, child of blood.” Thea glared pointedly at Nessa before continuing. “Yes, we are allies, and in that alliance your father swore his… family’s… aid to my mother in one of her most important tasks.”

“Alright, well like he said that contract is still in play, consider me my father’s new proxy in that, what’s the task? Have some creature bothering your people? Mundie fishermen or treasure hunters causing problems?”

“He pledged his family might to slay my aunt, my mother’s sister, Queen Yuvia.”

“Slaying your aunt?” Alice asked, shooting a glance at her father. “We typically don’t take… assassination jobs.”

“My aunt is far more than some rogue enemy or some dissenter in a power struggle. She is a powerful magician of the sea, one descended from the gods themselves, and she wishes nothing but the subjugation and slaughter of the entire surface world.”

“Alright…point made, so she’s a big threat then. Why has this apparently taken years to do then?” Alice asked.

“I can answer that.” Ryan stepped forward. “Queen Yuvia is an intelligent enemy and… frankly until very recently I thought she HAD been dispatched. Instead it seems she’s been lying in wait for a moment to strike… and I believe she’s chosen her moment.”

“Your father fought her once.” Thea continued. “He lured her to a drilling rig a surface-dweller group named for the ferryman of the dead.”

“Cheron?!” Alice nearly spat out, staring at her father. “You worked with Cheron?!”

“It was… it was my only play I had,” Ryan said shamefully, rubbing his arm lightly. “Alice, look, this woman is incredibly powerful, and incredibly smart. Your mother and Anna and I tried other ways but she got away every time, and each time it… cost us.”

“My mother was part of this?” Nessa asked in a slightly smaller voice than before. Clearly feeling the weight of this contract far outweighs her annoyance at Thea.

“She was. We tried to keep this small, just us, the ones who made the deal, the less people involved meant the less people she could target but…” Ryan sighed, shaking his head. “We almost lost your mother, Nessa.”

“The scar on her side…” The woman concluded, the one wound on her mother she never told even her about.

“Your mother died. I don’t know how she came back but she somehow did. After that we were out of options, Yuvia was angry and… A Cheron worker approached us with a deal. We lure her to a research rig and help subdue her and Cheron would… handle her.”

“What did they do?” Alice whispered softly.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. We left before we could find out and never looked back.”

“Whatever they did.” Thea spoke in a more serious tone. “It broke her mind even more than it was before. She wants revenge on the entire surface for what happened to her, and frankly I don’t blame her. The thought of some surface apes defiling the divine form of even my hated aunt fills me with disgust and rage.”

“So why come to us to stop her,” Nessa asked bluntly, though her annoyance was gone, she was genuinely curious.

“As much as it sickens me.” Thea continued. “My aunt… she is no longer my aunt. Whatever foul monster your people turned her into will destroy everything. When she destroys your kin I have no doubt she’ll turn her wrath on my mother’s kingdom for her part in contracting the Roche. She’ll drown this world and chum the seas with my people’s corpses for what your father did, and as much as I am loathe to ask him for help again the contract is still in effect as long as she remains alive, and I expect him to clean up his mess.”

“She’s right.” Ryan nodded softly. “I was desperate, and stupid, and because of that a narrow threat became even bigger. I’m sorry Alice, I wish I had fixed this before now but… I couldn’t, I wasn’t strong enough. Every time I tried to move on her I just…”

“You remembered mom.” Nessa completed the thought for him softly.

“Your mom, my siblings too. I never was able to prove it but… I think she made the spirit that killed them. I’ve lost so much to her I just kept thinking if I failed again she may come after you or Francis or Nessa or Patli or…” he sighed, shaking his head. “And now my cowardice means you’re in danger anyway.”

“She’s killed many,” Thea spoke again, for once sounding… smaller, less haughty and angry as she realized the reason for Ryan’s reluctance. “I lost three sisters in one of her attacks, my father as well. My mother almost fell too. As much as I blame you I also understand your desperation. She’s too great a foe to handle alone, especially with the scars of loss so fresh in your heart. So…” she coughed, standing, taking her regal attitude again. “You, lesser Roche, and whoever else you feel needed, will report to my mother to make a plan, before she can take any others.”

Alice nodded softly at that. “Alright, where? Your palace?”

Thea scoffed at that. “As if I would allow surface dwellers into my scared chambers, let alone one I barely know… No, we will open two clams with one stone.” she said as Nessa and Alice exchanged a look.

“Two birds one stone.” Ryan added helpfully.

“Oh, right, yea.” Alice nodded. “Continue.”

“I have come not just to chastise Roche for his cowardice… I also came to warn of an attack. My aunt has been acting from the shadows since her defeat before but now I fear she’s beginning to act personally. She is weak, though. Between the tortures your people inflicted on her and the fact that when she ‘died’ my family moved to… contain some of her more powerful relics.”

“To loot her palace after she died.” Nessa corrected with a smirk. “How very ‘primitive’ of you.”

“We kept her divine artifacts from being stumbled upon by your underdeveloped kin,” Thea shot back. “Regardless, my aunt is without much of her power, and will seek to regain it before she fully moves to strike. Unfortunately we were not alone in that plan to keep her power from returning. Your little friends in Cheron have taken one of my aunt’s possessions and I believe as much as she hates you and I for our parts in her demise…”

“She hates Cheron more, so she’ll start there.” Alice continued for her, the other woman nodding.

“Correct. We will intercept whatever agent she sends to retake it and find out what they know.”

“Not that I have a feeling you’re morally above torture...” Nessa said calmly as she ran a finger through her still damp hair, “But why are you so sure you’ll get your information from this agent?”

Thea grinned wickedly at that, her fanged smile seeming to shimmer brighter than her dress for a moment. “My dear, as I said, two clams with one rock… I will not be interrogating them, that task will be handled by my mother personally.”

Elsewhere

Far off from the safety of the Roche manor, in a small research station floating in international waters, a storm was rolling in.

This was no storm any meteorologist could predict, or any mundane protection could keep out. It was a storm born of rage and vengeance as waves crashed against the support structures and winds howled outside their shuttered windows.

Through the fog and spray of seafoam the massive spotlights of the station could make out a lone form. A woman’s upper half cresting the water, her hair a mane of windswept fury as lightning crashed into the water around her seemingly literally unable to touch her properly.

She didn’t roar with anger or cast some grand curse on the inhabitants as they stared in horror at her. She simply sat in the water, bobbing gently in all the chaos as if not even a part of it.

She simply watched, and waited, letting the storm speak for her. A queen doesn’t  need to speak for herself, after all, when her power can speak for her.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Song of the Smiling Knight

Andre Gilbert was a legendary figure even in life. A mountain of a man, striding across the battlefield with his head uncovered, showing a madman’s grin as he cleaved through his enemies with ease. He became a hero to his people, a source of inspiration to frightened soldiers and motivation to keep fighting.

Unfortunately even legends fall in time, struck down by another who would grow to be a legend in his own lands. The cycle continued, and for a long time there was peace for Andre’s weary soul.

Until she came.

All was calm and serene for so long, and then that voice, that… soft... sweet… voice. Andre heard the tales of witches, horrible hags cackling in the moonlight, but this voice was so kind and loving, how could he not trust it?

Then, just as suddenly the voice was gone, as was his peace, and he was alone in the field he fell in... a time long beyond any he recognized.

Was it any wonder that frayed him a bit?

A Remote Part of France

“Sooooo...” Patli’s bright voice carried across the open field well. “Can you see the future?”

Francis sighed lightly, rolling his eyes behind his dark lenses. “I can’t see anything, Patli.”

“Not even dark?”

“I don’t know what ‘dark’ is.”

“... Spooky.”

“Dare I ask why you asked?” He continued, cane bouncing off a small divot in the ground the he hopped over gracefully.

“Well, I mean… blind people are often seers. Mom says there were some priests who plucked their eyes out to see the stars better.”

“Can you see the future, then?” He retorted.

“No, but mine don’t count, I got new ones.” Patli smirked, poking the side of her head, her eyes vanishing into darkness inside her head only to be replaced with small green pinpricks of flame. “See?”

“No.” Francis answered flatly.

“Oh… right, yea… Well I can see just fine! In fact my spirit eyes let me look into the spirit world whenever I want to.”

“... Have you not been using them before just now?”

“No?”

Francis let out a low sigh at that, rubbing his head with his empty hand. “Patli we’re hunting a spirit and you didn’t think to start out using your spirit eyes?!”

There was a bit of a pause before the smaller girl gasped softly. “Ooooh! Right!”

“I was hoping at least if you were going to be constantly talking and dulling my hearing you were at least using your spirit vision…”

“Well I forgot okay?!”

“You forgot your lack of eyes?!”

“Well yea, don’t you ever forget you’re blind? It’s just normal!”

“No! I’ve literally never once forgotten I was blind!”

The pair went back and forth as they walked, Alice unable to hide her snickering as she heard them even in the distance.

“Oh gods what are they doing?” Nessa groaned, recognizing the look on Alice.

“Nothing, they just sound EXACTLY like we did when we first started training together…”

“Oh, so Francis is being a haughty little brat then...” Nessa smirked, nudging Alice lightly.

“Mhm, and Patli’s too eager to show off her cool tricks to remember her one job is to support the blind person.” Alice winked, bumping her back.

“Careful, if those two wind up together too, your fancy little French noble line is gonna get all weird and Aztec-y.”

“Oh yea, hate to imagine a world where the Roche family is weird…"

“Just saying, when our great grand nephews are holding ritual pyres to celebrate the harvest don’t blame me. You Roches are insatiable for Aztec girls it seems.”

Meanwhile, as the two older hunters flirted, Patli and Francis were currently… rolling across the field, not quite as romantic as their siblings as they wrestled and yelled at each other.

“Call me that again you fancy pants jerk!” Patli yelped as she rolled down the slope, holding onto Francis’ shirt tightly to drag him with her.

“Happily! BIRD BRAIN!” He responded, trying to wiggle out of her hold as his cane whipped around behind him, thankfully held onto his wrist by a security strap. “Bird brain!” he repeated even as their bodies hit something solid together.

“Ow!” Patli groaned, holding her head. “I think your dumb cane hit me…”

“My… your stupid flailing feet must have hit ME!” Francis grunted in discomfort as he stood, rubbing his side.

“Yea well you’ll know when my feet hit you in one sec-...” Patli started before Francis held his hand up.

“Hold up…” he said, sounding more serious as he adjusted his glasses. “Do you smell that?”

Thankfully rather than make some comment about Francis ‘fancy shampoo’ or the like, Patli recognized the shift in tone, frowning as she shook her head. “No. I mean I smell the wild flowers, the grass, the dirt… all normal field stuff.”

“There’s something else… where are we?”

Patli took the time to assess the surroundings finally, realizing how far off track they’d gotten in their fight. “Oh… shit we’re way off the path, oh man Nessa’s gonna kick my ass…”

“No, I mean is there anything near us? What’d we hit?”

“Uh it’s…a rock? A big rock… Wait this is a REALLY big rock, ONE really big rock, that’s weird isn’t it?”

The two were standing in front of a massive stone monolith. Just as Patli said it was one big stone, carved by expert hands ages ago, covered by moss and other signs of age…

“Does it have writing on it? Help me out here Patli. You need to be my eyes.”

“Right right, one sec.” Patli said, the two moved on from their fight quickly as they realized how much they need the other’s talents.

In a flash Patli was scaling the monolith, fingers not even needing holds as she seemed to fly up it, scanning for signs. “No writing... it looks like there was paint but it’s really old and faded…” She huffed. “There’s a hole at the top though, I’m checking it out.”

Francis quietly had to admit when the girl focused she was actually quite good at communicating… Right up until the cry of ‘heads up!’ A split-second later something heavy thumped against the earth in front of him.

“Damn it Patli! Again, blind! I can’t see when you’re throwing crap!”

“I said heads up!”

“Yea like a second before!” Francis huffed, crouching down to feel the object. It was small, round, and smooth. It felt cold despite obviously being in the sun in its position…

“Huh,” he mused. “Hey Patli what color is this?”

“Black. Like really shiny black, like Nessa’s knife... but it’s not obsidian, I know that.”

Francis felt the thing in his hand a bit more. She was right, obsidian is a more brittle feeling, hard to get this round without chips and cracks… "Hm...” he mused before bringing the stone to his mouth, licking it quickly.

“EW!” Patli shouted from her perch on the rock. “And you call me gross?!”

“Shut up! It’s how I can tell stuff, I’ve got a good tongue...” Francis huffed, blushing a bit, smacking his lips softly. “Huh… this is onyx…”

“The gem?” Patli asked, slowly floating down to join him. “Weird, what’s it mean?” She asked. Despite making fun of his ‘fanciness’ she knew his time in the library paid off for things like this.

“Typically means strength and absorbing negative energies… You said this is a big rock right? I think this might be marking a warrior’s grave…”

“Like The Smiling Knight?” Patli perked up.

“Could be. Nessa said he was a local legend, it’d make sense for him to be honored with a grave symbolizing strength and keeping him safe from negative magics.”

“Didn’t work well if he’s walking around now.” Patli smirked.

“Well, magic wears off. This thing’s pretty small, it may have been part of a bigger idol that got lost or stolen.” Francis offered. “Well if this is his grave the entrance is around here too, can you.”

Before he even finished it Patli was giggling, flying into the air. “Watch out!” She called, thankfully a bit better than before as she gave Francis enough time to scramble out of the way before she let out a loud shriek, enough to make the surrounding recon team cover their ears.

The shriek was effective, though, as horrific and banshee-like as it was, it was also effective at sending the moss and grass that covered the hill that the monolith sat on flying. Soon enough the barrow was revealed, a once proud hill of dirt and clay compressed into a sturdy dome that the monolith stood atop like a crown. In front of it was an old wooden door, showing signs of its ancient age but still standing proud.

“Huh, looks like it is a grave. Good tongue, fancy boy...” Patli grinned, slapping Francis’ back as he came back to join her.

“Yea yea...” he huffed. “Good death scream too, you’ve gotten better at it.” He added.

“Aw… you like me!” The girl teased, walking to the door and pushing it open as Francis sputtered a few times behind her.

“What?! I just said your death scream was better.”

“Yea, which is nicer than ‘bird brain.’” she teased as her eyes once again lit up with their flames.

“Well ‘good tongue’ is nicer than calling me a dumb fancy jerk! So what do you like me too?!”

“Maybe I d-...” Patli’s teasing grin faded quickly as she realized what she was seeing. “How many ghosts are we after, Francis?”

“Uh, one?” He answered incredulously, though grateful for the change in topic.

“There’s… more than one.”

The barrow was small inside, most of the mound’s mass being exterior, leaving just one single burial chamber where a stone sarcophagus surrounded by jars and baskets of tribute sat proudly.

There was only one sarcophagus, but far more ghosts lingering around. The Smiling Knight was there, standing in front of his burial site, surrounded by ghosts that seemed to be from all ages past.

Peasants, nobles, modern farmers, students, soldiers, there must have been almost fifty of them crammed into the tight space as the knight’s ghost held court. Nearly seven feet tall, wearing the shining armor he died in, a now rictus looking grin stretching his mouth wide as his ghostly blue form turned to stare at Patli.

“Have you brought the song?” He asked in a raspy, almost pained sounding, voice. “Have you returned my music?”

“Uh… no?” Patli said, stepping back, putting herself between the spirits and Francis before whispering back “Can that sword cut ghosts?”

“Alice said…”

“And I say, can that sword cut ghosts?” She hissed.

“The silver edge is better for it but it can be tricky still.” Francis responded as he pulled the blade out, feeling the danger around him.

“Stay by me, don’t move unless I do… there’s a LOT of ghosts and I don’t think they’re… well.”

“Where is the song?” The knight’s voice raised, the other ghosts turning to face them as he spoke loud enough for Francis to hear as well. “Are you the one who took it from me?!”

“I don’t know what song you mean, spirit...” Patli spoke, trying to speak with authority even as bits of the wall near her chipped off due to the ghost’s voice. “But I don’t take songs. I am a priestess, a warrior like you, and I’ve come to guide you to the afterlife.”

“I cannot return!” The ghost roared, Francis covering his ears as the booming voice echoed around him. “I will not return to the void, the silence! I cannot! I must have my song!”

“Shit, Patli this is too much, this tomb’s one giant bowl and his voice is…” Francis groaned, unable to focus on anything as the sound around him rocked his senses.

“Yea, come on...” Patli answered, stepping back, guiding him to the door.

“The thieves flee with the song!” The knight roared, pointing to them. “Stop them, servants of the Lady!”

The other ghosts surged forward at that, more mindless seeming than the knight, and devoted to his command as the pair stumbled back. “Damn it, okay fancy boy, change of plans. Sword up!” Patli  said over her shoulder.

“What?” Francis asked, raising his sword as she instructed.

“Focus, okay? We’ve got ghosts coming at us! You NEED to focus, we won't be getting to the door and I’m about to make your sword into a lightsaber so I REALLY don’t want you to get me with it.”

Francis was still fairly confused, but nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to put aside the moaning and the knight’s roaring commands that muddled his senses. He felt the heat from his sword as Patli slid her palm along the blade, spreading blood across it that caused it to ignite in green flame just like Nessa used. 

“Can you feel them?”

He nodded. It was hard, but he could. The heat of the sword helped, he could feel the chill of the spirits, and Patli’s body heat for contrast. He heard her breath, smelled the grave dirt scent that seemed to cling to the ghosts. It wasn’t perfect, but he could keep from decapitating his fellow hunter at least.

“Alright, good! Now we’re gonna go forward, and we’re not stopping until we hit the knight, got it?”

He nodded, taking a high stance he practiced so many times before, now finally using it in real combat…

The fighting was hard at first, the ghosts weren’t very difficult, more like spectral zombies than anything, motivated by mindless hunger and their master’s command more than any tactics, but fighting in close spaces with someone so different took adjusting. At first Patli’s rapid movements disoriented him, her footfalls and cackles of combat throwing off his aim.

He was too slow for Patli as well, every time she tried to bounce off him or weave around him they seemed out of sync. Soon, though, the two found their rhythm, Patli making more precise movements Francis could read better, and Francis fighting more aggressively to work with her.

If any of Andre’s mind remained intact he would have recognized two young warriors growing together, even felt pride that the ways he learned as a youth, in some form, were still alive in his home.

Unfortunately, all that dominated his mind was the silence that somehow rang louder than the battle around him. The absence of the song was a weight on his soul he couldn’t remove, and it drove him mad with anger as he began to see these children as the forces keeping the song from him.

“YOU WILL RETURN THE SONG!” He roared as the final ghost fell to Francis’ glowing blade, bringing his own great axe down brutally at the pair.

Francis grunted as he held his blade up, hearing that massive axehead slice through the stale air fast enough to block it, though the effort to hold it back made his arms shake…

“We don’t have a song! What are you talking about?!” Francis groaned, knocking the ghost’s blade away to get some distance. “We can help you find the song!” he tried. “Just stop attacking and tell us what it was!”

“My lips would defile the song of my Lady if I spoke it!” He growled, lunging forward as Francis dipped aside, letting him stumble past.

“I’m not fuckin Shazam here, buddy! Going to need a little more to work with!” Francis shouted back.

He knew this wasn’t helping, he could tell the ghost was beyond any help. He could, however, buy time, keep his attention as Patli went to work with ‘Plan B’ for ghosts.

The girl slipped past the fighting pair, pushing the heavy lid of the sarcophagus aside to reveal the skeleton within. For a moment she felt a pang of sympathy for him. Tucked so reverently into the burial spot, his armor polished one final time, axe in hand, he clearly was a man of great honor for his people before this.

“May you fight eternally in the realm of the gods, great warrior. Be free of this madness...” she whispered before reaching into her pocket for a pouch of blessed salt, pouring it over his bones.

The ghost shuddered as if feeling some discomfort, groaning as he stopped his swing halfway to glare at Patli. “Disturb not my bones, song thief!” He shouted, lunging at her only to stop as Francis lept on him from behind, plunging his enchanted blade into the ghost’s back as deep as he could.

“Do it Patli!” He shouted, holding on for dear life as he was bucked back and forth like he was riding a mechanical bull.

In a flash, green flames washed over the bones, a wail of anguish coming from the ghost as his body and spirit began to fade together.

“Rest.” Francis grunted as he hopped off the ghost’s back. “Your time has passed, let the calm of eternity soothe your broken mind.”

“You will be honored as a warrior should be, a more dignified fate than this...” Patli added, and for a brief moment the pair could see that smile soften, the madman’s grin fading into a more genuine, relaxed, smile as he felt himself vanish.

“Easy hunt my ass.” Patli panted, the strain of manifesting that fire as well as keeping Francis’ sword alight starting to wear her down.

“Take my arm.” Francis offered, sheathing his blade again as he moved to support her.

“This some fancy pants chivalry?” Patli teased, a bit weaker than she usually did as Francis rolled his eyes, the two making their way out of the barrow together much more unified than they came down the hill to it, at least.

Outside Harlow’s team was already surrounding things, having moved in when they realized the pair were taking too long, but not hearing any signs of distress that’d make them come in… not that Harlow wasn’t ready, hand gripping his pistol’s handle in the holster tight enough to make his knuckles turn white…

“I see them coming out.” Tatyana offered, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think they’re okay.” She smiled, hoping to relax him so the pair didn’t see him so concerned.

“Yea… never doubted it.” Harlow answered with a soft sigh, giving her a grateful look before composing himself just as the pair staggered out. There’d be time for debriefing and reports later, for now all he cared about was getting the two home safely.

As the Roche helicopter took off peace did return to the area, no trace of the spirit remaining as he was finally laid to rest properly once again. Though that peace wasn’t as welcome to everyone as it was to the locals. Deep in the nearby river a figure stirred, snarling in anger as she felt her magic fading away with the spirit.

The lands of France have many legacies.

Legacies of heroes, of hunters, new and old figures carving their own tales into its history. It also has a long legacy of beasts, creatures older than many kingdoms, older than France itself as an entity. They have their own legacies to live up to, and as a skeletal, clawed, hand scraped the now useless sigil that once reanimated the knight, yet another scion of such legacies was rising. After all, some things were best done personally.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

First Day in the Field

A Remote Part of France

The far end of the Roche yard was a hub of activity, like it usually was before a hunt. Harlow and his forces were moving about quickly, making sure their information was getting spread to the right people. With them were Nessa’s security team, the Roche security force technically under her mother’s command proper still but as Nessa grew Ana took more and more of an ‘advisory’ role to let her daughter grow.

“Alright boys and girls look alive!” Harlow called as he walked along the crowd. “This is a big day! Young master Francis will be going on the field for the first time, as will our dear Patli, and that means what?” He asked, grinning his wicked grin as his team called back in unison.

“No fuckups allowed!”

“Damn right!” He chuckled, nodding approvingly. “We also have some freshies with our teams today, hell of a first day newbies. Try not to scare em off, we don’t make our money back on their training until after a couple weeks.”

Indeed, there were new faces in both teams. Despite their intense work the Roche kept their recon and security teams fairly small, quality over quantity and all that. Exclusively recruited from fields with the relevant skills already, picking candidates already somehow aware of ‘the other world’ to avoid wasting time teaching the basics.

Harlow and Nessa both surveyed their groups, each exchanging a bit of a smirk with the other as they easily spotted the new ones. Even those well used to the supernatural could feel overwhelmed on their first Roche mission, especially one as high priority as this.

“Hey, newbie.” Harlow grinned, grabbing the arm of a passing young woman, long black hair tied into a tight bun behind her head, bright green eyes going wide as she was grabbed, body stiffening like a board. “Report in, name and position.”

“Tatyana Ivanov, just joined the recon team, Sir!” She nearly shouted in Harlow’s face, making the man laugh softly.

“Soldier?” He asked with a smirk.

“Yes sir!”

“Great, first thing, don’t ever ‘Sir’ me. I work for a living, save the Sir and Ma’am crap for dealing with the family proper. Good response though. How long have you been doing this kind of work?” He asked, clearly not meaning soldiering.

The woman coughed softly, still not used to talking about these things openly it seemed. “I was raised by my grandmother, Si-... Harlow,” She corrected herself quickly. “She… knew a lot about the old ways, so I always was raised to respect them. Like I said, though, I was in the military… We were doing a scouting mission in the forest and these…” She shuddered, shaking her head to clear it. “We were attacked by creatures not of this world… I was the only one to make it out. When I reported what happened to the command I was told I had a new assignment and… here I am.”

“Must have served under commander Popov, he’s an old family friend. Tends to send us the ones he thinks has potential who get... exposed.”

Tatyana actually straightened up a bit, seemingly bolstered to hear she had ‘potential’.

“Well, welcome to recon.” Harlow continued. “You’re going to see a lot more ‘creatures not of this world.' Keep your head on your shoulders and do as you’re told and you’ll do well. Remember, despite everything weird these are still just recon missions at the end of the day, you were trained for this.”

She nodded, seeming to genuinely take his words to heart before pausing. “Sir… Harlow… a question?”

“Fire away.”

“You said save the sir and ma’am for the family… are you not a Roche? I was told you’re one.”

Harlow smirked softly at that, chuckling and nodding. “Lesson two, careful with curiosity. It’s a good trait for recon, obviously, but ask too many questions you don’t need and you might just get the answer, sure you wanna know?”

Tatyana gulped softly, but nodded.

“Good girl...” he grinned, reaching up to remove his sunglasses to reveal… nothingness, simply two small pools of inky black. A void where his eyes should be. “I’m a Roche, by name, not blood. I’m a changeling that the family adopted.”

“Oh!” The woman said a bit too loudly, blushing faintly. “I was not aware they… I mean I know they had a more liberal relation with the supernatural than most hunters but… I wasn’t aware they adopted them.”

“I’m a bit of a special case. I was taken by the gentry when I was a baby. Raised in Arcadia. I never knew my family, I think I might have been Polish before I was taken but…” He shrugged, putting his sunglasses back on. “I ripped myself out of the hedge still as a child and found myself ‘free’ running right into a Cheron Group outpost.”

“Oh…” she responded in a softer tone that time, clearly aware of them at least.

“Yea… Ryan and Ilsa found me a fucked up kid who’d been bounced from being a fae’s plaything to a lab rat and rather than just cutting me lose with a ‘good luck kid’ like most hunters, they took me home with them. From that day I made a vow… capital ‘V’ Vow, ya know? I promised I’d always protect the Roche family as if they were my own blood, and they made their own to raise me and treat me as if I was no different than any other Roche child.” He smiled softly at that, the normally cocky or teasing young man looking slightly melancholy as he remembered.

“So! That’s why I’m here, making sure you fresh meat don’t fuck up my vow by letting our dear Roche heirs get ganked on the field!” he said, clearly trying to move on from the emotional subject.

“Of course, mister Harlow!” Tatyana smiled, giving him a salute before moving to join the others. She paused, though, looking back. “In Russia we believe the fae aren’t all good or evil, they’re like humans. Some can be cruel and untrustworthy, yes, but others can be noble heroes… It’s nice to see that story is one of the true ones.”

Harlow smiled as he watched the woman go join the rest of the recon team, a rare moment of letting his guard down when he didn’t notice Nessa coming up behind him and slapping his back playfully.

“Nice group of newbies on my end, seems like they’ve got their shit together. You?”

“Yea...” Harlow chuckled, composing himself quickly. “Think mine are gonna make it too.”

The hunt had been carefully selected, a joint effort by the recon and security teams to get the most controlled environment possible.

“Uh, boss, with all due respect… isn’t this kinda… cheating?” One of Nessa’s new recruits asked, a young man with bright red hair combed and gelled neatly, bearing a tattoo on his neck of the RAF. “I mean… not to talk outta ranks and all but this is supposed to be a hunt, right? We’re securing a whole area, making sure there’s just one thing there, practically serving it up on a platter for em…”

“No no, it’s good to ask.” Nessa answered as she motioned for more of her forces to get in position. The field they chose was a nice open one, former farmland now public land. It wasn’t very commonly used, it took a good few weeks for reports of what sounded like a fairly mundane ghost to even filter through to the Roches. It was perfect for a first training hunt.

“This is a learning hunt, not a real one.” she continued. “This is about giving the kids field experience in a safe, controlled, way while still empowering them and making them FEEL like they did something major. As far as the kids are concerned, we do not exist. You and the recon team will remain hidden, only coming out if a threat is present… and even then I expect you try to remove it quietly first. Call it cheap or cheating or whatever... but this lets a pair of, may I remind you, literal children get their feet wet in hunting without running the risk of being ripped in half by a werebear. I’d consider that a good goal, yes?”

The man nodded softly. “Right, apologies ma’am didn’t mean to question things.”

“No, questioning is good, and now that you have your answer I hope that means you’ll be joining the rest of your team covering the south gate to be sure no mortals or unknown factors barge in.” Nessa smirked, patting the man’s chest playfully. “Dismissed, soldier boy, back to work.” He chuckled at that, nodding quickly before jogging to meet with the others, he and his team in civilian clothes, looking like hunters of the mundane sort who had made a small camp near the field to hunt in. It was a fairly common sight in the country, most wouldn’t think anything of it or want to bother them, good cover for them as their trained eyes kept watch for any real threats.

Harlow’s team was more covert in their positions. Having done the heavy lifting of study and scouting only a few remained on the field proper to keep watch, protected by ghillie suits and enchanted tools to make them blend into the field nicely.

Tatyana had chosen a more mundane method. A tree blind, covered carefully to hide the already rather petite woman as she crouched on the blind’s seat for stability. Only a detailed look would reveal the faint gleam of a rifle’s barrel sticking through the strands of the blind.

“Watch out! It’s coming right for them!” A voice called right in her ear, making the woman nearly leap out of her position but thankfully kept from pulling the trigger in her panic at least!

“Nice trigger discipline,” the voice continued in a much calmer tone…Harlow smirking at her playfully as he seemed to be balancing perfectly on a thin branch next to her seat…

“Mister Harlow! That is… you can’t sneak up on someone holding a sniper rifle!” She panted, recovering from her scare.

“No it’s actually very easy to, as I just showed. Tunnel vision, dear. Your entire world was through that scope, which meant you were one giant blindspot everywhere else.” He grinned, grabbing an apple from the nearby branch and biting into it. “Good job not winging Nessa or something though, woulda been awkward to tell Alice.”

“What if I did?!” She asked wide eyed, having not even thought that in that fear a stray bullet could have hit an actual ‘VIP’...

“I mean… then Alice would probably kill you...” Harlow answered casually as he took another bite. “Like I said, good job not.”

“With due respect, Sir...” she said, pointedly using that word this time… "Did you come here just to see if I’d shoot your sister’s girlfriend?”

“No… not JUST, no.” Harlow smirked, hopping down to sit on the branch as he did. “Also came to quiz you. Situation report, go!”

Tatyana rolled her eyes, quickly becoming used to her boss at least… "We’re awaiting the arrival of Lady Roche, young master Roche, and…uh… Patli? I don’t know her title…”

“We call her ‘little shit’ mainly, you’re fine. Continue.”

“Right, their ETA is about ten minutes from now provided good conditions. When they arrive Commander Nessa will meet them, explain the hunt, and she and Alice will supervise the young master and… little shit…”

“Good, good...” Harlow nodded, tossing his apple core over his shoulder, though it turned to dust before hitting the ground. "... and what is the hunt?”

“Locals reported a ghostly figure, not disturbing anything or attacking mortals but scaring local livestock and being… creepy I guess. The description matches a local legend of ‘The Smiling Knight’, a soldier from the Frank and English wars who was known for… obviously… wearing no helmet and always smiling even in the thick of combat. A harmless local legend, no reported dangers or casualties… unless you count English soldiers hundreds of years ago I guess.”

“We do not, serves those tits right.” Harlow teased, nodding. “Good, you’d be shocked how far just reading the briefings will get you. So, let’s try a little past the briefings. Got a ghost, not harmful but probably not great to have just messing around anyway, how would you solve it?”

“Solve it?” She asked, confused by the metaphor.

“Solve it.” Harlow repeated. “Hunts are puzzles. They have solutions, sometimes multiple ones. It’s not always just ‘kill the monster’. How would you solve this one?”

Tatyana thought about that seriously for a moment. “Well, he’s not harming anyone, but like you said it’s likely not GOOD for him to be around… In Russia many believe ghosts that linger too long can be driven mad and if he’s that old he may be at risk of that… Many ghosts have unfinished business, I would see about resolving that, if I can do so peacefully I would hope that would allow him to rest.”

Harlow nodded slowly as she spoke. “Not bad... So a peaceful rest for him, huh? Why? Why does this one deserve that, what’s he done or not done to earn that effort when it’d be easier to just banish him?”

“He was a soldier.” Tatyana answered softly, looking at her own rifle. “He was fighting for his people. Right or wrong, he died among comrades believing he was protecting his home. I don’t know anything about this war, frankly. Maybe he was the aggressor, maybe he doesn’t deserve it, but in his last moments he was far from home facing a foe he likely believed wanted to destroy his homeland and loved ones. He deserves at least a chance to rest peacefully after all that.”

“Deserves a chance, huh?” Harlow smirked, patting the woman’s shoulder. “You’re gonna fit in well here. Ease up a bit, being tense reduces focus.”

The helicopter arrived on schedule perfectly, the two children nearly leaping out before it was even fully grounded. “Easy! This isn’t a school field trip, this is work.” Alice called after them with a smirk as she climbed out, Nessa quickly striding up to meet them. The young hunters were dressed for comfort, Francis in a pair of baggy shorts and a loose shirt, his cane clacking on the ground as he got the lay of the land. Patli was dressed similarly, whistling loudly before taking a deep breath, smelling the air around her. “Ahhh it smells so nice out here!” The girl chirped happily.

“Alright kids, front and center!” Alice called, her and Nessa taking a decidedly more authoritative tone than their usual ones as they watched over the pair. “You are here to study the art of hunting, not sniff the air and pick flowers.” she said, throwing a glance with a smirk to Francis as she heard the boy crouching down to smell a patch of wildflowers. “Nessa?”

“Our job today is a simple spectral sighting...” Nessa picked up the speech, chuckling at her own alliteration. “Locals have seen a ghostly figure matching a legend of ‘The Smiling Knight’, an old figure of local history that seems to be harmless so far.” “Remember.” Alice continued. “We are Roches, not some common glorified mercenary hunter clan.” she grinned, sharing a playful look with Nessa as they both thought of a few examples of those… "Our job and sacred duty to France is to bring ORDER to both worlds, not to DOMINATE.”

“Correct you Roches, save that for the bedroom!” Nessa added ‘helpfully’, making Alice blush slightly and the younger hunters laugh.

“Anyways...” Alice continued, slapping Nessa’s side with her cane lightly. “As I said, we bring order, not dominance. We are hunters, not inherently killers, even of the already dead. Remember that being on the field at this young an age is a privilege, not a right, and one that WILL be revoked if you prove to have not absorbed your lessons deeper than ‘fight monsters and look good.' Are we clear children? We may be your nice big sisters in the house but on the field we are your superior hunters and you will listen to and follow my and Nessa’s commands to the letter or…”

“Archives until pension...” the pair answered in unison.

“Good kids.” Alice grinned.

Soon enough the pair were briefed and sent on their way, the unseen eyes of their family tracking every step as Alice and Nessa remained by the helicopter to allow the kids freedom and to watch their backs. This was meant to be a nice, simple, way for them to learn, but as any veteran hunter knows well even the most simple job can become a trial by fire with only a few strokes of luck.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

The Dusty Man

The Wulfshead Club, the Day After the Fight in Cincinnati

The group had not slept well. Tex and Stephy had spent most of the night awake, only going to bed as the sun crept over the horizon. Sammi had gone to bed early, his hollow already protected from unwanted entry (most vampires wouldn’t even be able to find the door) but once he had rested he had called in several favors to ensure that the Smith residence was being guarded as well. Any undead who drew close would find several very nasty surprises waiting for them.

Currently however the trio was seated across a table from someone they knew very well, as they worked out what they were going to do to address this situation.

“So. Lemme get this straight. You kids fought two rogue vampires, heard a rumor from one of them that someone staked the leader of Cincinnati’s vampires, and rather than call me you went to investigate it on your own and had to use the Wulfshead door to escape a mob of angry undead.” sighed an older man as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He wore a black teeshirt, bluejeans, and a ballcap on his head, his face covered by a beard that was starting to show some grey mixed in with the black, the palms of his hands showing a strange scar in the shape of a sigil.

Stephy shrugged, “I mean… I wanted to be sure that the rumor was true. That vampire wasn’t exactly a reliable person.” he replied. The changeling princess was wearing a loose white silken tunic and a long blue skirt with slip on shoes, favoring whatever would let him transform easily given the current situation.

“Yeah, bonkers incel who apparently read Twilight too much and thought that being a vampire would get women fawning over him by default who you threw into the Hedge, you said.” nodded the man in response.

“Dang right Nelen!” interjected Tex, the young man wearing a white teeshirt and bluejeans himself, along with sturdy combat boots, a winter coat draped over the back of his chair. “We can’t just keep comin’ to ya whenever shit happens. I mean, ya’ll got enough to deal with after all that mess in Sri Lanka...” he sighed, blowing his lips out.

Nelen shrugged, leaning back in his own chair. “Eh, can’t pretend you’re not right Tex… Arja is still getting weird shit in the mail every week or so…” he sighed, “I swear you think cursing a few of those nutjobs would make the others hesitate, but man those lunatics are persistent.”

After all the photos that had appeared online following their battle with the manticore and all those who had managed pictures during the chaos in Thalassery and Sri Lanka some of their group had wound up with some internet fame. Arja had been amused at first… until the fan mail turned creepy, then downright disturbing and explicit. At first she’d wanted to use the Wulfshead to travel to the return addresses on several and go fire monkey on the senders, but Nelen and Rajesh had convinced her to let him handle it in a more indirect way (or at least a way that was less likely to cause legal consequences.)

Nelen had learned quite a few nasty tricks since his teenage years and given what some of the more disturbed fans had sent… well… they were practically begging to get a nasty hex and had even supplied what Nelen needed for a sympathetic connection for the magic. Nelen didn’t know if they were aware of how those things could be used for that, but after waking up to some rather severe boils in some rather uncomfortable places spelling out the words ‘FUCK OFF’ they letters had noticeably decreased… but still not enough to satisfy them all.

The email ones had more or less ceased since he employed his hacker friend Dev/Null, a rather talented computer jockey and vampire, to doxx several of them to their employers and family. It wasn’t very nice, but Nelen was getting fed up with the whole situation.

Nelen sat back up and drained half his drink, rum straight up this time. He normally didn’t drink much these days, but it had been a rather irritating week. “Yeah… I can’t really leave yet. We’ve actually caught a few of these guys sneaking around the house lately and Rajesh needs me there to back up his security team.” he nodded.

Stephy whined a bit, “They’re that dangerous?” asked the effeminate boy.

Nelen shook his head, “No, Arja is. She’s more pissed off about this than I am, and he needs me and Simoni to hold her back while his security team detains them for arrest. Creepers or not, murder is still illegal.”

Tex snorted a bit, “Yeah, that sounds like her.” he chuckled.

Nelen nodded, “Mmhmm…” he frowned, “I can’t leave Jaipur yet… but… I might be able to at least help you kids confirm who is behind all this shit so we know where to aim when I can.” he nodded, “I know a guy back home who might be able to help out.” he clarified, looking up as the song ended and the singer dismounted the stage, waving to everyone as the next person took her place for karaoke night.

The singer slid into the chair next to Nelen, then grinned widely at him as her yellow eyes sparkled with mischief. “I know that look… whats the plan big man?” asked Dawn, her tail swishing behind her.

“Dawn, I need you to take these two and Sam to meet Dusty.” he nodded.

Dawn’s grin, if anything, widened. “HAH! Dusty?! Oh man I haven’t seen him in ages! Oh this’ll be FUN!”

Stephy and Tex shared a look, then Stephy cocked his head, “Sorry… Dusty?”

Edgewood Kentucky, Later that Afternoon

The city of Edgewood (which was a bit overblown, it was actually quite small for a ‘city’) was often believed to be a pretty well off neighborhood by outsiders to the area, but the truth was a bit different. The parts of the city to the south were indeed pretty upper middle class yes, but the other end of town was anything but… and that’s where ‘Dusty’ lived.

“So… he’s sort of like a hedge mage?” asked Stephy as Dawn trudged through the snow from the bus stop with him, Tex, and Sammi following behind.

“Eh kinda.” replied Dawn, the cheshire cat in her human disguise, wearing a jacket over her teeshirt, a pair of baggy jeans that she could tuck her tail into, a sock hat to hide her feline ears, and a pair of aviator sunglasses to shade her clearly inhuman eyes. “More a crazy hillbilly druid, but basically a hedge mage.”

Sammi frowned, “… and just how exactly is some random mundane who learned a couple magical tricks going to help us unmask the culprit behind whats going on in Cincinnati?” he asked suspiciously.

Dawn grinned, “Oh he’s more than just that fancypants.” she replied, “But you’ll see when we get there.” she nodded as she turned down a street past a row of houses that looked like they might have been nice once before urban decay started to set in. They were still decent enough but looked like they had gone from 1980s sitcom white suburbia to Simpsons-esque parody of suburbia at some point. Clear spots where repair was needed but couldn’t be afforded, gardens full of weeds, and the like…

She came to one house and walked around back, down between the houses and out into the woods behind it as the others followed as close as they could.

“Alright, last time Nelen and I saw him he had his stuff set up right around…” she nodded, then suddenly there was a shriek and a whizzing sound. Tex and Stephy stumbled to a halt and looked up to see Sammi dangling upside down by a rope around his ankle hanging from a tree branch, having clearly set off a snare trap.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY DAMN PAWPAW TREES YA FUCKERS!” came a shout from the woods as a man limped into view. A shock of messy grey-white hair sticking out at all angles on his head and a scraggly beard half-covering his face as he hobbled into view, one hand holding him up with a cane, the other holding a handgun. “Huh? Oh… hey Dawn… where’s Nelen?” he asked, recognizing the feline as he holstered the gun.

Closer inspection showed a man with a teeshirt reading ‘Fuck your laws, I have a gun,’ a pair of much patched and worn jeans, thick snowboots, and a heavy jacket over a rather thin hunched frame. A grin from him showed that the majority of his teeth were gone too, leaving only a small group on his lower jaw.

“Dusty!” grinned the Cheshire, “How ya been man? Sorry we ain’t been around, shit’s been wiiiiiiiiiild!”

The older human nodded, chuckling, “Yep, saw on the news...” he replied, looking to the other three. “Who’re they?” he asked, nodding to them.

Dawn smirked, “Oh, these are Nelen’s cousin and their buddies. That’s Stephy Fullmoon.” she jerked her head towards Stephy, who waved awkwardly, “… that’s Stephy’s boyfriend, Tex…” she added as Tex nodded to him, his hands deep in his pockets, “… and the one hanging upside down and cursing in French is…” she started, but then Sammi cut her off.

“STOP PISSING ABOUT AND GET ME DOWN!”  he demanded, trying to slash the rope with his rapier, but the rope was too thick for the thin-bladed dueling sword.

A bit later, inside Dusty’s house

The house was actually a fairly decent two story house that they’d passed on the way into the woods, Dusty having inherited it when his mother retired from her career and moved south for the warm weather.

The interior wasn’t what they’d expected a hedge mage’s home to look like. Mostly it was just pictures of family, a slightly worn but still usable TV set, and the like. “So, this is ‘bout those vampires up in Cincy huh?” he asked as he sat on a large L shaped couch with the others, a coffee table infront of them holding several empty beer bottles, a bag of some sort of herb, a lighter and a pipe, and several other things, though nothing more unusual than a back issue of some old video game magazine.

Stephy nodded, “Yeah, we tried to look into it ourselves but… didn’t go so great.” he replied, his cheeks flushing a bit as Dusty took the pipe, lit it, breathed in, then coughed loudly and punched his chest a few times. Under his jacket he was almost skeletal thin with long gangly arms, his back clearly in bad shape as well.

Dusty nodded, “Yeah, squirrels told me ‘bout that. Said that someone kicked up the hornet’s nest up there.” he replied, taking another pull on the pipe.

Tex watched the pipe curiously, then asked, “Sorry, whats that? Is it supposed to be some sort o’ magical stuff that’ll let ya use your powers?” he asked.

Dusty smirked and chuckled, his shoulders shaking as Dawn grinned at that. “Well... ya’ll could call it magic…” replied the older man with a twinkle in his eye.

Dawn grinned, “Its weed. Dusty has been smoking since he and Nelen were in high school together.” she explained.

The three of them looked to her, then Stephy and Tex stared at him as Sammi smirked, leaning back in his chair.

“Wait… what?! Nelen isn't even thirty yet!” exclaimed Stephy, “Is… um… is it a side effect of your magic? The back, the hair, the teeth?” he asked.

Dusty shook his head, “Nah, just genetics. My pappy was the same way.” he replied, knocking his pipe out over the ashtray, then getting up and picking up his cane. “Shitty genes, shitty back.” he shrugged, “… ‘n the pipe. Fucked up my teeth. Anyhoo, I know what ya’ll need… be right back.” he nodded, hobbling into the kitchen.

Stephy blushed, looking down at his lap and feeling rather awkward. That was embarrassing, probably something he had to deal with a lot. If they had to guess they would have assumed he was at least in his late fifties.

Dawn shrugged, “Dusty had a pretty crazy life for a mundane after he and Nelen stopped hanging out. He had to help take care of his dad, Nelen had to run like all hell away from his granddad, yanno.” she explained, “Aged him bad from what Nelen said.”

Dusty nodded and hobbled back in, carrying a large bowl with a knife, a bag of something, and a cutting board in it. “Ayup. Shit happened.” he nodded, sitting back down. He picked up a stick out of a box next to the couch and emptied the bowl, then broke it over the bowl and let the twigs fall into it. It wasn’t a special bowl, it wasn’t covered in magic runes or made from some unusual metal… just an ordinary ceramic bowl like you’d find in any kitchen. The cutting board was likely bought at Walmart, and the knife was the same mass-produced kind you’d see in any store.

Stephy was getting more confused, Nelen wouldn’t send them on a wild goose chase, would he? “Um… what are those for?” he asked.

“The thingy.” replied Dusty as he opened the bag and fished out a large red pepper, just big enough to sit in his hand. It was dried, likely a while ago, but still very useable and full of seeds.

“The thingy?” asked Tex as he looked at the pepper, then leaned forward, “Hey, I recognize that! My mom grew some of those. ‘s a Tailed Beast I think. We made some chili out of ‘em, knocked my dang socks off!”

Dusty grinned toothlessly, “Oh? Yeah I grow ‘em ‘n sell ‘em.” he nodded, laying it on the cutting table and cutting it open, then snapping his fingers. “Ah shit, forgot. Hang on.” he got up and hobbled his way back to the kitchen, then came back with two unopened beers from the fridge, sitting them on the endtable away from the bowl.

“What are the beers for?” asked Stephy.

“For after the thingy.” he replied, cutting several seeds out of the pepper. “Yanno how they tell ya to not eat the seeds?” he asked, holding them in his hand.

The group nodded at him, sharing a look.

“This is why.” he grinned, then stuffed them all in his mouth in one go and chewed as best as he could with his remaining teeth!

Tex grimaced at that, Stephy staring at him, though Sammi felt more confused. “That… seems quite unwise.” he commented.

Dawn just grinned, ducking back quickly. “You miiiiiiiiiight wanna get back a bit further guys.” she pointed out.

“Uh… why?” asked Stephy as they immediately began backing away, then they smelled it.

Capsaicin. The chemical in peppers that gave them their spiciness. Originally peppers likely developed it for self-defense against predators, if a rodent took a bite of a pepper it wouldn’t likely take another as it ran screaming in pain.

But evolution is funny, and it eventually created a species of rather clever apes… who apparently had some serious masochistic tendencies.

The Tailed Beast wasn’t any ordinary pepper. Dusty's own special creation, the raw seeds could burn holes in walls if you prepared them right! This one was special even by their standards. In this case… they could burn holes through time and space itself!

Sweat was pouring down Dusty’s face, which was now even redder than the pepper. He looked to be in severe distress, but he shook his head frantically if the group looked like they were moving to help him.

Finally, after what felt like FAR too long he leaned quickly forward, gripped the bowl, and opened his mouth wide as a wave of fire blasted out of it onto the sticks, igniting them into a miniature bonfire on the table!

The flames rose high above the table, almost licking the ceiling, and in the flames they saw a scene…

Sometime ago, in Cincinnati…

A gathering of the undead had come to this theater. Several of the cities more prominent and powerful figures and their lackeys, their ghouls, and whoever else they felt worth bringing.

This wasn’t a movie theater though, it was the old kind of stage where plays were held… a long forgotten one in a building that was never getting torn down as it was labeled as a historical building, but one that nobody really knew what to do with so it mostly stood empty.

Onto the stage walked a young looking man in a rather impressive suit. Pants, jacket, and tie black as night, but the shirt red as blood. He wore several rings on his fingers as well… but he moved oddly, like someone who didn’t really know how to wear a suit. The suit was impressive, he gave the impression of a kid playing dress up.

He got to the podium on the stage, then grinned and showed his fangs before he said, “LISTEN UP EVERYONE! Archibald is dead! I fucking killed and ate him! As of right fucking now I’m the boss of Cincinnati’s vampires!” he said into the microphone, and off stage someone groaned audibly.

“Starting tonight, the old rules ‘bout hiding from humans and pretending we’re not vampires are OVER!” he slammed his fist down on the podium, then winced and shook his hand before continuing, “Anyone who doesn’t like it, get the fuck outta Cincinnati or my boys will stake your ass. Anyone who wants in, its fucking OPEN SEASON boys! You see a human that looks tasty? Rip them open like a bag of chips!” he laughed.

There were a couple chuckles from the audience, but by and large none of them seemed amused. Some of them looked shocked, a couple looked downright furious… but nobody stood against him. They had all heard of what had happened to the Prince, and if he was making a claim without any real backing he’d be dust by next week.

“Any questions?” he asked, giving it a moment’s wait, “No? Good, then I’m outta here.” he nodded, heading away from the podium as the eyes of the audience watched him go.

As he got backstage two people were waiting for him.

“I told you not to go off script…” sighed a vampire in a dress shirt, suspenders with pinstripe trousers, shiny leather shoes, and a blood red tie with a strange pendant hanging down over it around his neck.

“Oh shut your fuckin’ mouth Astaroth. Like I was gonna use that speech, I couldn’t even understand most of that shit you wrote!” he snapped.

“Don’t listen to him Boss, you did great…” grinned another, this one wearing the kind of suit that went out of style about the time Michael Jackson was becoming famous. “Rattled their cages that’s for sure! They won’t know what to do!” he nodded.

He grinned back, “Fuck yeah I did Tom. What about the other two?” he asked.

Astaroth shrugged, “Walter is out with his faction ensuring that everyone understands the new situation, if nothing else enough to not interfere with it… and as for… well… him…” he frowned.

He and Tom shared a look, nobody liked talking about him.

“Well, he’s doing his part.” nodded Astaroth. “That’s what counts.”

Boss nodded, “Good, that’s good.” he replied, heading off past them back to his new quarters at the building. Archibald’s former apartment infact, but now they’d cleaned up what was left of the very late prince and repaired the window.

The other two smiled as they watched him go, then frowned and glanced at each other. “Walter knows what to really tell ‘em, right?” asked Tom.

Astaroth nodded, “Go wild enough to satisfy the buffoon on old Archie’s throne, but mostly just stay out of our way.”

“Do you think anyone out there really believes this moron offed Archibald?” asked Tom, “I mean this joker acts like some punk teenager even in a suit.”

Astaroth shrugged, “The elders can sense the power of Archie’s blood in him, they know that he…” he paused to make finger quotes, “… ‘killed’ him. Whether or not someone helped, they can only suspect… and they won’t act on suspicions in case they’re wrong."

“How about the Rat? Can we really trust that… thing?” he asked, shuddering a bit.

Astaroth gently ran his fingers over the rim of his pendant. “… he… is tired of hiding and wishes to indulge his bloodlust as he did in his mortal days before he became one of us. If we give him outlet for this, he will work with us… but… yes. I understand exactly where you’re coming from Thomas.”

Tom nodded, “I mean… I grew up hearing stories about the Mill Creek Monster… but… fucking hell finding out what he actually was damn near killed me all over again.”

Astaroth chuckled, showing his fangs, “You and me both old boy…” he replied, “Still, this gives us all what we want. Walter gets to indulge his own fondness for power over others, the Rat will deal with anyone who gets too close in a way that will confuse and terrify the mortal populace, I will have all I need for my research, and you can…” he glanced at Tom, he knew why he was doing this and in his living days may have been sympathetic, but after being undead for the better part of a century it all seemed so… trivial. “… well, you can make your attempt to fix yourself up.” he smiled, nodding.

“Speakin’ of, watching that debacle made me thirsty. I’m gonna go have myself a hot blonde. Later ‘Roth.” he nodded, walking to the door as he waved goodbye.

“Good evening to you too Thomas.” he chuckled, heading off to his own haven.

Dusty’s House

The hedge mage had the caps off both beer bottles and was pouring them into his mouth together as he swallowed frantically, they could swear they saw steam rising as it hit his tongue.

“HAH! That NEVER gets old!” laughed Dawn, “You need another?” she asked.

Dusty leaned forward, gasping, then nodded and held up two fingers as the Cheshire teleported to the kitchen, then reappeared with two fresh bottles which he quickly drained as well, finally sitting back and letting out a loud woosh of breath.

Stephy and Tex were practically flat against the sofa, staring at him as the flames in the bowl died down to embers, Sammi hiding behind it as the sudden pyrotechnic display had been rather alarming to the Prince of the Icebound Heart.

“Those peppers can do THAT? I mean… they made a great chili but…” stammered Tex.

Dusty shook his head, “Nope, get maybe one or two a harvest that can burn that hard… the rest is just good food.” he added.

“So… those guys we saw in the flames…” nodded Stephy, still staring at the bowl.

Dusty waved at his mouth, taking several big gulps of air as he tried to kill the last few stings of spice in it, nodding, “Ayup. I saw it before I spit it, but I gotta see the whole thing before I can show it… ‘swhy I held it in so long.”

Dawn nodded, “Yeah… and that thing they mentioned… the Mill Creek Monster. I know I heard Nelen mention that before. I should probably ask him about it.” she mrowled, her tail swishing behind her.

“Well, whatever that is… the situation is not good. The vampires’ new Prince is a puppet.” observed Sammi as he stood up from behind the couch, dusting himself off. “An old trick used the world over. The king is a fool, his advisors have the real power. They just whisper in his ear and stroke his ego and they can get away with anything, and if it all goes wrong they throw him to the wolves and run.”

“Yeah…” frowned Stephy, “But it sounded like they weren’t happy with him. I think they might not really want to let things go as crazy as Malik and the other ones were saying, like they still get that there could be consequences if they push the mortals too far… I really wish we could call for help, but I know Clan Fullmoon is scrambling to keep things under control already…”

“Quite so brother dear, and House Roche is likely the same given the rumblings I’ve been hearing when I pop back home.” replied Sammi, “With our usual allies dealing with their own problems… we may well be on our own for the present.” he sighed.

Dawn grinned at that. “Don’t say that so soon frostytits.” she nodded, “I’m gonna tell Nelen everything we just found out. He may not come personally for this one, but he won’t just leave you three up Mill Creek without a paddle.” she replied.

“… ain’t that ‘up shit creek?’” asked Tex.

Dawn laughed, “Around here that is Mill Creek. I mean, there’s a reason it has monsters.”

Mill Creek, Cincinnati Ohio

It was once a paper mill, one of the reasons that Mill Creek had its name. The river carried the runoff for the heavy industry of the city for the entirety of Cincinnati’s history and was once described as ‘the most endangered urban river in America’ by some and less charitably ‘a great open city sewer’ by others.

The paper mill’s old runoff tunnel led into the interior of the abandoned factory, long since left to rot when it shut down during the depression plagued 1970s. Since then it had made for a convenient lair for… something.

A would be journalist was laying on the floor of the mill, his wrists tied with zip straps as he whimpered and tried again to free himself, the sun slowly dipping down under the horizon. He had seen what had caught him, though he struggled to believe it. Even with all that had been on the news and internet lately… Cincinnati had vampires!

But some vampires were more monstrous than others, and this one was going to really give him a scare.

He heard something moving as the room grew dark, then a single light came on over him.

“Hmmm… someone brought ol’ Clarence a treat?” came a low gurgling voice.

He heard something sniffing nearby, a shape moving in the shadows. “They remembered poor ol’ Clarence?” the voice chuckled, “Poor ol’ misbegotten Clarence… the Rat of Cincinnati’s vampires…”

The man’s eyes widened, trying to see into the gloom, but it was pitch black compared to the light on him.

“You must have really upset them little human… nobody ever gives Clarence treats…” it chuckled again, and he could hear it’s footsteps moving closer, “… you’re a pretty skinny treat… but… I just woke up so…” and then it leaned into the light.

The man screamed in horror. Its eyes, its face, its teeth, they shouldn’t… they couldn’t… he had no idea what he was looking at but the mere sight of it made his heart leap into his throat!

“… you’ll do.” grinned Clarence the Mill Creek Monster as he opened his jaw wide and lunged, the man’s scream suddenly cutting off.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Rivalry in Darkness

Roche Manor, Brittany France

Left strike, parry, overhead blow, offhand attack, left strike. It was always the same pattern. Francis Roche actually sighed softly as his maid deflected yet another hit from his training sword with her broom, only for him to raise his staff over his head to block her response.

“This is boring...” he huffed out, spinning away from her attempt to knock his legs out. “Real fights aren’t like this, they’re not so…routine. This is just a dance!”

“You’re exactly right, Master Francis.” The woman said in a slightly annoyed tone. “This is not a real fight, this is more of a dance. This is not meant to be a real fight. This is agility training. You SHOULD be trying to react faster to what you know is coming, not complaining!”

Martha Maes had served faithfully as the head maid of the Roche house since Ryan was a young boy, and though she was well into old age by now she still moved with shocking grace and speed. While she did take her duties of cleaning and keeping order seriously, her role in the house was a more important one than making sure sheets are washed on time. Since Ryan’s siblings she was in charge of training the eyeless Roches, and provided strict lessons despite their noble status.

“I’m fast enough, it’s easy to be fast like this! This isn’t getting me ready for a real hunt!” Francis pouted even as his feet moved, swaying to the side to avoid her next attack before following up with a jab from his staff.

“Master Francis, you are ten years old! The youngest Roche to lead a hunt on their own was...” Martha spoke with an audible frown.

“... great uncle Louis at thirteen, who led the family on a hunt against a wild werewolf.” Francis finished in an equally annoyed tone, obviously having been drilled on family history just as much as combat.

“Correct, and that was an EXTREME circumstance where the wolf was already at this house’s gate! You are still many years away from hunting solo, and thus you must master the fundamentals before we even begin to consider proper combat training. So until then resume your first position.”

“Alice learned to fight at my age! She went on her first hunt at fourteen, that’s barely older than him!” Francis retorted quickly, glaring at her behind his sunglasses. “She was training with Nessa in ACTUAL sparring!”

Martha let out an exhausted sigh at that, mentally making note to tell Alice and Nessa not to tell him stories like that later. “That was different. The house was different at the time…”

“You can’t treat me like I’m fragile just because YOU FAILED to get aunt Josephine and uncle David ready for their hunts!” Francis cut off yet another explanation that they needed Alice ready faster since the house didn’t have an eyeless hunter at the time.

That actually did make Martha pause, a look of hurt on her face that even Francis could feel coming from her. “You… You cannot hold that…” She began before sighing again. “Go, the lesson’s over.”

A pang of shame hit the boy as he heard how low of a blow that really was. “Martha, I…”

“Go.” she repeated in a firmer tone. “If you don’t wish to learn then teaching is pointless. I have other duties to attend to if this is unsatisfactory.” she spoke, her hard soled shoes clacking along the stone as she walked back to the house.

The Roche manor was large, but at times it could feel incredibly cramped. Times such as when a young boy, already feeling restrained by his disabilities, may begin to resent hearing the praise and constant chatter about his elder sister coming from every hall. Times such as when even in his own room his honed ears could hear maids through the door saying how amazing she looked in her last ballet performance, or how fast she took to the study of aquatic creatures. It was easy to feel as if they already had one perfect hunter, and having another was simply… surplus.

So, like so many Roche hunters generations before him, when the house became too crowded and his mind was too clouded with emotion, Francis climbed the stairs to the roof, where his mother kept a small herb garden.

Not as impressive as the grand orchard or prize winning flower garden on the grounds, but a small corner of the massive roof fenced off with herbs from her native lands she could cultivate for her magic.

There was also a lovely bench there, which provided the sighted Roches a fine view of their sprawling estate’s grounds, and the eyeless a soothing breeze scented with fresh blooming apple trees.

The bench also was currently occupied by the very subject of most of his angst today. Alice, sitting with her face facing out at the sky with a wistful expression as if she could see it.

For a brief, cruel moment Francis was glad he was blind. Seeing his sister no doubt look like she was in the middle of one of her magazine shoots as she seemingly lounged in the cool evening breeze likely would have set him off more…

“Hey kiddo.” Alice greeted him, wiping her own eyes quickly, a motion she wasn’t sure he could hear or not.

“Hey sis...” Francis said as he sat next to her, pretending to have not heard.

“Rough training?” Alice offered, making Francis wince.

“You heard?”

“Eh, hard not to when I’m up here. Martha will be okay, you’re not the first Roche brat to snap at her during a bad day. I used to give the poor lady hell some days.” Alice said in a sympathetic tone, patting her brother’s arm. “Need to talk?”

“No.” he lied, but he didn’t move her hand away. “What about you? Feels like both of us only come up here when we’re having problems.”

“Yea, kinda predictable huh?” Alice chuckled. “Yea, stuff on my mind.”

“Hunter stuff?” He asked curiously, expecting a job or the like giving her problems.

“Kinda...” She answered, thinking for a bit. She had promised her father secrecy but… well Francis was the other most affected person about this choice. ”Dad’s retiring, he’s making me family head. Don’t know when but it sounds like soon.” She finally admitted.

That made Francis jerk his arm away from her touch. “What?!” He shouted. “No! We’re supposed to… UGH!” He fumed, throwing his hands up. “Figures! Perfect princess Alice gets to run things all alone! Dad said BOTH of us are supposed to lead, I thought he was going to wait until I was a proper hunter too but noooo!”

“Francis chill.” Alice said in a quieter voice. “One, nobody else knows so stop shouting, two… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You!” Francis snapped, standing. “You’re wrong with me! Or I guess I’M wrong with this whole family! I mean why bother even HAVING a second eyeless when perfect miss Alice can run things all alone? Alice can do everything! Alice saves hostages! Alice does photo shoots! Alice gets a MEDAL for saving RACCOONS! What’s the point of TWO hunters when all the Roche family needs is perfect Alice?!”

Alice stood at that as well, hand whipping out to slap Francis across the face. “Are you quite done with your tantrum now?!”

“Maybe I am! Apparently it’s all I’m good for!” Francis responded and, to the shock of both of them, gave Alice’s midsection a rather harsh shove, sending her stepping back a bit. “You go save the world and I’ll just stay home and have tantrums! It’s all anyone expects anyway!”

“You little…” She glared at him behind her glasses, Francis feeling the intensity even in his darkness… "Oh poor baby! You have to TRAIN! Woe is you, did Martha make you practice your techniques so a damn werewolf doesn’t tear you in half?! What a TRUE monster that nice old lady is!”

She stepped forward at that, grabbing his shirt angrily. “Do you know what I’d GIVE to not be the perfect ‘miracle child’?! Before I was born dad thought the whole line was cursed because his siblings died! We have TWO other elder siblings all born with sight! You know how anal fae deals are, dad thought when both eyeless died our patron took her blessing, and ever since the moment I opened my blind eyes I’m the one who had to remake MY legacy! Daily drills, constant photo shoots to promote whatever bullshit the companies we run are doing! I had NO friends except for Nessa, I had NO social life despite going to every bullshit useless gala this ungrateful city throws for itself!"

Alice continued, her face red (though Francis couldn't tell of course,) "Father woke me up on my fourteenth birthday with a simulation that the damn house was under assault! My birthday present was pissing myself in terror because I thought some monster was tearing YOU apart in your bedroom or god only knows what. Every day I walked these halls as a reminder of the aunt I never knew who apparently looked just like me and I was treated like her ghost! I did NOTHING but fight and train like a fucking soldier since I could stand and hold my cane and now the little brat who gets to go outside and have friends and be an absolute terror is mad?!”

She wasn’t sure when she started crying during that, and Francis wasn’t quite sure when he did either, but both felt the heat of their own faces as Francis yanked himself free.

“It’s our legacy...” he said in a smaller voice, wiping the tears away.

“What?”

“You said you remade your legacy… it’s ours, we’re both eyeless. I look like uncle David, I feel the same looks from mom and dad sometimes… We’re supposed to be a team but you never let me.” The boy said, sitting back down. “Do you know my first memory? It's when you almost died.”

“Gonna need to narrow it down...” Alice laughed weakly, a half hearted attempt to avoid the topic.

“You know when. I was barely five when you got stabbed by that hobgoblin! Mom took me to see you because… well she didn’t say it but it was because she didn’t know if you’d make it. I felt your face, you were so cold and so... blank, like the crypt statues. It was like you were already dead to me and I remember so clearly crying and hugging you because I really thought you were. Then you woke up, and it was like it never happened. We just kept going. I started training not long after it was just… done. That’s my first memory, one minute my big sister is dead, the next she’s walking around the house and everyone’s saying how amazing she is.”

Alice listened quietly that time, putting her hand lightly on his shoulder as he spoke. “I… shit... Francis I had no idea.”

“Because you never asked! You never talk about your jobs other than to brag about how big and scary they were or to flirt with Nessa. Nobody ever does, and I just hear that helicopter or that car every time and wonder if you’re going to be dead again and if this time you’re not going to be back.”

“Francis…” She sighed, unsure what to really say in response.

“I’m eyeless too! I’m your brother, we’re supposed to protect each other and you always go alone and leave me home to be scared, and if I tell anyone then I’m just being a crybaby and not a real hunter.”

“Who says that?” Alice frowned, feeling very defensive of her brother suddenly.

“People… some of the other hunters, the guards… cousin Joseph called me a wuss when I was crying the other day because I was scared about you and that hotel.”

“Cousin Joseph soiled his fucking pants the first time he saw a ghost! I fucking SMELLED it!” Alice shot back, now glaring out of protectiveness rather than anger. “I’m going to kick his ass…”

“No! I don’t NEED you to fight FOR me…” Francis said angrily. “I need you to fight WITH me. I… I want to be with you when you hunt, I don’t CARE what idiots like Joseph say. I care that I can’t talk about this because…”

“... because nobody else understands what it’s like to live in the dark.” Alice finished for him.

“It’s so easy for them to say ‘just be brave’ or ‘you’ll see she’ll be back in no time’ but… I can’t see that. I hear you come home and I have no idea if you’re limping or bandaged up or being dragged by Nessa… I can’t just ‘wait...’ I just…”

“... sit in the dark with your thoughts, good and bad.”

“Yea...” he sniffed. “And nobody else in this whole house understands that except my big sister…”

“Who’s always gone, making it worse.”

“Yea…”

The pair sat in silence for a while, all the anger and resentment and sorrow had melted away. It was easy to look at the other as if they had the better life, but in reality they were two halves of the same life, the only two pieces that fit together in an otherwise large picture around them.

“I’m going to talk to Martha.” Alice finally said quietly, sniffing as well. “You’re still too young to hunt properly, you need your training to survive, the fact that you lashed out like this is proof of that…” She continued, trying to sound authoritative, as the head of the family should, but that quickly faded back away.

“... and the fact that I did too shows that I’ve been trying too hard to carry everything alone. You’re right, this is our legacy, not mine alone, and you’ll never learn without experience. So let me be clear on that, you are not a hunter yet, you won’t be taking jobs, you CERTAINLY won’t be coming with us on every job… But some, the ones that I can see the educational merit in, you will join us as an observer. As much as Martha and dad and mom may want to protect you, this is a job you only really can learn first hand.”

Francis was holding his breath with excitement as she spoke, eyes as wide as saucers behind his lenses. “So I can come on the field then?”

“SOMETIMES, only with my permission and the SECOND you fail to listen to any actual hunters and put yourself or the hunt in danger you’ll be on archive duty until you’re collecting a pension. Are we clear? This isn’t a joke and this isn’t a game, this is very literally life or death and… You’re my baby brother, like it or not, I’m going to protect you.”

Francis lunged to his side at that, hugging Alice tightly around the waist. “Thank you! I promise I’ll be good, I won’t do anything you don’t tell me I swear!”

“Oh I know you won’t, because if you do...”

“I know, I know, archives until pension.”

Alice laughed softly, nodding. “Yea… and look you… you don’t have to keep this stuff bottled up, okay? Even if you’re mad at me or something, just talk to me. Guys like Joseph are idiots. It’s okay to be scared or even cry, we all do and if anyone ever gives you shit about it just crack their head with your cane and see how fast they start crying too.”

Francis just squeezed her, smiling happily as she stroked his hair.

“You’re going to apologize to Martha though, that was a dirty blow.”

“Yea… I know.” Francis admitted sadly.

“You know she loved them like her own kids, she trained all of us well.”

“She does…”

“Which is why, to prepare you for field work, you’ll be doing double sessions with her to accelerate your program. Morning AND evening drills just like big sis Alice did.” she grinned.

“Wait…”

“And I’ll be telling her to stop pulling her blows too, since my baby brother will need to be combat ready to defend himself.”

“... She’s been pulling her blows?” Francis asked nervously.

“Mhm, you ever feel that tooth that’s chipped when you’re touching my face?”

“Yea…”

“Who do you think chipped it?”

“I think I’m still learning…” Francis whined softly.

“Oh no, you were right, it is unfair that we coddle you, you’re a big guy now and you’re about to be joining us on the field. So you’ll also be starting the same training diet I had. You’ll love it, three healthy meals of boiled spinach with a wheat grass smoothie, and when you’re good you can have a slice of unfrosted carrot cake after dinner…”

“Okay now you’re messing with me...” Francis frowned, smacking her side lightly. “...Right?”

“Yea, just fucking with you there.” Alice teased, patting his head. “About the food at least. Martha WILL be kicking your whiny little ass twice a day until you can fight back properly.”

“That I’m alright with… I guess.” Francis sighed happily.

“Good, so you better get to bed soon, Martha will be waking you up at dawn for training before she has to do her morning work.” That time she wasn’t kidding, Francis could feel the smirk she had when she spoke this close to him.

“Ugh, fine, it’s worth it if I get to join you.” He huffed, standing back up and wiping his face.

“Hey.” Alice stopped him, holding his hand lightly. “Seriously, though. Don’t hold this stuff back okay? Everyone will be talking about you just like they do about me in no time, they just need to see how great you are. I’m sure you’ll even get your own medal for ‘saving raccoons’ was it?” She teased, the boy blushing a bit as he was reminded of his outburst.

“I mean, that’s what it sounded like…”

“I rescued the zoo’s raccoon dog after some Japanese oni stole it thinking it was a real tanuki… The medal was from the humane society, it looks like a cute little cat face.” She teased, standing as well and bonking him lightly on the head. “Such a little brat, if the monsters don’t kill you I just might.”

The Roche family isn’t a perfect one, like all families they have their strifes and arguments, but as the two siblings made their way down from the roof they both were reminded that the fae that made this deal with their ancestor didn’t pick two children randomly. It was meant to be a burden and a responsibility both parties shouldered, something to unite the pair, and the family around them.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Scars

Roche Manor, Brittany France

No leader can rule forever. Even in a small group like a hunter family leadership could change fairly often. In House Roche the family was traditionally led by a pair, each of the ‘eyeless’ children groomed to take leadership from a young age. Thanks to this system the leadership tended to feel more ‘stable’ than many others, even when one would step down or pass on the other typically remained until the ‘next generation’ was able to take the position.

Of course, as Ryan was a testament to, this wasn’t always true. Sometimes fate can be cruel, or simply just randomly unfair, and the duty falls to whomever is eldest to take over.

For years Ryan did his best to guide House Roche as his ancestors did, to study and understand the supernatural world as much as they controlled it, and to oppose those who’d exploit or harm it needlessly. Some wounds never fully heal, though. Deep down he always felt the sorrow and guilt of his loss, and knew that it was eating away at how he could lead the family properly. It wasn’t until recent nights, though, that it really sunk in.

He spent days mulling over his daughter’s choice, not out of anger, or protectiveness, like usual, but because he feared the truth behind his confusion at it. In all honesty years ago he would have done the same at her age, he DID do the same many times.

He thought of those times alone in the darkness in his office. The werewolf youth he spared because they were just frightened of their first change rather than a true threat. The changeling whose powers were feeding off their erratic emotions and lashing out rather than maliciously attacking others. The young mage who tried a spell beyond their scope. None of them deserved death, even if other more conservative hunters would disagree.

Now, though? He wasn’t sure he’d do the same. He wasn’t sure he wouldn't either, but that doubt made him uncomfortable. Had his mercy been drained from him that badly in his time in charge? Had he seen too much cruelty and evil to feel that same empathy that once gave him strength? He could ignore it, he hadn’t DONE anything to justify the fear after all, but how long would that last? How long until he made a call based on that lack of empathy that meant some innocent being got murdered because of his spite? Could he live with himself at that point? No, it was best to step aside now, before his anger could grow into a full cancer within the family, even if it was unexpected.

It certainly was unexpected for Alice. Sure she expected to take over at some point, likely even before Francis was fully trained just due to the age gap, but so suddenly? Now? She was barely past her own training and now she was being given the reins of one of the most powerful hunting families in western Europe?

“Don’t worry.” Ryan chuckled lightly, putting a hand on her shoulder. He could tell his daughter was genuinely shocked considering the blind girl was ‘staring’ blankly forward even as he walked away from the window he stood at. “It’s not like I’m going to vanish off to some beach to retire. I’ll be here to help you, consider me your most loyal advisor, but it’s time for you to take the seat you’ve been chosen for.”

“It’s just...” Alice finally spoke, stumbling for her words a bit. “I had no idea you were even considering… Are you sick or something?”

“No no, nothing so dramatic.” Ryan smiled simply before taking a more serious tone. “My time is coming to an end, not out of any grand doom or destruction looming over my head, but simply because… I’m an old man, Alice. I’m old and in many ways I’m tired. Losing your aunt and uncle so young... this seat has never felt comfortable for me, it wasn’t meant for me. I like to think I’ve done well in it but I can’t be sure how long I’ll do well. Isn’t it better to go out while ahead and all?” He smiled, it was a slightly weak smile, though.

He was ashamed in some ways. He knew he was forcing a burden on his daughter unexpectedly, and he wasn’t proud that it was because he was no longer secure in his own morals, but she needed a strong and supportive father right now. “Alice.” he continued, putting his hands on her shoulders. “You are one of the best hunters I’ve seen in action, both in the field and in study. You and Francis both have risen to every task set for you, and I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t positive House Roche would be in the best hands.”

Alice did believe him, as shocking as it was she knew it wasn’t a choice her father would make randomly. He told her not to tell anyone just yet, he wanted to make the announcement more formally soon, but the thought was left rattling in her mind as she walked out of his, soon to be her,office.

Some years ago

The first time she thought about it was years ago, on her very first job for the family proper. It was a simple one, a perfect ‘get your feet wet’ thing for the young hunter and her nagual companion.

A changeling community reported on a problem with hobgoblins from the Hedge having ‘hunts’ in the area. Normally most hunters let these communities handle their own problems, but hobgoblins were chaotic beings, and tended to the sadistic side. It was likely their attempt to recapture changelings could spill into them trying to nab ‘fresh’ victims for their fae masters.

“You girls know the plan.” Harlow smiled. It was a bit of a funny sight to some, technically at seventeen he was indeed older than the pair but the already rather baby faced man hardly looked like ‘authority’ despite his uniform and weapon. Really, considering Nessa was in her suit and Alice was wearing a simple green sweater and khaki slacks, this looked like some VIP’s child on a family outing more than anything, though that was in some ways part of the cover.

The locals were on edge already, the small French town didn’t see much chaos to begin with so having the troubles of wild hedge dwellers made people nervous. It was best if, to most of them, this just seemed like some rich girl on a holiday outside of Paris than anything too noticeable.

“Recon says there’s a lot of them, but only one leader.” Harlow continued, handing Nessa the file. “Big guy, redcap, calls himself Gutbiter.”

“Charming, family name?” Nessa smirked, making Alice giggle lightly.

“Yea.” Harlow grinned back at her, showing those sharp fangs off as he did. “I hear he got it from his mom, wanna know how?”

“Point made.” Nessa chuckled, looking through the file. “Standard redcap bullshit though?”

“Yea, big, mean, sadistic bastard but not too tough in a one to one fight, at least not compared to you two. Don’t let him rattle you and for god’s sake don’t let him bite you. Recon says they watched him eat a car. Not ‘take a bite out’, straight up ate the car whole. Like a snake.”

“I kinda want to see what else he can eat...” Alice teased as Nessa chuckled again. “Think he could eat a whole train?”

“Well I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” Harlow winked, the car coming to a stop in the town square. “Reconvene at sundown if you haven’t found him, once you take Gutbiter down his minions will scatter so hopefully this goes nice and quick and you girls get your first W as proper Roche hunters.” He grinned, unlocking the door and nodding to Nessa. “You’re on point for security now, no backup.”

Nessa nodded, a more serious look on her face. “Don’t need any, we got this.”

“Yea.” Alice smirked as she climbed out. “What, think there’s something about me that makes me more in danger or something?” She winked behind her glasses as she dramatically extended her cane with a flick of her wrist.

“More like dad will kill me if I send his little angel into a situation unprepared.” Harlow teased before nodding. “Seriously though, sis, good luck. You got this.”

The town was a rather nice one, both girls could understand why the local changelings used it as a haven. The buildings were small, but cozy, nothing really over three stories, like something out of a picture book. Alice smiled as she felt the warm breeze on her skin, lightly scented by the wildflowers that grew freely around the town. “Well, let’s give these people their peaceful country lives back, hm?” She grinned as Nessa nodded.

“Reports say Gutbiter’s holed up down this way, he’s using an old barn as his base. No security, redcaps love a fight so I imagine he sees guards as ‘ruining the fun.’” Nessa chuckled as she tucked the file into her jacket.

“Awesome, we’ll be out by dinner then. I smell a bakery so you can buy me something nice as a treat.” Alice grinned, playfully poking her companion with the cane before making their way to the barn.

The recon was right, as usual. The Roche family long ago realized the value in a carefully scouted hunt, and Harlow’s currently short time as head of logistics led to an even increased focus on it. The young man, despite his personality, took his job deathly seriously, and under him nearly every hunt was accompanied by a detailed scouting report and a neatly compiled dossier sourced from the massive Roche archives on any possible threats.

Some more traditional sorts may say such recon was overkill, or even ‘unsporting’, but at the end of the day in a job such as hunting all that matters is results, and the aid of recon and other intel led to much better results.

For example, thanks to that research, Alice wasn’t caught off guard when Gutbiter’s jaw distended and he tried to swallow her arm in one bite. In a flash the redcap was screaming, falling back and holding his jaw as he nursed a still smoldering hole at the base of his lower jaw.

In the ancient days, when the age of gods and myth was still across the world, the gods of Olympus enslaved the mighty cyclops race to forge them and their champions weapons of conquest and victory. Though long freed from such indignity, the great giants still have yet to fully recover from such devastation and cruelty. Because of that long generational memory they made a sacred vow that never would they make weapons of destruction for anyone but themselves and their closest kin.

It was likely due to that vow that even their fellow warlike sorts have never seen a true cyclopian weapon in person, and why even one of the more cunning ones like Gutbiter would assume that the cane wielded by one lone hunter must be just a functional tool rather than anything for her work. It wasn’t until the cane propped his jaws open and began to burn through his flesh that he realized that this wasn’t just a blind woman’s tool.

The cane itself remained in Alice’s free hand, a sturdy, polished metallic sheath that remained weighted at the tip to serve as a functional cane for her needs, while also staying strong enough to work as an offhand weapon to harass her opponent with.

The real weapon was in her main hand, though, ripped free of Gutbiter’s mouth roaring with rage. Shiny, polished cold iron she flicked clean of the redcap’s blood.

Both edges of the blade were kept razor sharp, keeping its keen edge even in the most dire circumstances. One side was the same cold iron that tore through Gutbiter’s jaw, the other was a shimmering silvered edge for the creatures vulnerable to that metal. A combined blade of two near sacred metals to hunters, woven expertly in the forge of an ancient volcano by hands who once forged the bolts of Zeus and the spear of Ares themselves.

“You think you’re the first fae creature my clan has faced, Gutbiter?” Alice grinned as she lowered her stance, an iron edge aimed at the redcap. Outside Nessa’s green flames were holding his allies back, drawn to the sound of fighting and chaos, the woman cackling as she watched one of the hobgoblins seemingly made of an animated scarecrow catch alight and run through the field in a panic.

The Arcadian Blades, twin relics of the Roche clan. Thin, graceful, weapons made of woven iron and silver, both temperamental metals keeping their magical properties thanks to the expert smiths that made them.

They became the perfect symbols of the Roches, weapons that could only come from a true and genuine bond with the supernatural world, concealed in staves and canes to allow their blind wielders to pass through their hunting grounds as one of the many unseen sorts that society tries to ignore. It was no wonder they became the symbols of leadership to the Roche family, the weight of every user before them seemed to add strength to each new holder’s strikes.

Gutbiter was a powerful redcap, but he was no match for a trained Roche with a weapon literally designed to kill his kind. “Hoi, hobs!” Alice called from inside the barn before the head of Gutbiter came flying out, sailing through Nessa’s flames to land at the feet of the group. “I see any of you around this town again and you’ll be joining him!” she smirked, the choice in words obviously a joke, but their leader’s still smoldering neck made it clear the threat was real regardless.

As predicted they scattered, hedge gates opening as they frantically ran back to the relative safety of their domains, only to be replaced by grateful changelings coming out of their hiding spots, equally drawn to the site of the fight out of morbid curiosity if their torment would finally be over.

“Not a bad first job huh?” Alice grinned, her cane reassembled and resting lazily on her shoulder as she put her free arm around Nessa’s waist. “What do you know, we make a good team huh? Think you’ll want to do mo-...”

She was cut off with a soft squeak as a pair of arms wrapped around her, small, delicate, limbs that felt like cool polished wood. “Thank you!” called out a small feminine voice.

Hugging around Alice’s waist was a youthful looking girl who’s body seemed to be made of shiny white wood, carved with joints like an artist’s modeling doll. She looked up at the pair with bright, glassy, eyes wet with tears. “We thought we would all be caught again…” She continued before burying her face in Alice’s side, the hunter laughing a bit nervously as she patted the doll-like girl's soft hair.

“Shhh, it’s okay, he’s gone now, and his little friends are a bunch of cowards, None of them are gonna bother you now that they can’t hide beh-”

Again she was cut off, not by gratitude this time, but by a cry of rage from the roof of the barn.

“FOR GUTRIPPER!”

A harsh, hate filled, voice shouted before Alice felt a blade sink into her side just between her ribs! She let out a ragged breath, sputtering blood as the girl hugging her shrieked in horror!

She couldn’t tell what else was happening, her normally strong senses dulled by the rapid loss of blood…

She heard shouting, then a loud gunshot, and for a brief moment what sounded like Harlow’s voice shouting ‘get her out of here’ before everything went cold.

Much later...

Two weeks. Two weeks of fear, of uncertainty, of sleepless nights as Ryan and Nessa both refused to leave Alice’s bedside for different reasons that stemmed from the same level of love.

The changelings worked quickly to get Alice to their freehold, a small pocket dimension hidden between the gaps of the Hedge where they could draw on their fae powers without being at risk of being found by their former captors. It was the least they could do after she was wounded while protecting them, after all.

Harlow’s sniper rifle turned most of the one brave hobgoblin that stuck around into a faint mist and Nessa, screaming in rage as loud as the fae’s, burnt the rest of it to ash... but none of that could undo the damage.

A black blade, one forged of a fae’s hate and cruelty, a blade made of a poison deadlier than most any found on the mortal realm, that was what it drove into Alice’s back. If not for the fact that the fae opened their freehold to them, and Alice could be surrounded by their power directly, she’d surely have died before they could get her back to Paris.

“I don’t care what they’re saying about scheduled interviews, tell the stupid fashion rag that Miss Roche is busy with… I don’t know, charity work. She’s giving homes to sad puppies or something! Fucking figure it out before I come back there and carve an excuse on your back to send in!” Harlow growled into the phone, sitting down by Alice’s bed with an exhausted sigh.

“Come on kid, wake up...” he said in a much softer, sadder, voice as his hand touched Alice’s cold, still, hand. “Dad’s losing his shit, Nessa’s beside herself… I’m going screw loose too… You can’t go out on us after just one job… One job I set up…” He chuckled sadly, reaching under his glasses to rub his dampened eyes. “I’m sorry, I should have taken that thing out but… I was hoping you would. I didn’t know it’d be able to pull that trick with the knife… I should have though. I promise I won’t ever slip like that again, just get up.”

Nessa rested a gloved hand on his shoulder at that, the young woman no longer in her suit, having been given a bathrobe and simple pajamas to wear around the freehold for more comfort. Not that she slept much, Nessa spent most nights curled up next to Alice staring at her for any sign of awakening.

“Ryan says if she’s not dead yet that’s a good sign that the glamour here stopped the poison… but she should be awake by now too. I don’t know what’s going on, we’re surrounded by fairy bullshit right now… No offense.” she added, throwing a look to the small doll girl that looked just as worried as the rest of them. “Who knows what it’s doing to her…”

Somewhere...

Darkness.

It was a familiar sight for Alice. It was in fact all she saw, forever.

Since the day she was born, just as their fae patron promised before she even opened her eyes the first time she was blind. Born in darkness, the eyeless Roche, a child of the supernatural almost as much as the mundane. Now she was struck down by a fae blade, kept alive by fae magics, trapped in her own mind.

“Weak...” a voice seemed to echo around her, breaching the serene darkness that made up her life.

“Pathetic...” it continued.

“Your first job and you fail, stabbed in the back while you were gloating like an oaf. What do you think you are, an action movie star? A comic hero? You’re barely a woman, barely a hunter… barely a Roche!”

The voice was cruel, cold, a woman’s voice that sounded twisted by hate.

“I am a Roche.” Alice responded, her physical form impassive as before as her mind lashed out. “I’m a damn eyeless, I was born for this.”

“Born yes, deserving no.” The voice responded. “A spoiled, pampered, princess, born with a gift she wastes. You spend more time doing magazine interviews and parties than hunting.”

“We have to maintain both sides of the family!” Alice responded angrily. “I don’t ENJOY those events, but I’m supposed to play the young socialite heiress while father’s businesses grow. We need a strong profile to fight guys like Cheron in the mundane world just as much as we do in the supernatural.”

“Listen to you, you sound like a damn brat.” The voice responded without caring. “You need business deals, you need interviews, you need all this? You only need your senses and your blade! Don’t lie to me, girl. You love that garbage. You love being the center of attention even when your father is in the room… You know you should be in charge of things.”

“That’s a lie and you know it! Dad’s a great leader, he’s doing great things for the family!” Alice shot back defensively, a nerve hit.

“Oh I’m aware, he does great things in a chair he got by accident, making our family into a bunch of socialites and businessmen while spoiling our heir so she’s so untrained she got assassinated by a damn brownie…”

“He’s not why this happened! It’s my fault! It’s all me! I should have secured the area, I should have Nessa sweep the barn, I shouldn’t have gone out to brag before I made sure everything was done! Dad had nothing to do with my failures, they’re mine alone!”

It was quiet for a good while before a soft laugh followed. Not a spiteful one, one that sounded almost proud.

“Good girl...” the woman’s voice continued, calmer, quieter now, no longer dripping with venom. “That’s right, they are yours, and now your life is yours. Are you going to just lie here and rot away while your family, your little lover, watches?”

“No! I want to live, I want to fight again, I want to show them I can do better!”

“You want to go to another party?”

“I don’t give a shit about parties!” Alice shouted in her own mind. “If that’s what it takes to come back fine, screw it, I’ll never go out again, I’ll spend my life holed up in the garden training so I never fuck up like this again! I’ll be the best warrior the Roche clan ever made, just let me go back!”

The laugh came again, and for a moment the darkness wasn’t so dark. A light seemed to shimmer, soft and blue, only for a second. “Well, let’s not go crazy. You are right. As much as I may disagree at times, the Roche family is more than a hunter clan these days, we need to be strong on all fronts… and you do look nice as an ‘inspiring blind girl’ story I suppose.”

“Who are you?” Alice asked, more quiet than before.

“Yea, it can be hard to see, even in our own minds huh? We’re born in the dark after all, it’s more comfortable to us than the light, even within our own head.” The shimmer came again, for just a glimpse Alice could see a face, a young woman’s face, one that… looked a lot like hers in fact. “Surely you at least can recognize the woman who used that sword of yours before you, though?”

Alice did recognize her. She felt that face many times. She felt over every bust in the Roche family tomb, every fallen Roche memorialized in marble. She learned all their faces without even seeing them, drawing strength from the legacy of her ancestors as part of her training, learning all their names and how they fell.

“Aunt Josephine… killed by a vengeful spirit…” She whispered, the aunt she never knew, one of the two who fell and left her father in charge, and the last Roche to hold her blade.

“Tell him to stop beating himself up. We went down fighting, a fate every Roche should strive for. He’s doing well… and he made a damn fine heiress when she stops getting in her own way. Now get up, kid, our family’s waiting for you.”

Alice did wake up after that, gasping as if rising out of a deep pool as her body jerked up, nearly throwing Nessa off her vigil at the side of her bed.

Until then the concept of being ‘the heir’ was always an idea more than anything. She knew it was true, she knew the reality of it of course, but her father seemed like such an unstoppable figure when she grew up she never really thought of having to take over for him. Now she could feel the weight of it, she knew what was at stake if she got sloppy.

She did take her training more seriously after that, drilling with her sword and studying the archives more.

She still did her parties, though. She was expected at them, the young heiress to the Roche family expected to show up and put on the show expected of her.

Even in those fields, though, she took a different view, using them to find informants and sources of rumors. Volunteering at homeless shelters was good press, and listening to the stories about ‘monsters’ in the dark alleyways that most wrote off as crazy murmurs helped her point Harlow in the direction of where to investigate.

Children’s charities always made lovely photo-ops, and children are so much more perceptive of the other world than their adults. Even the animal shelters and such, with the occasional reports of ‘giant dogs’ or ‘strange noises in the sewers’ coming in to point to the more beastly threats.

Now, standing outside her father’s door, she couldn’t help but run a finger over the scar that remained on her side. The changelings offered to hide it but she didn’t let them.

She wanted the reminder, a tangible one she could feel. Every time she felt like she was slipping in her duty she could run her hand over that scar and remember what it almost cost her. She had a feeling she’d be touching that scar a lot these coming days.

Next Story

Previous Story

#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq

[arjaandsimoni]

Noblesse Oblige

Brittany France, Near the Coast

Roche manor was a large estate. A massive four story building that looked almost like a palace more than a manor house, especially with that great glass dome at the top that marked the Roche observatory chamber. Still, despite the opulence around them the Roche family valued cultivating the land properly, as was shown by the equally massive orchards they kept that sprawled across the grounds like a miniature forest.

Two days had passed since the hostage crisis. Much as they predicted Alice’s father, Ryan Roche, did indeed both turn red and sputter when told about how the situation was resolved, but her brother was correct that under his harsh at times exterior Ryan had a similarly merciful heart as his daughter. A short lecture about ‘the nature of predators’ was all he felt was needed before praising both of his children and Nessa’s work.

Ryan had been a hunter for a long time, almost sixty years of work in the darkness of the world wearing on him. Crow’s feet around the eyes, streaks of gray in his otherwise coal black hair, all marked the man’s age even as he kept his physical form in as well maintained condition as he could. The oldest of his siblings, the mantle of leadership fell to him at a young age, but he excelled as the head of the family. Now things were shifting around him once again, though it was a more welcome change than the ones in the past he endured.

Long long ago, when humanity was still in its infancy, the world was dark. Humanity was still learning to join together, and many were resistant to such lessons. Petty fiefdoms and tribes clashed, which made them easy prey for the predators that lurked in the shadows.

In some long forgotten tribe, a long forgotten man saw his family slaughtered not by the rivals and enemies he knew well, but by strange beings that seemed to be made of the shadows themselves, with gnashing teeth and tearing claws.

His grief drove him to near madness, but it seemed to also empower him. Those creatures fell to his blade, a crude axe he once used to chop trees for warmth and light.

This grief also drew another to him, another being that lurked in the darkness, one who shared his hate of the shadow things and their master. She did not often waste her energy on mortals like him, and the few times she did she tended to be drawn more to the sorrow of lost children and the like... though really what is a man who’s lost everything but a lost child lashing out at the darkness?

A deal was struck, one that would last for generations. The woman of lost children would protect him, show him how to strike at the predators in the shadows that others can’t even recognize, and he would be able to make a new family, one of warriors like him who would ensure that no other would feel the grief that tore out his heart.

All she asked in return was a small tax, to be paid every generation. Two children, one son, one daughter, would be robbed of their sight before they even open their eyes the first time, never to know the world of man, only to exist in the darkness. In return, though, those children would be empowered even greater than the rest of their kin, for only those born in the darkness can become its most perfect hunters.

It was a grim bargain, but the man made it without doubt. Such a deal was worth it if he could protect others from suffering as he did. And thus, in that dark winter night, huddled around a tiny fire, the family that would become the Roches was born.

To her word the fae queen blessed his line with great power, strength, speed, perception, all pushed to the near limits of what humanity was capable of. They became great warriors, heroes of the people, and as their ancestor vowed they kept their people safe from the darkness around them.

The first ‘eyeless’ child was a struggle, long before the advancements of the modern world to help the blind, and an unavoidable sign of their ancestor’s deal with the fae. The child grew up feeling the burden of expectation on them. Though, as promised, the child was never alone. Their family guided them, and even among their kin the child found their abilities enhanced.

They could hear their prey’s heart beating in its chest, smell the sweat and blood that they drew from their battle even as the beast escaped into the darkness, some even were able to see the very ‘spirits’ of what they chased, crude auras of light in their eternal darkness to guide them.

These children were not pitiable wretches, but rather symbols of power. The signs of the Roche line’s strength, and in time it was decided that it was only fitting that they would be trained as leaders.

In Ryan’s generation tragedy struck early. His eldest sister and younger brother were both born ‘eyeless,' but both died to the same being; a cruel and vengeful spirit that seemed to know the Roche ancestry.

It struck both of them, killing them brutally and leaving Ryan as the oldest in charge of avenging that loss. He still at times takes pleasure in passing by the crystal orb he bound the spirit in and mounted in a statue by the pond behind the estate. The creature stole the future of his siblings, so he stole its eternal rest.

“Wretched thing.” the man sneered at the statue, a large frog sitting upright with the orb in its mouth, the rolling smoke within speaking to the spirit’s rage even years later.

“I hope it hurts you every time you see my family walking by. Maybe you can understand how it felt for me every time I sat in what should have been their seat.” He spat into the pond before turning to walk back up the way to the house, the rage he felt at that creature fading as he saw what he fought for.

His wife, Ilsa, was in the kitchen, smiling happily as she pulled the muffins she was baking for the family’s breakfast out of the oven. Even with their fleet of staff she enjoyed doing such things herself. Ilsa was like many Roche spouses, not a proper ‘hunter’ herself but aware of the ‘greater world’ long before she met Ryan. Born in Sweden to a long line of mystics and wise women, her family had many dealings with the local fae and other natural spirits much like Ryan’s.

“Still taunting that old thing?” She greeted him as he walked in, smiling as she handed over one of the fresh baked goods.

“Better than coffee in the morning, dearest.” he grinned.

“When that thing gets out and goes right for you I’m not helping you.” she teased.

“Oh I don’t know... I heard some very powerful witch from far up north enchanted that frog statue, I doubt he’s getting out anytime soon.” Ryan winked back. Ilsa was a kinder soul than him in many ways, important to keep him grounded, but like any Roche when the safety of the family came she had no issue bringing the full weight of her powers to bear.

Ilsa was just about to press the button for the intercom that would let her summon her family when the sound of feet racing down the stairs came, followed by a young girl’s voice shouting. “MUFFINS!”

Long ago, less long than long long ago though, Ryan and Ilsa were on a job far from home. Despite their family’s purpose of protecting the people of France, that job could at times take them far from their homelands. After all, a threat across the ocean can become a threat at your doorstep if allowed to fester.

One such threat was a company known as the Cheron Group. On paper a medical and biological focused company, in reality a shadowy corporate entity who’s tendrils were extended all through the world. While some like the Roche family saw the supernatural world as a complicated parallel, one with potential for both allies and enemies, others saw it as a resource to be exploited.

Cheron was behind many schemes to ‘study’ the supernatural, ones that took them all across the globe. This one brought them deep in the jungles of Mexico, searching out rumors of a local mystic herb that could be cultivated into a curative elixir. While many came to seek it in hopes of saving a life of a loved one or the like, Cheron came to harvest it in bulk.

It was almost beautiful in a surreal way, great rows of these glowing pale blue herbs that sparkled in the moonlight. If not for the fact that Cheron had functionally enslaved the local village to grow this herb it’d be an amazing sight.

Ilsa and Ryan truly hated Cheron, while the Roche family had fought them before it seemed Ryan took things to a new level, expanding both their legitimate mundane holdings into fields to fight them ‘properly’ and their supernatural work to hamstring them where they could.

Ilsa had a similar passion against them, having seen them nearly wipe out a native population of reindeer that the local Sami tribe near her home relied on as a side effect of their digging and looting of an ancient shrine’s ruins that was said to hold an artifact blessed by Freya herself. This was Cheron’s standard operation, to find a source of supernatural power and exploit it until it was destroyed, no concern for it or the surrounding beings’ life and safety.

So, it likely wasn’t a bit surprising that these Cheron workers had many enemies domestically as well. One night just as Ryan and Ilsa were readying themselves to raid the camp proper after a good week of harassment and sabotage, the silent jungle was torn open by the most horrific sounds either had ever heard!

Wails and screams of the dead echoed through the jungle worse than any necromancer they’d ever seen conjure. Then, when the workers and their guards were filled with terror and confusion, green flames rained down from the sky.

Very few outsiders ever saw true Aztec magic at play. Despite its iconic reputation, the empire itself was actually quite small, very few places can claim true heritage from it and much of its arts were lost in the pillaging and colonization that would come.

Their magicians, warrior priests really, had many arts, but one of their most sacred was the art of the nagual, mystics who forged a bond with an animal whose auspice they were born under, their two spirits woven together as one.

Anacaona, or ‘Ana’ to those she liked, was one of those, a magician of the ancient ways who had forged a bond with an eagle spirit, which Ryan and Ilsa were now watching rise from the green flames around them, letting out an ear piercing cry! Just like that, it was gone. The flames, the eagle, the Cheron group workers, all gone in the blink of an eye and the town and its magical plant were saved.

Nessa’s mother became a dear friend to Ryan and Ilsa since then, all three of them young adults at the time, eager to fight Cheron and other such groups. It wasn’t any surprise the three developed a lifelong friendship.

When it came time for Ryan to take over, and when he needed the support of those close to him the most, she happily took the role of ‘head of security’ for the young heir and his new wife, becoming just as much part of the family as anyone bound by blood or marriage. Much like the nagual, two families became one, and became all the stronger for it.

“Jeeze calm down already.” Nessa’s voice followed the much more eager one. “It’s just muffins, you’ve had muffins.”

“Yea but aunt Ilsa’s muffins are awesome!” Came the other voice, younger, louder, but with the same accent as Nessa’s.

Patli came tearing down the stairs near diving into the kitchen, the young girl dressed haphazardly in a loose green shirt and baggy shorts, favoring lots of movement over any fashion it seemed.

To a first glance she seemed like any other youth, and as the other Roche children joined her the only thing that really made her stand apart from them was her obvious Central American heritage. When one took a closer look, though, some other differences became clearer.

Her long black hair was just like Nessa’s, though it seemed to have the occasional glimpse of green in it, as if dyed in certain parts, though the spots never seemed to be in the same place twice. Her eyes were also odd, again green like Nessa’s but when she would blink too fast they seemed to fade away, leaving only empty sockets she seemed to have no issue seeing through.

A nagual is a powerful magician, and as any magician can tell you the greatest powers are rarely free.

For some like Nessa that power came from blood, spilled by herself and her foes offered as tribute to the gods. For others, those who needed more consistent power, sacrifices were often bigger, such as one the Roche family would know well, the loss of one’s eyes in exchange for constant access to the power of one’s patron god.

Huitzilopochtli, god of war and the sun, patron of sacrifices to keep the sun alight, and lord of the capital of the Aztec empire. An imposing and terrifying figure… and one whose symbol was, surprisingly to many, a hummingbird.

Though, looking at Patli as one of his most devoted followers it’d be fairly obvious. Small, yes, but full of energy, and passion, as was clear as she practically shoveled half of the tray of muffins into her mouth.

“Ugh... Patli... disgusting. Leave some for the other kids you brat.” Nessa chided, the older girl wearing a simple black pair of workout pants and a purple tank top, though she kept her black leather gloves on mainly out of politeness for others than practicality…

“I can’t help it, Nes! I’m STARVING!” Patli whined as she shoved another baked good into her mouth. One downside to all that hummingbird energy, the girl had a hummingbird’s metabolism as well, able to put away portions that’d make a man twice her size sick and still have room for dessert…

“It’s okay dears...” Ilsa laughed softly. “You don��t live in a house with Patli as long as I have without knowing how to make two trays.” she winked, pulling the second one out just as Patli seemed to finally be sated for now, falling back in her chair with a satisfied burp.

“Logistics aside, have some manners, brat.” Nessa smirked, lightly swatting her sister’s head as she passed. “If Alice asks, tell her I’m on my morning run, I’ll eat when I’m back.”

“Oh wait." Ryan said before moving to the coat rack where his jacket hung, pulling a small leather journal out of the pocket. “I finished translating that book your mother needed, be a dear and jog by her office on the way?”

“Yea no problem boss.” Nessa winked teasingly, the girl having been raised more like a member of the family than ‘the help’ even when she followed her mother’s footsteps to actually join the security team, but she still liked to tease both Alice and her parents about the position despite her closeness.

Ana lived in the ‘guest estate’ which truly did not capture exactly what it was. While most would assume that would be a smaller, lesser, house, the guest estate was only ‘smaller’ in the most literal sense, being ‘just’ two floors. When Ana first moved in she went to work right away, turning the house into a small fortress really, a place where she and the security team could have near unlimited access to the house’s security systems and keep any tools or weapons needed for ‘advanced threats’ both mundane and supernatural.

That was where Ana spent most of her time, the woman finding it comfortable to work ‘from home’ as it were. She and Ryan were the same age, but she wore it a bit harder than him. While he had just some streaks of graying hair hers had fully skipped to straight bone white, and she required the use of a cane to move around these days. Though, neither could be blamed purely on age.

She was who taught Nessa her arts, and her body showed it. Gloves like her daughter’s, as well as long sleeved clothing at all times, hid her own network of scars, and that white hair came as the result of an encounter in the realm of spirits she never spoke of again, even to her daughters. The cane came as a result of the rather brutal scar along her right side, as if she was sliced open from the side by some great claw. She wore these marks with pride, though, a testament to years of study and combat that most wouldn’t survive.

“Oi, mom.” Nessa called without knocking, making her way up the stairs to her mother’s office. “Ryan’s got your book done. What’s this one about?” She asked, tossing it onto the desk as her mother frowned.

“You know, security exists for you too, a knock and ID would be nice to see some time.”

“Oh okay.” Nessa smirked, pulling one of her gloves off and waving the scar covered hand at her mother. “Hi mama it’s me, the kid you pushed out of you in the middle of a jungle while hunting some spirit jaguar. Sorry I left my wallet on my girlfriend’s nightstand but I was too busy absolutely rocking the world of the heir to the Roche family fortune to remember it.” She grinned wickedly, putting her glove back on. “Better?”

“You should be grateful.” Ana rolled her eyes, though Nessa knew when she turned her chair to ‘check a screen’ behind her she was smirking. “When I was being trained my tutor would have whipped me bloody if I spoke to her that way.”

“Mhm, yea, I’m downright pampered huh...” Nessa teased as she poked the book cover. “Seriously, what's this one?”

“Oh.” Ana mused as she turned back, taking the book. “A book on demonology one of our guys grabbed from a compound down south. Normal cult stuff, abductions, brainwashing, sacrifice, that deal.” she continued as she casually flipped through the book. “One of the books they had may have been more legitimate than the others though, but it’s all in Latin, don’t speak a lick so I had Ryan help out.”

“Huh, think they summoned anything legit?” Nessa asked, crossing her arms. Despite her casual attitude she did take her work seriously even before her relationship with Alice.

“Maybe, or maybe they just got lucky and one real book got mixed in a bunch of bullshit. Best to keep on top of things with this stuff though.” Ana continued, flipping the pages lazily. “Oh speaking of on top of things…”

“Alice is still in our room...” Nessa smirked.

“Shut up.” her mother answered just as quickly. “Go to the garden and make sure Francis is doing his training, you know how the maids spoil him. He’s getting older, soon he’ll be joining you two in the field if we need to.”

“Mhm, can’t have the maids coddle the blind ten year old can we?” Nessa teased.

“In this family? No. Need I remind you about Alice’s training regimen when she was his age? Now be a good security worker and secure the second heir.” Ana teased, making a ‘shoo’ motion with her hand as she kept reading the book.

“Yea yea, remember how often we snuck off to avoid that regime?” Nessa called back as she made her way out of the office, accepting that her morning workout had been replaced by morning chores.

Francis Roche was currently hiding. Not out of any real fear or danger, but rather to avoid the very annoyed maid currently searching the garden for him… ”Master Francis I swear your mother will be SO mad at you if you don’t do your drills today! You’re already behind!” the woman huffed, jamming the stick of the broom she carried through the tree’s leaves nearest her.

“Trouble with the munchkin?” Nessa smirked as she walked up on the scene, the young woman in a rather elegant maid’s uniform looking rather out of place jabbing her broom through every tree she passed with an annoyed huff.

“He seems to think today’s lesson is in stealth tactics and not sword fighting...” the maid called loud enough for the hiding boy to hear as Nessa laughed softly.

“Mhm, see you’re coming at it from the wrong angle...” she winked, looking around for a moment. “See a PROPER Roche brat would absolutely climb a tree, get the height advantage, jump down on you when you least expect it… But young master Francis knows that, and knows YOU know that so if he was truly planning a PROPER ambush he’d be… DOWN HERE!” Nessa beamed, suddenly dipping down to reach behind a flower bush, pulling up a kicking and giggling young boy with short dirty blonde hair, his eyes as white as Alice’s. “Gotcha!”

“No fair, you cheated somehow!” The boy laughed loudly, hugging Nessa as she patted his head.

“Nah, I just have lots of experience with bratty and blind Roche kids.” she teased, setting him down. “Especially ones who like to shirk morning training.”

“Training’s BORING, I wanna fight monsters for real!” Francis huffed. “I'm a Roche, a hunter in the darkness, I should be fighting… I dunno… goblins?”

“Oh goblins huh? Quick! Tell me the two main traits that differentiate goblins and hobgoblins then!” Nessa grinned, motioning for the maid to hand her her broom.

“Oh! Uh, uh...” the boy said quickly, obviously thinking. “Hobgoblins tend to be more aggressive and active than goblins, and uh… goblins tend to be more diplomatic and deal making sorts while hobgoblins are more pranksters and tricksters?”

Nessa smirked at that, bonking the boy on the head with her broom lightly.

“Ow! What?! I got those right!” He huffed angrily.

“You did, and yet you still got bonked! Curious!” Nessa teased, another hit from the broom whacking him in the side.

“Quit it! I’m telling!” Francis fumed, hands flailing to try to stop the next hit.

“Telling who, young master? Who are you going to run crying to like a helpless little blind boy?” Nessa grinned as she swept the broom handle across the ground, knocking the boy’s feet from under him and sending him falling on his butt!

“No fair! I got my question right! why are you being so mean?!”

“Because, my little friend...” Nessa grinned as she reached down to help him up. “Knowing everything about the supernatural world is good, but it doesn’t mean anything if you can’t defend yourself when needed. Do you think a vampire will go ‘oh wait you know all the facts about my kind? Well never mind then, carry on’? Or a werewolf will decide not to maul you because you know the difference between the wolf father and the great white wolf?”

“No…” The boy pouted, rubbing his side still.

“So be a good little Roche and practice fighting, and next time I try to sucker hit you, knock me on my ass. Then maybe we’ll talk about when you begin proper work. I promise we’ll save a goblin for you.” she winked, the boy giggling as he could hear the change in her tone as her face changed to wink at him.

“See? Already doing well!” she continued. “Now be good, listen to Martha, she trained Alice in sword fighting and you know how deadly your sister is.”

Francis nodded at that, the boy huffing a bit but obeying as he went to follow the maid to her lesson.

By the time Nessa got back to the house everyone else was awake and moving about. The Roche house was typically a pretty busy one, between the staff and the rather large Roche family proper; most rooms had people coming and going through them.

One room that was kept fairly ‘sacred,' though, was the room at the top floor, next to the observatory. That room had been one of the first rooms built in the house once the basic construction was done, a very literal ‘seat of power’ that once was simply a glorified throne room and study and now turned into a more proper office. Ryan was there, standing behind his desk as Alice stood in front of it.

“So, according to my sources the lick I set loose seems to be learning well. She knows how to feed now, her mentor is making sure she does it smart. Next part is getting her a nice night job, maybe setting her up with some other freshbloods and, ya know, maybe we have a fairly functional member of society who happens to be a walking corpse.” Alice smiled, reading off the tablet that had the email from her vampire contact.

“Good...” Ryan said, his voice a bit distant as he looked out the window overlooking the garden. “Why, though?”

“Why? Well can’t exactly get her a day job can we?” Alice grinned.

“No, why her? Why burn your favor with a fairly well connected vampire just for a week old vampire?” His voice wasn’t judgemental, it was almost sad even.

Alice paused at that. The woman took her earbuds out and said "Alexa, pause audio playback." before setting her tablet down. “Because she was a week old. She had no chance before that, her first moments in undeath were being some group’s plaything. I thought she deserved a chance.”

“And what if she blows that chance? What if in another week or so she’s draining people, raging out, unable to control her primal side?”

“Then I’ll kill her.” Alice answered calmly. “And she’ll have had a chance.”

Ryan chuckled softly, a melancholy sound more than an amused one as he watched Francis and Martha spar in the garden. “Do you ever hate this?” He asked softly. “This job, this pact… me? Do you ever wish you were just a normal rich socialite, even a blind one?”

“Sometimes...” Alice answered honestly, not wanting to disrespect Ryan by lying to him about a truth they both knew. “Sometimes I hate all this. Sometimes when I can’t save someone, sometimes when the job is painful, sometimes when it’s just unpleasant or gross or difficult, and yea sometimes I hate how I was raised. I wish I had a real childhood, not raised like a little soldier, I wish I could run around outside without being afraid of a fae luring me away or go party at night without wondering if a vampire was about to jump me.”

Ryan sighed softly at that, shaking his head. “So do you think I’m ruining Francis’ life? Do you think… maybe my brother and sister dying was a sign? Something about how these ways aren’t right?”

“Sometimes...” Alice continued. “Other times, though, I’m incredibly grateful for this life. Other times I think about how just being blissfully unaware about those fae and vampires and such doesn’t mean they’re not actually out there. Other times I think about how if I didn’t grow up how I did I’d never be with Nessa and never be around my family and how miserable that’d be. I was raised like a soldier, and it sucks, but it doesn’t ALL suck. I can help people like this. I can do good, and honestly sometimes this job is… beautiful. Dad I gave someone who literally died last week a second chance at life, and yea maybe she’ll fuck it up and we’ll handle it but… maybe she WON’T."

"Maybe because of how you raised me someone innocent didn’t have to die the other night just because she was a ‘monster’ by circumstances she couldn’t control. I did that because YOU raised me. You taught me that ‘monster’ isn’t an inherent thing, it’s something you choose, and it’s something anyone can choose to be regardless of what side of the line they were born on.” Alice moved around the desk, hugging Ryan from behind as she did. “And yes, dad, your brother and sister would be proud of how you lead this family.”

Ryan shuddered slightly, the man holding back a soft sob as he ran his hand along Alice’s arm. “Thank you, dear. I think I needed that. I’ve just been so… worried. You’re growing into such a strong young hunter, Francis is approaching his own time to shine. Soon it won’t be me leading this family, you two will be taking over and I just want to leave you the best legacy I can.”

“The family legacy is exactly this, dad.” Alice smiled. “Yea, it’s not the most normal or… healthy… upbringing, but without it we’d be just another militant clan that killed everything too different without a second thought. Francis is learning well, and he’s going to be a great hunter… just like his dad.”

“... and his big sister.” Ryan chuckled, patting her arm. “Thank you, Alice. I’m now more certain than ever of my choice.” He smiled, turning to face her, taking Alice’s hand. “I’m stepping down as the head of the family, and until Francis is of age to join you fully, I’m making you our new head.”

Some choices leave ripples, others leave waves that shake things long after they crash. Sometimes they’re small choices at first.

A young witch from Sweden meets a young French warrior while his family is hunting a troll and years later they’re the heads of one of the most powerful houses in Europe.

A young nagual sees a pair of outsiders fighting for her people’s freedom and decides to help them, and soon two powerful families are united as one.

Two young hunters are slain by a cruel and sadistic spirit, and the clan is taken over by a man filled with vengeance and in awe of his family legacy who spends his life improving it.

That same man, feeling the weight of years of loss and legacy, sees his daughter doing an act of mercy he no longer is sure he’d offer in her position and decides it’s time for him to step aside before his spitefulness can become a poison.

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#fiction #modern fantasy #supernatural adventures #lgbtq