Poe the Hunter- Bedlam in Baltimore

by Nathan Galion

  “That is wonderful news! I could not be happier that you and Quincy have discovered a way to kill the villain you are hunting! Marvelous! I pray you tell me the weapon you need.”

  “I’m in need of a duo of bows and arrows, but not your standard run-of-the-mill kind. The arrowheads must be golden, and the bow must retract the arrow immediately after it has been discharged. This method will ensure the sceidras will be killed as soon as Quincy and I inject each with the blood of their own kin. We cannot waste time and energy fetching arrows from the bodies of the sceidras, then stabbing their brothers with it. Plus, that would be much too dangerous and inefficient.”

  Walter’s smile disappeared and a look of disappointment took its place. “I’m afraid this is a weapon unfamiliar to me. My inventory and skills are not suited for this assignment, Edgar. I apologize for the delay this causes you but give me a moment as I believe I know a fellow who may be able to serve you well.”

  Poe looked at Walter with a smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I never want to hear you apologize again. You have always come through for me in the past and I completely understand that this is a complicated and unusual weapon I am seeking.”

  In a tender moment, Walter smiled at Poe and patted him on his shoulder to reassure him that he harbored no grudges. He then stepped away in deep thought to consider where he could send Poe to get this strange weaponry he needed. Poe watched Walter, staring at him with anticipation. Poe was beginning to fidget when Walter’s voice finally broke the tension in the air.

  “There is a goldsmith in Baltimore who can assemble the unique weapon you desire. His business is a ten-minute walk from here. it is located on Jefferson Street and has a sign with the words Pembroke’s Production Shop. The man you need to speak with is Paul Pembroke. He is the goldsmith who might be able to construct this killer contraption.”

  Poe thanked Walter for referring him to the goldsmith and bade him farewell. He exited the shop and walked in the direction of Jefferson Street. As he passed by a couple of bakeries, the scrumptious aromas filled his nostrils and teased his taste buds causing his mouth to water.

  As he approached the street leading to the goldsmith’s shop, the sound of an approaching carriage caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder. To his surprise, the passenger was none other than the beautiful Ms. Osgood. The sight of her stopped Poe in his tracks and his heart began pounding in a rapid, hasty beat. He was tempted to signal for the carriage to halt, but quickly quashed this idea because he wasn’t ready for a meeting with her quite yet.

  He watched longingly as the carriage passed by him and noticed that Ms. Osgood never looked in his direction, which consumed him with a mixture of relief and frustration. If she had seen him and demanded that the carriage stop so she could greet him, it would have been a completely different kind of scenario. But alas, this was not fate’s plan. Regardless, Poe was content in the fact that he got a glimpse of her loveliness and was more than happy to wait for the right time for his first encounter with her.

  Before he realized it, the hunter was standing in front of Pembroke’s Production Shop. The sign was exactly as Walter had described. Upon entering, Poe’s eyes studied its interior and spotted multiple display cases filled with fine crafts made of solid gold or accented with the precious metal such as jewelry, silverware, plates, and pottery.

  This shop was nearly as small as Walter’s, but there was one unique difference between the two locations. The goldsmith had no workshop in the back; he crafted all his wares within the same room as the displays. Poe could see a room in the rear of the shop, but the stacked boxes told him that this space was dedicated to storage only. Furthermore, the goldsmith did not have a bell to notify him of a client’s entrance. Therefore, Poe had to resort to another way of alerting the goldsmith to his presence. “Mr. Pembroke? Mr. Pembroke? Are you present?”

  The hunter’s calls were answered by a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties. He had salt and pepper hair and he wore a loose-fitting blue shirt with yellow trousers. His clothes were stained with a black substance that appeared to be ash or some other type of dark residue.

  “My apologies for not greeting you upon your entrance, sir,” Paul said. “I am Paul Pembroke. How may I assist you today?”

  “It is with great pleasure to meet you, Paul. My name is Edgar and I need your particular professional assistance because you are a master at crafting items from gold.”

  “I will attempt my best, Edgar. Describe the item you need.”

  “I pray that you can craft a weapon for me, but this is no ordinary weapon, my good man. It is one of complicated planning and unique detail because it will serve an unearthly purpose.”

  Paul looked at Poe with a mixture of fascination, curiosity, and suspense. He wondered what Poe was talking about and could not wait to hear the answer. “A weapon? I must admit that I have not created a weapon in a long time. Tell me, Edgar, what makes this weapon so special and do not gloss over any details.”

  “It is a bow and arrow, but so much more. The arrows must be golden, but most importantly is the style of the bow, which must be capable of withdrawing the arrow once it is shot. I need two of these weapons.”

  Paul looked at Poe with wide expressionless eyes. He could not believe what was being asked of him. Worried that Paul might think he attempting to pull a prank, Poe held up his hands and continued to explain in a comforting tone, “I know this is a tall order for you to handle, but I need you to trust me. I would not dare go anywhere in Baltimore if I did not trust you, Paul. Walter Burrison was the one who recommended you and I beg for your help. I would be lying if I told you that I did not understand the position I am putting you in, but you are the one who can help me.”

  After Poe finished his discourse, Paul’s expression calmed as he was ready to consider what this task would entail. “Although I have never created an item such as the one you are describing, it does offer me the opportunity to create a rare article and explore uncharted territory within my career. This project can also bolster my business and my reputation.”

  “Will you do it, Paul? If so, you would make me the happiest man in Baltimore today and for all eternity!”

  With a flash of confidence in his eyes, Paul grinned and agreed to create the weapons Poe wanted. The hunter jumped up in the air with excitement and celebration. He shook Paul’s hand and passionately thanked for accepting the assignment. “I will pay whatever price you desire!” he added.

  “I’m glad you mentioned the price,” Paul responded. “This is a complex item you are requesting; thus, you will pay the appropriate wage. But we won’t discuss this matter until after I finish the product. Allow me three to four days to complete this task.”

  “You, sir, have a deal!” Poe exclaimed as he shook Paul’s hand again. He bade the goldsmith farewell and exited the building.

  Chapter 8

  Darkness blanketed the city as Quincy sat in the parlor enjoying an encore read of The Myth of Daniel Moore. Still reeling with excitement about discovering the true method of killing a sceidra, he decided to entertain himself by reading the book for a second time. He revisited the grisly details of how the legendary hunter killed three sceidras with his dagger. A jolt of energy traveled down the hunter’s spine as he read this account and a maniacal smile spread across his face.

  Returning from his meeting with Paul Pembroke, Poe entered the house and saw Quincy sitting in Poe’s wingback chair consuming the book about the sceidra hunter, which caused Poe to scowl and wrinkle his brow.

  “I hazard a guess that you’re rereading the book for pleasure and leisure,” he proposed, “but perhaps you’re so distracted that you failed to notice whose property you’re sitting on…my property, Nathaniel. So, I suggest that you eject your buttocks from my chair and settle into your own.”

  Quincy stood up from the chair. “Good afternoon to you, as well! And, yes,
I am rereading the book for pleasure because I am unbelievably excited about our upcoming battle with the sceidras. I’m incredibly fascinated by the story of how Daniel Moore first discovered the disappearances of townspeople, then ventured into the forest where he found the murderous creatures and managed to kill all three of them before he himself became one of their victims. However, his death was not in vain! We will owe our success over the sceidras because of his legacy even though it is centuries after the fact, wouldn’t you agree, Edgar?”

  “Yes, Quincy, I agree with you,” Poe sighed as he sank into his chair, closed his eyes, and stretched his arms over his head to rid himself of the fatigue that plagued his body.

  Ignoring Poe’s obvious attempt at relaxation, he pressed the matter with another question. “Have you found a way to obtain the weapon you told me about? The bow and arrow you invented in your mind. Have you thought of a way to make these weapons manifest in real life?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have. Today, I paid a visit to Walter and filled his brain with all the details about the sceidras and the weapons we need to eradicate them, but such tools are beyond his capabilities. Therefore, he pointed me to a goldsmith named Paul Pembroke.” Poe opened his tired eyes and looked at his hunting partner who was listening intently. “He’s the man, Quincy, who will manufacture our weapons, but we must be remain patient as it is going to take him three or four days to make them a reality.”

  Quincy furrowed his brow and frowned. “Poe, you must be joking. We cannot wait another day! We must act fast to eradicate the dangers that lurk throughout the forest! Why can’t we just use the golden daggers we already possess? We can slay these creatures in the exact same manner that our heroic predecessor did! We will plunge our daggers into one sceidra, then infect the other sceidras with the blood, then stab the first one again before he can rise from the ground. Simple!”

  Poe’s nostrils flared as he leaned forward in his chair and glared at Quincy through narrowed bloodshot eyes, “No! Not simple! Have you learned nothing from the last battle? If not, then think of how Daniel Moore perished! Hand-to-hand combat is impossible with the sceidras! They will overpower us! Do you want to be hypnotized again? Do you want their claws slicing into your gut causing your innards to spill onto the ground? We must wait until our weapons are ready, so we can strike swiftly from afar. Otherwise, we meet our doom.”

  “How many times have you told me this before? That we will meet our doom? And yet, here we are! Alive and haven’t met our doom! As much as I agree with you, I also do not agree with you about sitting around, waiting, and doing nothing! We are hunters, as you always claim! Even though we can’t save everybody from the monsters we face, we also do not sit around waiting for anybody! We take action, Edgar, and that is how we minimize the number of deaths!”

  “You are right in that aspect, Quincy! I dare not deny that! But we are facing a unique situation! We are facing a circumstance that cannot be navigated around! This is a weapon that is sure to kill our enemies. But we must wait until it is created and ready for use. Trust me, my good man! We cannot go into this battle ill-prepared and lose again! I will not allow it!”

  “Fine! I guess we can just sit in our parlor, drink alcohol, drink tea, drink and consume food and air, while the sceidras roam the forest, eating the trees and leaves and possibly reproducing! Therefore, our problem multiplies while we are taking no course of action and just sitting on our buttocks!”

  In response to Quincy’s tirade, Poe formed an expression of confusion on his face. “Since when have you become an environmentalist, caring about landscapes and their foliage? And sceidras don’t reproduce. They don’t have the power to do so. They are created and that is final. Therefore, it is safe to say you are introducing a dramatization with an unlikely scenario.”

  “That is not my point, Edgar. My point is we cannot afford to take no action.”

  “What are you worried about? There are no deaths occurring and the only thing that is being killed are the contents of the forest. We have read many newspapers these past few days and not one death has been reported. You must understand that I do not want us to lose again. The sceidras will die, but only in due time.”

  With Poe’s dialogue concluded, Quincy shifted his eyes away from him and stared down at the floor. He knew that his partner was right and was embarrassed for his pompous behavior and brash suggestion. Quincy deduced that since no murders had happened in recent days that the situation was not as dire as he perceived it to be. Quincy decided it was best to change the subject. “There came a piece of post for you today, Edgar. It is from the same woman, Ms. Osgood.”

  Poe felt a jolt of electricity pass through his body, “Where is it located?”

  “It is located on the stand near the door.”

  Poe leaped from his chair and ran to retrieve the post. But before he hurried to his room, Quincy stopped him and probed the man about what was happening. “Edgar, what is the matter with you?”

  Fuddled by his partner’s question, Poe responded with his own question. “What do you mean?”

  “I have been observing you as of late and I have come up with the conclusion that your personal life is fulfilled by a secret event that you have hidden from me. Every time there is a post in this house, you scramble to the door to retrieve it. Is there something you’re not telling me? I have reason to believe so.”

  “No, there is nothing you need to know, Quincy. Your worries have no base. But I do have private affairs that are outside your scope and power to know.”

  “I’m not worried. But you have been acting a bit stranger than usual as of late. Every time you receive a letter from this individual, ‘Ms. Osgood,’ you act excited. Who is she?”

  “That is an answer you will retrieve from me at a later time. But right now, I have business I must attend to. We will talk about this later.” Poe ran to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

  Stupefied by Poe’s actions, Quincy shook his head and mumbled, “I have never been in the company of a man so excited by the delivery from a courier.”

  • • •

  Relishing the privacy of his room, Poe read the letter from Frances with enthusiasm and anticipation. Frances stated that the purpose of the letter was a “follow-up to the previous letter” she sent him and that she wanted to make sure that the letter reached Poe. Upon reading this, Poe felt guilty about failing to immediately respond to Frances because he was so distracted by the weapons he needed to procure.

  He was suddenly struck with an idea that some might consider foolish. Poe decided that he would do the unimaginable by paying Frances a surprise visit. While unconventional, he thought it would be an interesting and positive way to meet her. Focusing his attention on the letter again, he read further and encountered his own surprise – she expected to see him one day!

  “My lonely heart could use a companion to heal its solitary wounds,” she wrote. “We have been writing letters to each other, but I long to talk to you in person. I want to see your lips move and I want to hear your voice. My eyes need to see your face and your appearance right in front of me.”

  Frances’ letter concluded with a flirty suggestion to Poe that he not disappoint her and that she expected him to respond to her immediately upon receiving this letter. But Poe would do no such thing. He knew in his mind that he would not fail her wish but would rather make it come true in the most creative way possible.

  Chapter 9

  Many hours after the morning’s drenching rain, the sun’s rays poked through the clouds as Poe was standing beside his bed oblivious to the outside world. He was preparing for his romantic surprise visit at Frances’ home, and clothes were strewn across his bed because he could not make up his mind about what to wear. He looked at each suit and cravat, each vest and pant, and various dress shirts, but nothing seemed suitable for the impression he wanted to make.

  Quincy walked by h
is room, but Poe was unmindful to the sound of his approaching footsteps. Seeing his hunting partner’s wardrobe covering the bed, Quincy entered and surprised Poe with a gregarious question. “What are you doing, my good lad? Packing for a long trip you have yet to tell me about?”

  Rubbing his forehead, Poe turned to face Quincy, “No, I am deciding on a suit to wear for tonight. I am planning on surprising a someone who I happen to care deeply about.”

  Quincy was overcome with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. “Who is this individual, Edgar?”

  Poe did not reply immediately as his mind was reeling. While he was not quite ready to break the news to Quincy about his infatuation with Frances, he knew he could not keep his friend in the dark any longer.

  “I’m planning to visit Ms. Osgood. The woman with whom I have been corresponding with via the post.”

  At the sound of this name, Quincy’s eyes grew wide as he realized why Poe had been acting so strangely and secretive whenever her letters would arrive.

  “Ms. Osgood… Frances,” Poe continued, “became a resident of Baltimore a few weeks ago. We have been writing letters to each other and I am hoping to become better acquainted with her, so we may have a relationship in the future.”

  The warming sensation of curiosity that Quincy originally felt in his veins was immediately replaced with red hot anger. His cohort’s words ignited a series of unpleasant and negative ideas. “A relationship? Have you gone insane?” the bloke shouted. “You cannot be in a relationship, Edgar! You are a hunter. As hunters, we dedicate our life to tracking the supernatural. Remember, the monsters who roam the streets and every landscape of the earth? We are the ones who seek them, then kill them!”

  “Do you not think I know that? I realize I am a hunter – albeit of the amateur level according to how you are treating me right now. How, in your opinion, can a relationship impact a hunter’s life in a negative way?”