“How do you know about the sword?” Fr. Alexander asked with anger and passionate curiosity.
“First of all,” Poe stated. “We should tell you that we are not reporters for a newspaper. Father, you need to sit down and prepare to listen to a lecture of an extraordinary nature.”
Fr. Alexander looked at the hunters with a strange expression on his face. He did not know what they were about to tell him, but he was determined to uncover the truth about their knowledge of the sword of Gabriel. He sat down in his chair behind his desk and looked at the men as a signal to them that he was ready for what they were about to tell him.
“We are hunters. Hunters of the supernatural,” Quincy announced.
The pastor formed a shocked look on his face. It was the most surprising and awe-inspiring proclamation he had ever heard in his entire life. “Supernatural hunters? What exactly do you mean?”
“We hunt evil entities, creatures, monsters, you name it,” Poe said. “There have been suspicious deaths in Baltimore and our investigation revealed that these fine folks died at the hands of monsters. In the Patapsco Forest, more than four people were killed and had their brains, livers, and hearts stolen, which were fed upon by these heinous creatures. This brings us to why we are here.”
After Poe was done speaking, the priest clutched at his heart with an expression of confusion and horror. It was too much information for him to bear at once. “Monsters exist? What world do we live in? Is this some sort of twisted humor?”
“Father,” Quincy said. “You cannot, under any circumstances, reveal what we have told you. This is classified information that, in the hands of the wrong person, can cause chaos, confusion, and even death. We feel we can trust you with this information because you are a wise person who is committed to doing God’s work.”
“And what information is that, my son?”
“We need the sword,” Quincy replied matter-of-factly.
The cleric stood up in anger after hearing Quincy’s words. “Absolutely not! That sword cannot leave the premises of this church! And you have not told me how you came to possess knowledge of the sword!”
“Let me explain,” Poe said. “Through a prayer to God, we were able to determine the location of the sword. We were each sent divine images of this church in our dreams last night, so we dashed here as soon as morning broke. Father Alexander, we must have that sword. The menace is still in existence inside the forest. The worst part of this situation is the fact that we are dealing with the progenitor of the species, and it is required that we use a sword of Gabriel to kill it.”
“The progenitor?” asked Fr. Alexander. “You mean there are progenitors for each monster breed throughout the world? What kind of nightmare do we live in?”
“Enough!” Quincy yelled. “Father, we won’t ask again! Either you hand us the sword or we will take it from the property by force! To answer your question, yes, all monsters are born from an alpha monster! And the alpha for this breed is present in the city and it poses a threat to all of Baltimore’s citizens. Several people have already died brutal, unnecessary deaths because of this evil creature and its offspring! If you will not cooperate with us, then my partner and I will consider it an act of aiding and abetting the evil!”
“But if you help us,” Poe chimed in as an attempt to defuse the level of intensity and anger in the room, “you will be rewarded, not only with the knowledge that your assistance was a catalyst in delivering many people from this evil, but I will personally award you and your church a large charitable donation.”
Fr. Alexander looked at Poe with an unfavorable expression because he had suspicions that Poe was offering this reward in order to influence his decision. “Are you bribing me, sir?”
Poe immediately started shaking his head. “No, never! All I am doing is attempting to persuade you to help us!”
“Through money!” the priest yelled.
“You would be free to spend my donation in any way you desire! Think about it! You could repair the gorgeous rose window that everyone in Baltimore admires! You could obtain new pews for your congregation! There are countless ways you could do good with the money, but all that truly matters in the end is that you helped save the lives of many people. By loaning us the sword, you will be a hero for helping us defeat the alpha. What kind of a priest would you be if you denied us the opportunity to protect so many of God’s children? Do you want to see more deaths in the future? How would you feel gazing upon a headline such as this one?”
Poe reached his hand inside his khaki-colored coat and grabbed the newspaper article about the first pair of deaths in the forest and presented it to the priest. Fr. Alexander stared at the headline: DOUBLE MURDER IN THE PATAPSCO FOREST. He then looked at Poe who was ready to serve the clergyman a fresh round of persuasive reasoning.
Poe tapped his finger on the article. “This is the future for many if you will not comply with our demands. Do not be surprised if headlines such as this one in front of you repeat themselves again and again. If more deaths occur, Father, you will have guilt inside your heart and soul. You will be responsible for any future mortalities because of your refusal to help us. You can ensure a better future for Baltimore by deciding to help us right now. You will begin to save lives at this very moment by allowing us to borrow the sword. Will you help us, sir?”
The priest looked at the hunters, who anxiously awaited his answer. He stared at them with his beady, green eyes, then squinted at them as he attempted to gauge their level of credibility and sincerity. Poe and Quincy stared back pressuring him to reveal his decision as they were more than prepared to break into the church to obtain the sword. Alas, the hunters breathed sighs of relief as the priest finally replied, “If God himself has sent you, who am I to argue against his plans?”
Chapter 17
The men walked through the hallways of the church again as they approached the location of the sword, which was in a secret room underneath the church that was only accessible by the priest’s key. Father Alexander was the sole person who possessed knowledge of the sword, knowledge that he has kept hidden from his parishioners all the years he served the church.
The priest proceeded to tell the hunters about the history of the sword and how it came to Maryland in the first place: “The story of the sword dates back to the colonial era when this church was founded. In 1692, the sword was smuggled from England to the colonies by pilgrim settlers. It ultimately reached the providence of Maryland when the governor, Lionel Copley, founded the church to protect the sword. He went to great lengths to have this church built, so it could house the sword right away. He signed a proclamation called the Establishments Act, which was passed by Maryland’s ruling body, the General Assembly.”
He continued by stating that thirty churches were created in thirty parishes under the Establishments Act to fool British authorities who traveled to the colonies in search of the sword. Furthermore, each parish of Maryland denied the authorities access to each church under civil law, thus the British Crown never recovered the sword and it stayed in Baltimore all the way up to the present day. The parishes then formed an alliance and took an oath to work together to protect the almighty artifact that is known to be one of the swords of Gabriel.
The hunters expressed admiration and fascination with this history lesson and were elated that Father Alexander agreed to loan them the sword. Their excitement was reaching its pinnacle as the pastor led them to a room that contained the entrance to the secret lair of the sword. At first glance, it merely looked like a closet. Father Alexander reached down and gripped the door’s latch, then pulled it upwards to open the entrance to the secret room. The pastor took a lantern that was hanging on the wall near the entrance and lit it using a match he grabbed from within a pocket of his trousers. The room had three flights of stairs, each containing ten steps and the hunters happily followed the priest as he began traveling down the stairwa
y on the far right. Once the men reached the bottom of the stairs, only one light source emanated from the room. When they entered the chamber, they could see that the warm glow was from three lanterns hanging above the glass case that stored the legendary sword.
Poe and Quincy looked at the sword in fascination as they slowly approached it. The cleric stayed back and let the duo gaze upon the sword as it rested in its case. The case itself was covered with dust, but not one speck touched the blade nor handle of the weapon. Its blade was thirty-five inches long, which is mammoth in size compared to the average sword. The edges of the blade were tinted black but the blade itself was gray steel. It had a dark green hilt with a golden jeweled pommel and a golden crossguard. The crossguard had tips that were marked with black-colored royal designs and two diamonds were embedded in each tip.
Before he opened the case, Fr. Alexander flashed a stern look at the gentlemen and issued then a warning. “Gentlemen, although I may have consented to your usage of this weapon, I need to remind you that this sword is a divine creation. Gabriel laid his hands on this sword. Even the mere touch of its hilt upon your skin will send shockwaves through every nerve of your body. If this weapon was indeed crafted for an archangel, then I need not remind you that it must be treated with the utmost respect and is not to be fooled with. Do you understand me?”
The hunters gave each other serious looks, then Quincy took his eyes off Poe and set them on the priest. “Father, we will treat this sword like the divine instrument it is. We understand every word you have uttered, and you need not stress the importance of this sword. My partner and I know as well as you do that this sword is not a toy or a souvenir. We are using it for a good cause and we will not waver from our mission. Fear not. Edgar and I will defeat the evil force that resides in the Patapsco Forest by utilizing this sword in a wise manner.”
“And we promise you, Father,” Poe added. “We will return with this sword in the same exact state that it is now. After we are finished using it, we will clean the blade and erase all evidence of our battle.”
After hearing the reassurances of the hunters, Fr. Alexander donned a smile and extended his hand to the men to thank them for their sincere words. He then fished in his pocket for a second key, then twisted the lock of the glass case and opened it. The glass reflected the light of the three lanterns as the priest pushed the lid up. Fr. Alexander reached both of his hands inside the case. With his left hand, he held the hilt. With his right arm, he reached underneath the blade and gripped it. Using both hands, he lifted the heavy sword and handed it to Poe.
Taking the sword from the priest, Poe’s heart beat faster and more intense than any other moment of his life. This proved that Fr. Alexander was right. It did send electricity and shockwaves through his body. Poe knew he was not holding a baby, but something much rarer. Awestruck, Quincy touched the edges of the blade. He was mystified by its shape and the energy it emitted.
“Mr. Poe. Mr. Quincy…”
“Yes, Father,” the hunters replied in unison.
“Good luck on your mission and be careful. I will see you soon, hopefully with Gabriel’s sword in one piece.”
• • •
Inside their home, the hunters continued to stare at their prized weapon as it laid on a table in the parlor.
“You know, Edgar, in addition to us regaining our hearing, this sword is the best thing that has ever happened to us.”
“I do agree with you, my good man. I almost want to pinch myself just looking it to because this all feels like a dream. And to think there are nine others in the world out there, hidden from the rest of mankind. But not us. We are beyond fortunate to have it here on our home. If this can kill an alpha monster, imagine what else it can kill. It can kill everything else in existence, I wager.”
“That would be a wise bet, Edgar,” Quincy laughed as his mind drifted to their plan of attack. Therefore, Quincy pressed his partner about the subject. “Edgar, we need to take our minds off the sword for a moment and concentrate on a solid plan of action regarding our combat against the alpha. How will we deal with that awful shrilling noise that knocked out our hearing?”
“That is a good question, Quincy. The obvious answer is that we need to cover our ears with a fabric or something soft, and the material needs to be held securely in place. Otherwise, our eardrums will be damaged once again.”
Quincy reflected on his partner’s words and thought about something soft that could be used to cover their ears. A white substance, thick and soft, did indeed come into his mind. He thought it would do the job of protecting their ears from the deafening noise of the sceidra.
“Cotton!”
“What?” Poe asked.
“That is what we will use, Edgar! Cotton! For our ears!”
Poe thought about his partner’s idea, then exclaimed, “Yes, of course! You are a genius, Quincy! Excellent thinking! Now, all we need to do is determine how to hold the cotton in place.”
“How about glue, or pitch?” Quincy suggested.
Poe erupted with laughter. “Are you mad? We cannot use these substances. They will cause damage to our ears! No, Quincy, we must think of something safer to use.”
The hunters deliberated about different types of sticky substances. On occasion, they would blurt out a better alternative for glue, such as beeswax, rubber, and paste, but each of these suggestions were dismissed by the hunters as hazardous and too risky. After much calculation and reflection, the hunters came up with an idea at the same time that they both thought would be much better and safer than all the other things they considered.
“Molasses!” Both men shouted at the same time.
“Yes, Quincy! That is what we will use for our ears! And after we are done with our mission, we can wash the molasses away from our ears with water. It will work out just fine!”
“We have done it, Edgar! We have used our brains together to rapidly conjure a most excellent result!”
“But there is one thing we need to consider. Shall we bring a crossbow, a golden blade, or a gun loaded with golden bullets?” Poe wondered aloud.
“That is not a wise idea, Edgar. Gold only affected the offspring of the alpha and, therefore, will not be effective against the alpha.”
“I know that, but what if we used the gold as a distraction against the alpha?”
Quincy pondered Poe’s idea and, while he thought it would be risky, he deemed it necessary to try every method to take down and kill the alpha. Quincy accepted Poe’s idea and agreed with him. “I will get my gun and load it with golden bullets. A golden blade will be ineffective in this fight, but a long-range weapon such as a gun should work well toward helping us reach our goal.”
The hunter retreated to his room and began preparing his gun by loading it with the bullets. Meanwhile, Poe was left alone with the sword and decided to practice carrying it by its hilt with one hand. Although it was heavy, he managed to carry it with his right comfortably. The hunter then gripped the blade with his hand and felt like a fabled warrior preparing for the ultimate battle of strength and endurance. Poe imagined himself as the legendary King Arthur with Excalibur, ready to confront a menace threatening his kingdom.
“Tomorrow will be a memorable night in my life and Quincy’s,” Poe whispered. “I will do whatever it takes to defeat the alpha and save the citizens of Baltimore from its reign of horror,” Poe promised himself as his voice got louder. “My partner will do his part to divert and confuse the monster into a weakened state, but it will be I who kills the beast by plunging the sword deep into its heart.”
Chapter 18
It was evening in Baltimore and the hunters were busy with the final preparations for their battle. The day’s hours had flown by as Poe spent most of the them polishing the sword and making sure even the slightest smudge was cleaned from the steel, while Quincy had the responsibility of making sure the golden blades and the
revolver loaded with golden bullets were packed up and ready to go.
Poe and Quincy had just returned from a general store with the molasses and cotton they needed to protect their ears from the alpha’s dangerous screeching. Poe placed the molasses jar and the pouch of cotton on a table in the parlor. Each took a turn dipping a piece of cotton in the molasses, then smooshing it inside their ears. Small amounts of white fluff stuck to the inside of the jar containing the molasses. Quincy laughed at the sight and said, “I guess we won’t be able to enjoy the remainder of the molasses now that it is contaminated with cotton.” Poe chuckled in agreement.
With the cotton set securely in their ear canals, the men were happy with the results as they were able to hear their surroundings, but every sound they heard was muffled. Quincy snapped his fingers and both men heard it even though it was very soft and faint. In another test, Poe opened the front door and peaked outside listening for the sounds of the city. He was able to hear the stomping of horses’ hooves and the wheels of carriages, which did cause him some worry because the piercing shrieks of the alpha might still be able to enter their ears and cause some damage.
In a decision that required no deliberation, the hunters began adding more cotton to their ears and repeated the process of sinking the cotton into the molasses and pressing it into their ears against the cotton balls that were already there. Satisfied with their efforts to protect their hearing, they picked up their weapons. Poe gently held the sword by its hilt and raised it up with his right hand. He nodded to Quincy as a signal that he was ready to go. Quincy nodded his head, too, and both the hunters exited their house.
• • •
In the forest, the hunters remained vigilant for any signs of the alpha’s presence. They searched throughout the woods trying to spot any clues of the alpha’s whereabouts, but Poe and Quincy saw nothing. The only thing visible to them was the foliage of the forest and the dirt on the ground that was collecting on the soles of their boots. Fireflies hovered over their heads and as the salty smell of the Patapsco River filled their nostrils. Even with the cotton stuffed into their ears, they could still hear the river flowing as it rushed through the landscape.
Poe the Hunter- Bedlam in Baltimore Page 12
