Wolf of the Tesseract

by Christopher D Schmitz

  Rob suddenly slunk up against the wall of the alley and crouched against the dumpster. He pointed to a black van that pulled into a parking space beside Claire’s apartment. “I know that one, too,” he said. “And she knows me.”

  Claire turned and spotted Vivian in the passenger seat. The driver was watching Claire. “Yeah. I know her too.”

  “She’s not who you think. She is allied with him: one of his lieutenants.”

  “She works for this evil Nitthogr?”

  “Yes, but worse in some ways. She only serves him because of her blind devotion to Sh’logath.”

  “Oh, now there’s a Sh’logath too?”

  “I know I sound very confusing. Please, it’s all too much to take in over just a few minutes. We need to get away from here. Let us leave, go somewhere far away where I can properly explain it all to you. You can’t go back to him.”

  “Um, yeah. That’s not going to happen.” Claire turned and began to return under the watchful eye of the van driver.

  “Don’t tell your fiancé or that woman what I’ve told you!” he called after her. “Don’t trust either of them; they’re not who you think they are. Say nothing!”

  “Yeah,” she hollered over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. That ain’t gonna happen. They already think I’m losing my marbles. I’m not going to start talking Sh’logaths and Nitthogrs on them!”

  She waved Jackie’s cell in the air. “And stop stealing my friend’s stuff!” Claire turned to warn him as she spoke, “I seriously don’t want to see you here anymore.”

  As she looked back at the alley; Rob was already gone, like he’d vanished into thin air.

  Claire turned back as Vivian slammed the van door shut. Vivian looked surprised to see her out and about. Claire suspected it might have been an act; the driver couldn’t seem to hide his intentions.

  “Are you staking me out or something?”

  Vivian shook her head and pointed to the corner of the block. “Best coffee in town and they serve early risers. What’s got you up?”

  She held up Jackie’s phone, though convinced that Vivian was lying. “Just retrieving Jackie’s phone from an old friend. I’m on my way back now.”

  Vivian nodded and watched as Claire crossed the road back to her home.

  I don’t know what’s really going on, she thought, but it can’t be half as crazy as the story Rob fed me! She glanced back to the empty alleyway. Don’t go back to him! His words still rang between her ears.

  Claire briefly weighed the options and considered going to Jackie’s instead. She could always stay with her friend and her family. She shook her head and ducked inside her apartment. This was home. She’d made her choice, and James was a part of that. No number of crazy ghosts from her past could change that.

  James slipped back inside Claire’s apartment bearing his gift. It was late in the morning, but he knew how his fiancé liked to sleep late whenever possible. Besides, she had gotten up early yesterday and then stayed up all day pretending she wouldn’t be tired. She’d spent most of the day making wedding plans with Vivian; they planned to scout some wedding reception locations today. The event needed an area big enough to accommodate the crowd a celebrity would inevitably draw.

  Checking the clock, he snipped the ends of the flowers he’d stepped out to purchase so they’d stay fresh longer. He knew he could still arrive in time for his meeting, but it wasn’t likely that he’d see Claire before he had to leave. Vivian was quite capable of keeping close tabs on her, however.

  He arranged an empty breakfast plate on the table he’d adorned with the flowers and affixed a Post-It note to it. “Frozen Waffles in the freezer. You are my everything!” James smirked; he put serious effort into being charming for his betrothed.

  James took his car keys and a door key from the table near the entry and closed it gently behind him. He had a group that he needed to meet with, and he didn’t expect it to go very well.

  Even though he wore a warm, Hollywood smile on his face as he walked through the apartment complex’s hall, his mood turned considerably darker. James knew that he had some minor hiccups to iron out with his comrades, and he anticipated smoothing out at least one wrinkle this very morning. What vexed him most was another situation that had crept up. James was pretty sure Claire had been seeing another guy, someone she knew from several years ago.

  James didn’t feel insecure. Vivian had informed on him; there was no real threat, and he knew exactly who this person was, even more so than Claire did. What troubled him was that Claire hadn’t said anything to him about it. That seemed so unlike her; perhaps the nature of their relationship was not exactly as deep and secure as he thought. James would have liked nothing better than to resolve that issue this morning too… but not with Claire. He hoped to have that encounter as soon as he was able— if he could ever locate the other guy.

  Still fuming, James crossed the street and peeked in the alleyway. There was no sign of the interloper. James hadn’t foreseen him as capable of showing up here, of all places. He grimaced and returned to his car in the underground parking ramp.

  He didn’t expect he’d find that meddler today, anyhow. It would sort itself out. He had a team of experts put on the matter.

  Pulling a sleek cell phone from his pocket, he thumbed in his sister’s contact. He typed a quick message, “Meeting with them soon. Keep Claire safe.”

  He clicked the fob to unlock his Lexus, then got in and sped away. Today would be his. He was James Shianan. He was Hollywood’s darling. And he knew that he was so much more than just that. Soon, the whole world would know who James Shianan truly was.

  . . .

  Claire strolled through the verdant, manicured park flanked by her two bridesmaids. With her face beaming, she spun slow circles as she took in the scenery, imagining the setup she had planned for the wedding reception and how it would look on these park grounds.

  Vivian took fastidious notes and drew a diagram on her clipboard. Jackie kept close, providing emotional support and positive feedback. She’d grown quite worried for her friend since the fire and the subsequent, but temporary communications blackout.

  Walking near a pond fed by a babbling brook, Vivian took a call on her cell and meandered just out of earshot. Jackie, bubbly as ever crept close to her friend while Claire threw a few bread scraps to the geese that paddled nearby. They honked and demanded the scraps whenever she held a piece for too long.

  Jackie asked, “So, have you seen Rob these last few days?”

  Claire didn’t seem to have much of an opinion on the matter, judging by her blank expression. “I haven’t seen him since I got your phone back from him.” She paused long.

  “That’s too bad. He seemed like he was looking out for you—er. You know, as much as a stalker can. Maybe he moved on?”

  “Maybe,” Claire mused. “Or else, something happened to him.”

  The statement hung in the air like a lead balloon.

  Jackie caught the look on Claire’s face. “Something’s on your mind, Clairebear. What’s bothering you?”

  Claire looked over her shoulder at Vivian.

  “Is it a cold feet thing? Spill it. I’ll help you talk it through.” She did a goofy move with her hips, “We can even dance it out if you need to.”

  “It’s just… I’ve been very tense since the incident. I’m still trying to work it all out in my head. Doctor Smith told me that my mind was confused, but what I experienced was so vivid.” Another tense pause. “Do you think James would ever lie to me?”

  “Of course,” Jackie spat out immediately. “To protect you, though,” she followed. “He’s in Hollywood. I’m sure certain things get said to keep you from worrying, like when your Dad tells you everything is safe in the areas near his expeditions. He’s a man—we want our men to tell us certain lies. Like, if I ask a man if my favorite Ramones T-shirt makes me look fat, there’s only one right answer.”

  “Not that kind of lie,” Claire said. “Do you re
member the layout of the room where the fire started?”

  Jackie shook her head. “No. I still barely remember anything. I hit my head pretty hard during the explosion.”

  “I asked James and Vivian again yesterday, but not overtly or they’d think I was losing it again. They insist that there was another door leading out the back of the room that I used to escape.”

  Jackie nodded. She’d heard the talking points.

  “See, the more I think about it, the more I can see the room in my mind—I relive every detail, right down to the smells and the screams. And I’m telling you that there was only the one door. That’s the kind of lie I’m wondering about.”

  “Do you have any way to check? I mean, the house was destroyed in the fire, but maybe the previous homeowners had some photos or something you can check.”

  “There’s no way to contact them. But there is this.” She motioned her friend to take her cell phone. Claire clicked on a bookmarked link on the mobile browser.

  A blank page came up. One line summed up the situation. “Content unavailable; property of the Heptobscurantum Group. All rights reserved.” Moments later the page redirected to a larger real estate directory.

  “What am I looking at,” Jackie asked.

  Claire took her phone back. “It was the original listing for the property, complete with blueprints, floor plans, photos, you name it. Whoever this Heptobscurantum Group is, they bought the agency, the content, everything, and shut it all down. The records are even unavailable through other channels like public works.” She tapped through a few screens on her device and turned it back to Jackie. “But not before I got this screenshot.”

  Jackie cradled the LCD screen and stared at the picture. Clearly, the room had only one door. She handed the phone back. “What does this mean?”

  Vivian started walking back. With her almost in range, Claire muttered under her breath, “It means someone is lying to me, and I don’t know who else I can trust anymore.”

  Instantly changing her demeanor like a chameleon, Vivian switched from a dour expression to her happy sister-in-law face she’d been wearing since the fiery incident. “I like this spot for the reception,” she gushed. “Lots of natural light and plenty of space for guests. Plus there’s a nearby pavilion for the band to set up in.”

  The three ladies simultaneously turned to look at the covered pavilion. A skinny man wearing a hood pulled low over his face sat at one of its shaded picnic tables. Something about him unnerved all three of them.

  “He looks more like a washed-up hip hop artist than a band member,” Jackie tried to defuse her nerves with humor.

  “Yeah,” said Vivian. “Let’s go check out the other side of the park. Maybe see how far we are from the guests’ parking.”

  They moved as a small unit. Claire looked back to the pavilion and spotted the mysterious man. He followed them from a distance, walking intentionally, urgently, as he pursued. All three picked up the pace, speeding to a brisk walk.

  Continuing to shoot furtive glances backwards, they barely noticed the other man in the ratty, thrift store poncho. He leaned suspiciously against the concrete block restroom building along the walking path. They rushed past him, almost jogging now, while he ducked around the corner, keeping hidden from the trail.

  The skinny hood broke out into a sprint. Jackie squealed and the girls tried to accelerate.

  From around the corner of the utility building the second man launched out and tackled the skinny one, dropping him with a shoulder spear. The cowl of his poncho flung back to reveal Rob’s face.

  “Run, Claire!” He urged her forward while the lithe stalker grappled him.

  None of the girls moved. They stood riveted by the brawl.

  The skinny one kicked free from Rob. He pulled his arms back and stiffened, contorted them before clapping his hands together. Flames sprang to life between his palms and he shot a column of fire at the girls’ protector, blasting Rob across the lawn and knocking him over a grassy berm.

  Turning back to the girls, the fire in his eyes burned as intensely as the flames flickering between his tightly balled fists. For a moment, his eyes shimmered animalisticaly, like a reptilian blink.

  A roar snarled from the other side of the lush knoll where Rob had been thrown. The air seemed to crackle, like the oxygen vibrated at a molecular level under the stress of so much supernatural power colliding in such close proximity.

  Streaking across the green like an arrow, the massive lupine charged the slender man who had fixed his evil gaze upon the girls. Seizing him by the torso, he suplexed the fire wielder caught in his massive paw, smashing him into the concrete of the walking path, shattering the cement tiles below. The beast stuck his snout down into his prey’s face and bellowed a warning. His hot breath blew his victim’s hair backwards, flecking him with spittle.

  Claire could barely see the skinny one’s face, but she could swear that the cheek where he’d been hit was covered with scales; his pale, pasty makeup had been scraped away by the werewolf’s fist. She cringed as the thin man screamed back at the werewolf’s face, spewing a wave of caustic heat.

  The wolf snarled, his face singed, and he flung the man the entire distance back to the pavilion. Skinny heat-miser crashed into the wooden structure and it collapsed upon him while the beast turned his face to the girls. He bellowed again and launched into a sprint towards their position.

  Vivian drew a semi-automatic handgun and began firing rounds into the lycanthrope. Claire watched in horror as the beast closed the gap; Vivian practiced her marksmanship with cold, hard precision. Claire spotted something in the monster’s eyes and she instantly knew that he was Rob—not a doubt remained in her—but his eyes contracted with terror, and not from the hollow point rounds which barely seemed to phase the beast. A split second later, Claire was yanked off her feet from behind!

  Claire could barely hear her own screams over the ringing gunshots and the sounds of the other fleeing park-goers. Tipped sideways, before she could spot her attackers, she saw the rubble of the pavilion explode in flames and the skinny man walking from the pyre.

  Rob, the wolf, peeled off in another direction, crashing through the brush nearby. Vivian leaned into a shooters stance and squinted down her sights, firing hot lead at the fleeing lycan.

  Jackie shrieked, pointing to the approaching pyromancer.

  Vivian paid him no mind, but pushed Jackie back. “We’ve got to go!”

  “But where’s Claire?” She turned and spotted two burly, well dressed men in the distance. One had Claire under an arm, barely containing her as she fought and writhed to escape. The other held a pump action shotgun in his grasp. He looked ready for anything; walking backwards, he provided cover for his occupied partner.

  “They’ve got her!” Jackie insisted.

  “Yeah. I see them.” She paid them little attention, instead focused on retreating to the car. In a rare display of bravery, Jackie broke with Vivian and rushed towards her friend.

  Rob burst out of the underbrush nearby. He leapt over the first blast of shotgun fire and pounced towards the backpedaling mercenary. He ducked under a second blast that tore through the space above his head. The acrid, sulfuric smell of gunfire hung in the air; Rob leapt past his enemy, dragging his razor-sharp claws across the man’s midsection as he pursued Claire’s handler. They’d almost made it to the white cargo van that waited for them in the parking lot with doors open.

  Claire screamed for help just as Rob caught her kidnapper and dashed him to the ground with a sickening thud. He gingerly lifted Claire to her feet, even as he shielded her from the small arms fire: Vivian continued to approach with extreme prejudice.

  Jackie shrieked as she almost reached her friend, but both were thrust to the ground under the shockwave from a nearby explosion. The white van detonated with a colossal fireball, throwing flame and broken glass everywhere.

  Rob turned and growled. Vivian stood only fifty yards in the distance, another fifty beyo
nd was the skinny pyro fiend. He dashed forward as Jackie helped her friend to her feet. They fled to the parking lot, watching over their shoulders.

  The werewolf slugged Vivian as he sped by. The force of the blow tossed her twenty feet away where she crumpled like a ragdoll. Jackie was in shock and barely managed to find her car keys while tracking the battle just beyond the lot.

  As she watched their lupine savior fall upon the fire wielding maniac she tore out of the parking lot, spraying gravel behind her as she turned the corner faster than common sense dictated. Both girls hyperventilated uncontrollably; tears streamed down their faces as they hit the freeway. Neither had any plan beyond simply drawing their next breath.

  . . .

  James smashed his fist down upon the ornate, wooden table at the room’s center. It hit with unearthly strength, nearly shattering the finely crafted, heavy surface. The decoratively engraved seven-pointed star suddenly looked less resolute beneath his raw rage.

  “What do you mean, you lost her?” James hissed ominously. He paced the room, cradling his beloved, mystic book.

  None of the stalwart seven men seated at the table flinched. They each stared at him as if ice water ran through their veins.

  Peter Greyson spoke up. “We had assurances that the men we sent were more than capable and they had done numerous jobs for the Heptobscurantum in the past. They are agents of The Seven.”

  “This is the best you have available?” James hissed.

  “We deemed them,” Greyson said calmly, “adequate.”

  “Adequate?” James calmed himself. “Did I not stress the high importance and sensitivity of this mission?”

  “Quite. And besides, these were soldiers that your contact introduced us to. Also, you gave us very little notice in order to make proper arrangements. These agents were ready and on hand. And while you expressed the dangers of the mission, you failed to inform us of the exact nature of the mission. Had we known of the supernatural components, we might have been better prepared—”