He opened the notebook, flipped to a random page, and began to read. Frances, meanwhile, watched the expression on his face hoping to gauge what he was thinking as his eyes drifted over the words she had written. The poem he chose was about a lonely woman who treaded in a field of flowers and observed the vibrant colors of each flower. All the flowers were full-grown and healthy, except for one. It was dying and its color was fading fast.
The unnamed female narrator wept when she saw the doomed flower and, therefore, was desperate to save it from its impending death. She used her supernatural powers to suck the life and color from all the surrounding flowers, then transferred their energy into the suffering one. The entire field lost its loveliness and vibrance to the one flower that the woman saved. It was a dark poem in the nature Poe most appreciated, so Frances had high hopes that he was enjoying the read.
Poe’s eyes widened upon finishing the final line and looked at Frances with an enormous smile. “I will not give you any constructive feedback on this poem. Instead, I will express the maximum admiration I could ever muster. While I have read lovely poems throughout the years, none of them can hold a candle to the one you have presented here. You, my dear Frances, will become famous and successful if you continue to write in this manner. I am confident of it!”
Frances was touched by his graceful sentiment and thanked Poe for his approval. She suddenly noticed the time and realized how hungry she was but did not want to be rude to her guest. Therefore, she invited him to stay and enjoy a meal with her. “I would like it if you joined me for supper. Plus, it would give me the opportunity to show my appreciation for your visit.”
The hunter was reluctant to accept Frances’ offer. In his mind, he felt that only a buffoon allows a woman to slave over a stove during their first meeting. “Please, there’s no need to go to the trouble of cooking for two. I will leave and let your day return to normal.”
“Nonsense! How can you suggest such a thing? It is no trouble making a meal for the both of us! Stay and be comfortable.”
Poe relented after much insistence from Frances, so he remained in the parlor feasting on her poetry while she prepared their meals. After an hour had passed, Frances appeared smelling of cooking oil and grease and her apron was wrinkled and splashed with drippings of various colors. Smiling at Poe, she curtsied, then pretended to wipe sweat from her brow as she announced, “Our meal awaits, kind sir!”
The table in Frances’ kitchen was covered with bowls of corn, beans, and potatoes, and two plates were set at opposite ends with a roasted Cornish hen on each of them. The scene instantly caused Poe’s mouth to water and he quickly took a seat. “This is an extravagant dinner, Frances! How will I ever repay you for your kindness and generosity?”
“Don’t be silly! I like to treat my guests with hospitality and care. Go ahead, indulge!”
During the meal, the two talked about what their lives were like before settling in Baltimore. Poe told Frances about the death of Virginia, but instead of revealing the true cause of her demise, he lied and said she suffered a heart attack. He also was untruthful about his parents’ deaths by stating that they were killed in a carriage accident. He felt awkward about not telling the Francis the truth, but he simply was not ready to reveal that all his loved ones were stolen from him by ghouls, which would force him to reveal that he was a hunter. He thought it best to wait until they were better acquainted before he stunned Francis with the truth about his loved ones’ deaths as well as the shocking news that he came from a long line of hunters as this was a calling that flowed throughout his family’s bloodline.
Frances felt sympathy and sadness for Poe’s past and stated that her sorrow could never compare to his. “The only pain I’ve ever felt was when my husband left me. To his luck, he was not killed nor was he a victim of a painful, ill death.”
“No need to compare the degrees of our torments. The main essence being that our pasts were both filled with harsh events and unspeakable realities.”
Frances smiled and agreed with Poe, and they went back to their dinner. Soon, however, Poe looked at the pocket watch tucked inside the breast pocket of his suit and noticed it was getting late. “My God in heaven! Where did the time go? Unfortunately, it is time for me to depart.” Poe stood up from the table and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin that was in his lap. “Francis, thank you for this most wonderful meal and the hospitality you have provided! I promise to see you again soon as I have greatly enjoyed your company.”
Upon hearing Poe’s decision to leave, Frances expressed disappointment on her face, but was glad to have met Poe for the first time in such a wonderful way. “The pleasure has been all mine, Edgar, and I will think back on this day fondly. Thank you again for visiting and keeping me company tonight. Let’s do it again someday soon. Please, come by any time you wish, but do not be sulky when you find me unavailable.”
“Not to worry. I will understand with all my heart. It was an honor and pleasure meeting you as well! Take care of yourself and have a good night!”
With these words, the pair bade each other farewell and Poe stepped into the brisk night air closing the door behind him.
In an abandoned warehouse near the harbor of the metropolis, Poe drew a pentagram with a paintbrush preparing to summon the demon. He recited the incantation and waited a few minutes for Alkazan to appear in front of him, inside the pentagram. Finally, the demon appeared and laughed loudly upon seeing the hunter. “Mr. Poe, I should have known you it was you calling me forth.”
“You leave her alone, you wretched dog!” Poe shouted. “Have you not learned your lesson from the last time we met? I have a weapon and I am not afraid to use it against you!”
“Are you sure?” the demon asked. “Because I believe you are sorely mistaken,” he proposed as he started cackling once again.
Stifling his anger, Poe considered the demon’s words and formed a puzzled look on his face. He had no clue as to what the disgusting fiend was referring to. “I demand you explain this instant what you mean.”
“It means, Edgar Allan Poe, you have no weapon to use against me! You dunce, I know about your so-called demon knife,” he bellowed. “I was told by another of my kind that you were sold a fraudulent knife, which means that the joke is on you!” he exclaimed as he burst into another fit of laughter. “While you were successful in deceiving me previously, I now have the upper hand.”
Poe donned a smile after Alkazan concluded his dialogue. The demon’s face experienced the inverse process. His smile disappeared and a look of confusion appeared in its place. “What part of my dialogue amuses you? How can you stand there with a grin on your face after learning you’ve been played for a fool?”
“Simple. I did, and still do, have a real demon knife in my possession,” Poe revealed as it was his turn to laugh. “What you heard from your associate was nothing but a lie. You not only got tricked once, but twice! I never made such a transaction nor was there ever a fraudulent blade. You are more naïve and pathetic than I thought you to be!”
“I think you are lost in disbelief that you have purchased a mere theater prop!” Alkazan mused.
To prove the demon wrong, Poe drew the weapon from his breast pocket, so Alkazan could see that it was indeed the same knife as it possessed the same appearance and identical features as the blade he brandished during their last confrontation. Upon seeing the knife, Alkazan began to fidget and tremble as Poe further terrified him by waving the blade directly in front of his face. Poe shouted, “Demons can’t touch a demon knife without feeling pain! Therefore, I invite you to grasp this knife between the palms of your hands.”
“You’re joking!” Alkazan scoffed. “You can’t be serious!”
“Oh, but I am. I dare you to touch my knife. If you don’t experience any aching or burning sensation, you will have called my bluff. Although, if you experience a searing pain, you will realize that I am bein
g honest, and your demonic associate is the true joker you need to go after.”
Alkazan accepted the wager and demanded Poe hand the knife to him. In a stroke of defiance, Poe threw the blade at the demon who caught it by the handle. But Alkazan’s hand immediately began to sizzle and burn, then it became engulfed in flames. Alkazan dropped the blade onto the ground and screamed out in pain proving Poe was telling the truth. When Alkazan released his grasp on the knife, the fire consuming his hand disappeared, but left charred flesh in its wake.
“You truly are dumb as a rock!” Poe exclaimed.
“What do you want from me?” Alkazan lamented.
“Leave Frances alone! I care about her and she is mine! Nobody, especially a son of Lucifer, will take her away from me! Go back to the realm where you belong and do not tread upon the streets of Baltimore ever again! Otherwise, you will leave me no choice but to use this knife on you! Have I made myself clear?” Poe growled.
Clutching his injured hand, the demon began to laugh. He found it ridiculous that Poe was protecting a woman with whom he was not married nor even engaged to. “Why do you care about Frances? She does not know you. You are not hitched to her, and she is not your property. Thus, you cannot treat her as though she belongs to you.”
“She does know me. Not that it is any of your business, but we have been corresponding with each other for some time now and I’ll have you know that I met her today in person. We enjoyed a delightful meal together and we had long conversations about topics you would not have the intelligence to discuss. In fact, it fills me with great happiness that she did not mention you once.”
“Pitiful mortal that you are, she did not tell you about our romantic stroll because she did not want to hurt your feelings. She is mine, Edgar. Forget her and go find another sweet, naïve girl to spend your last ten years on Earth with.”
“I will do no such thing! We are meant for each other and Frances deserves to hear the truth about you! Once I tell her who, and what, you are, she will reject you and cling to me!”
“You will not reveal who I am, Edgar! I will haunt you for the rest of your days until your soul is mine, then the real fun will begin!” Alkazan sarcastically exclaimed.
Poe decided to cease arguing with Alkazan and looked at his knife. He decided to end the threat of the demon here and now by exterminating him like a cockroach. “We will see about that!” Poe shouted. Before the demon could respond, Poe drew his arm back with lightning speed and hurled the knife at the demon’s head, impaling him with it. Alkazan shrieked as his body erupted into a ball of white-hot flames. Within a matter of seconds, he was reduced to a pile of ashes within the center of the pentagram.
Chapter 11
It had been three days since Poe had commissioned Paul Pembroke to create the weapons he needed, and he was excited to see exactly what Paul had to present. Poe entered the goldsmith shop and called out Paul’s name from the door to make him aware of his arrival. Paul appeared from the storage room and welcomed Poe. “It is good to lay my eyes on you again, Edgar!”
“Likewise, Paul! I must say, I have been suffering extreme anticipation since the last time I saw you and cannot wait to have it come to an end by seeing what you have manufactured,” Poe exclaimed.
Paul smiled and told the hunter he would retrieve the weapon and back in a moment.
While Poe waited, he studied the variety of items surrounding him. He gazed upon a collection of items Paul had been working on, which included gorgeous and delicate rarities such as golden pearls, necklaces, and household utensils. While they were all special, a goblet with various religious markings caught Poe’s attention. Overcome by its appearance, he picked it up and ran his fingertips over the etchings that were of the Star of David, the Holy Cross, and the Taiji.
Unbeknownst to Poe, Paul was standing behind him watching as he admired the golden goblet. Paul cleared his throat to bring Poe back to the present. Startled, Poe jumped and almost dropped the delicate piece.
“Had you broken that, I would have forced you to pay reparations to the young man who ordered it. I can only imagine how disheartened he would be to hear that it is no more,” Paul remarked.
“A young man ordered you to make this fine masterpiece? How old is this lad?” Poe inquired.
“Not too awfully young, but old enough to be in college. He is studying religion and thought it would be amazing to have a chalice engraved with the symbols of the major religions. Therefore, it has been done. I believe he will be by tomorrow to take possession of it.”
Poe was fascinated by the story he just heard, and it almost made him request a similar task from Paul. In his mind, he pictured a golden sword with a dragon etched along the blade or a revolver decorated with the symbol used to vanquish demons. He caught himself getting carried away and rubbed his goatee. He carefully placed the goblet back onto the shelf, then turned to face Paul and smiled. “I cannot wait to see the weapon you have created for me!”
“Of course!” Paul replied as he held it up in front of him, but all Poe could see was an item shrouded with a white cloth. Paul placed it on the counter and revealed the weapon by removing the cloth with a quick flick of his wrist. Upon seeing the deadly invention for the first time, Poe became unexpectedly confused.
“When you assigned me to do this task, Edgar, I must confess that I was never more perplexed in my life than on that day. But the following day, I had an epiphany and realized at once that this weapon you were after was not a new creation at all. The armament you are needing is a crossbow, not a bow and arrow!”
The hunter looked at the crossbow sitting in front of him. It was in the shape of a pistol and its frame was made of wood. The handle was adorned with a metal plate that felt cold and sleek but easy to grip. The barrel was steel and possessed a string that was attached to the latch where the arrow would be placed. Other than the inclusion of the string, Poe was convinced that Paul did not manufacture the weapon. “Was this stored in your shop and never used? Was it shipped to you from another country? I have a strong suspicion that you did not make this weapon.”
“You’re right,” Paul responded. “I did not create the crossbow. This is a weapon endowed to me by Walter when I first opened the shop. He presented it to me as a ceremonial offering with wishes of prosperity rather than for usage because I am not a hunter. Speaking of which, the other crossbow, I neglected to bring it here along with the arrows, which I did create. I will be back quick, lad!”
Paul ran back to the storage room leaving Poe with the crossbow and his growing humiliation. He felt like a dunce. “How could I be so stupid?” he whispered to himself as he thought about all the complicated details he presented to Paul when he should have realized a simple crossbow, albeit modified, was the weapon he needed all along. What made it worse in Poe’s mind was that Paul was not a hunter, but a goldsmith. He should not have known about weapons as much as Poe, yet he was able to figure out a crossbow was needed instead of a bow and arrow.
The goldsmith hurried back to the lobby of his shop and showed Poe the other crossbow along with the golden arrows he created. The arrows were thirty-four inches long and had flame designs near the fletchings.
“These are remarkable arrows, Paul! And these flames are wonderful! Was this design created by your hands?”
“Indeed! I made sure to create a design that would add a unique element to them! And since you were fascinated by the chalice containing the religious symbols, it appears as if I made the right choice!”
“Yes, you have!” Poe exclaimed as he was quite impressed with the care Paul took in his craftsmanship. “I cannot thank you enough for supplying me with these weapons despite the complicated details I provided. I feel embarrassed for commanding you to create a complicated weapon only to realize that the weapon I visualized was readily available. Paul, I am in your debt!”
“Nay! You are a good friend of mine, Edgar, and a
mutual one through Walter. It was a pleasure creating the arrows and it was no trouble at all! The next time you see the old man, tell him I said, ‘thank you’ for sending you my way.”
Poe was eager to get on with his day and quickly broached the topic of pricing. “Since you are to be rewarded for the fruits of your labor, how much do you want for the arrows?”
Paul smiled broadly, “Twenty dollars, my good man!”
Poe reached into his pocket and presented the money to Paul. With the transaction complete, the gentlemen shook hands and the hunter gathered up the weaponry. He bade Paul farewell and thanked him for his services as he walked out the door and into the crisp Baltimore air.
• • •
To test the newly-acquired armaments, Poe hurried to visit Walter because he wanted to gain access to the target range that was set up behind his shop. Finally reaching the door, he opened it and saw his friend arranging items on a shelf. “Walter, it is a delight to see you!”
“Edgar! ‘Tis a pleasure as always!” Walter smiled as he looked at the weapons Poe grasped within his hands. “What do you have there?”
“These are the weapons I just acquired from Paul Pembroke, the man you referred me to. He did not create them, but in fact got them from you, as he relayed to me.”
“Oh, yes, I remember! I did bring him these crossbows as a gift for his grand opening. I did not expect him to use the weapons as he is not keen on the idea of hunting and game collection, but as they are his, he can do with that whatever he chooses, and I am thrilled to see they have made it into the hands of someone who will put them to good use!”
Poe the Hunter- Bedlam in Baltimore Page 8
