by M Ennenbach
“Do you believe him? About the monsters and such?” He took a bite of the bread and chewed patiently.
“I believe you,” Tracey said softly. “I’ve seen them. I know they are real.”
“None of us doubt you. Not exactly. But the monsters, they’re just people. Right? I’ve seen them myself. Men with something missing inside. Just born evil. Broken.” Mikhail finished his glass and refilled it. He pushed the bottle to Karl, a haunted look in his eyes.
“I think not, my love. A bad man is still just a man. I believe Karl has seen real monsters. The kind that most only see in dream.”
Mikhail made a face but didn’t argue.
The table grew silent as Karl filled his glass. “You’re both right. Some monsters are just men. And, no offense, ladies as well. Some of the greatest atrocities I have witnessed were committed by people. It has been my displeasure to deal with them.” He took a drink and let the whiskey burn away the sour taste of bad memories. “But there are things out there that defy common sense. Not all evil, mind you. In my time, though, I fear the majority of them to be. If not exactly evil, then driven by hungers and desires we see as so.”
Mikhail laughed for a second, then realized he was alone. “Is this a campfire story, one you tell to scare your friends?”
Karl chuckled. “If only that were the truth.”
“So your tall tale about Luck being a treasure needed to save the world?”
“An unfortunate reality. One of many.”
Jia-Li held up a hand. “Luck?”
“There are stories, whispers really, that somewhere in the New World there is a treasure hidden. One the Natives helped to keep from the eyes of the conquering Europeans. In the tales I’ve been told, it is the mastery of Luck itself. One day the Chosen One, or Fool depending on translation, will find it. This will be the only thing that stands against the end of everything.”
No one spoke at all. The only sound was them drinking and the wind blowing outside. Karl looked at the plate of food in front of him and longed to dive back in but there was a tension in the room now that stopped him. He supposed it had been too much to think they would talk of normal things. This was his curse. He didn’t know normal, couldn’t comprehend it.
“I saw a monster. Back in England. I don’t know what it was, not really.” Tracey looked as shocked as everyone else when she broke the silence.
“Go on, please,” Jia-Li beckoned.
She looked at everyone. They all nodded to her. Mikhail refilled her wine and quickly went to fetch a fresh bottle. She sipped it nervously and then visibly steeled herself.
“In Southend-On-Sea, the town I grew up in, I saw it. Many times, though at first I had no idea that it was a monster straight out of a Penny Dreadful.” She saw questioning looks at that. “Penny Dreadfuls were these scary stories. All sorts of terrible things. My mum would read them to me sometimes if I promised her I wouldn’t have nightmares. I always promised, even though nine out of ten times I would in fact have nightmares and end up in bed with her. I think she liked it when I crawled into bed with her to be honest. My father was a fisherman and would be gone for days at a time, you see. And she only ever read them to me when he was gone.
“Anyway. Some nights I would stare out the window of my bedroom and watch the moon on the water. It was calming to me. It made me happy to see it dance along so free. Until one evening when I was seven.
“I was watching the waves and felt myself growing sleepy. It was autumn and the air outside was cool and crisp. As I stared out the window my breath fogged up the glass. As I watched the waves through the foggy pane, I saw someone crawl from the water onto the shore. I wiped the glass thinking it was a mistake. No, there was what looked like a man standing on the wet sand. In my young brain, I guessed it was someone out for a moonlit swim regardless of the brisk weather. Then the man, or what I thought was a man turned and looked right into my window. At me. And I felt my bladder release as I saw two eyes of fire lock onto mine. I screamed and ran into my mum’s room.
“She didn’t believe me. Thought it was another flight of fancy from her little Magpie. But I insisted he was there. She finally gave in and put on her long robe and walked to the beach where I had seen him. I stood by my now open window and yelled directions to her. When she got to where the thing had been, she found no sign. Of course, the waves had swept the footprints away.”
“You were tired, clearly your mind played tricks on you. Perhaps the candlelight in your room reflected just right to appear to be eyes,” Mikhail said as she took a long drink of wine.
Tracey nodded. “I would have to agree with you. In fact, I did for years. It took me quite a while to look back out the window. Eventually, my love affair with the moon returned. I had explained away the vision as one of a foolish child.
Until a few years later when I saw him again. Now I was ten and less likely prone to hysterics. It was the same as before. A man walked from the water onto the beach and stood staring at the moon. I crouched lower and tried to memorize every detail. This time the moon was full and cast silver light onto the sand. He was tall, far taller than any man I had seen before. With, I don’t know how to explain it, growths like scales or plates across his naked form. I crept to the candle and blew it out then went back to the window but he was gone. I didn’t bother my mother this time. I ran out of the house and snuck down to the water edge. This time I was in time to see its footprints in the sand. Then I had no real reference, but my time in the New World has broadened my knowledge. The closest thing I have seen to those footprints was the claws of an alligator like in the swamps.”
“Did you ever see him again?” Jia-Li asked in a whisper.
Tracey didn’t answer for a long time, lost in the memory. Her hand on the stem of the wine glass whitened as she clenched it tightly. Karl reached carefully over and rested his hand on her wrist and she snapped back to the present. Her hand relaxed and she gave him a small smile. “Yes. A few times over the years. I tried to casually ask others if they had ever seen anything strange come out of the waves. No one ever saw the thing with claws and fire red eyes. Or none that would admit it. Nearly every time I saw it was the same. Just for a moment. I would hide when it turned toward my window. I later heard that on the same occasions I saw the monster, sheep would wind up missing from random farms. A mystery none ever managed to solve. Except for me. I knew the truth.”
“Now Tracey, you know I have nothing but the utmost respect for you. But that is the biggest cockamamie tale I ever did hear.” Mikhail shook his head and smiled. “Ain’t there supposed to be leprechauns and such over there with pots of gold?”
Karl cleared his throat and Mikhail gave him a funny look. “First, leprechauns are everywhere. The lands of Faery open to all places. And they have great hoards of gold and gems. Conniving little bastards they are. I met one in New York City ten or fifteen years ago. Scramulous O’Shea was his name. A right little horse’s ass.
“Second, what Tracey saw is rather uncommon. They are known as Sahuagan. They usually lurk in the deep waters. Your former home must butt up against traditional hunting grounds of theirs. You’re fortunate all it took was sheep. They are rather, umm, indiscriminate eaters.”
Mikhail opened and closed his mouth three or four times and then decided it was best to just take a long drink of his whiskey. It didn’t escape anyone at the table’s notice when Tracey reached and grabbed Karl’s hand. He stiffened for a second and then blushed slightly. Jia-Li and Mikhail smiled faintly but pretended not to see.
“My father, my baba as I call him, told many stories from China. Have you ever read Journey to the West?”
Karl shook his head. “Heard some of the tales. Sun Wukong and the Celestial Peaches stuck out to me. Your family’s neck of the world is not one I’ve ever had the fortune of making it to in all my travels. The things I’ve heard took hold of my imagination, though.”
Jia-Li beamed at hearing this. “There is a common misconception about C
hina. That the people are all poor farmers. Superstitious and fearful. While it is true for a lot of Chinese, there is rich history as well. And many amazing stories. My grandfather told stories of large hairy man-apes that lived on the snowy peaks. They were shy creatures that hid in the snow and ice to avoid people. He would tell us that one day when he was a child, there was an avalanche that swept down the mountain. Many people were killed and injured. He escaped unharmed, thank God. But as he was searching for other survivors, he said he found one of the man-apes pinned beneath a tree. He was very frightened of it but could not bear to see it suffer. So he used a long thick branch to lift the tree. The creature stared at him for a long moment. He swears it smiled at him before rushing off into the woods as other people approached. No one believed him in the village. But I always did. Man cannot hope to know everything in this great big world. Only God knows.”
Karl nodded. “I believe they are called Yeti. In the Everglade swamps in Florida there are a tribe of cousins to the Yeti known as Sasquatch. I’ve heard rumor of another tribe in Oregon and Northern California as well, but have not seen them myself.”
Mikhail muttered under his breath in disbelief. Jia-Li patted his hand gently. “Now, my pup, there surely cannot live so much doubt in you. How many tales must you hear, yet still deny? You close your mind to possibilities because they do not fit into your narrow view. Look how different you and I are, yet we fit together perfectly. Like a key into a lock. Let me try and unlock your brain as well as your heart, my love.”
“It just isn’t right according to the church and bible. Monsters on mountains, under the sea, and leprechauns! If they existed, why doesn’t the good book mention them?”
Karl sipped his whiskey. “You may find yourself surprised at what the church does and does not know. They have done their best to keep things from the public eye. Some for their own good, some for yours and some for the creatures as well. There is a delicate balance between our nature and the nature of other realms. Hell, I don’t expect you to just take my word for it. I know I sure as shit didn’t when it was first explained to me. I just hope you never find yourself in a predicament where your inability to believe hampers common sense. Some creatures are friendly, but foreign. Sone are similar to us, yet alien in thought. The world is a scary and beautiful place. As long as you’re careful. And lucky.”
“I like campfire tales as much as the next man. But until I have proof, that is all they are. I’m sorry. I’m not calling you liars. You believe what you believe. But I need to be shown to believe.” Mikhail looked unapologetic as he sat there.
Karl stood up and slowly removed his jacket and placed it over the chair. Then he unbuttoned his shirt. He managed to look embarrassed as his middle age showed to be catching up to him. The thick thatch of chest hair had gone more silver and the once solid stomach had drifted slightly over his belt. Tracey looked at him with a fire in her eyes, clearly enjoying the show. His torso was lined with pale marks. Knives, bullets, and what looked like acid splashings mottled his skin.
“Now wait just a second, Karl. You’re bordering on the disrespectful here.”
Jia-Li grabbed his forearm and he stopped talking as Karl turned around and let them look at his back. It was crossed with deep scarring, thick puckered lines and sunken, missing chunks. Mikhail let out a low whistle. But what stood out was claw marks, deep rents in the flesh that could have been easily mistaken for a bear attack. If a bear had eight distinct claws that resembled misshapen human hands. The sixteen lines, two sets, ran down from his shoulders to right above his belt and ended in distinct palm marks. There could be no doubt that they were made by hands, but none a human had ever been born with.
“What in God’s name did that?” Tracey whispered, breaking the now heavy silence.
“His name was Astaroth. A demon prince I had the misfortune of pissing off. This was his way of saying hello when I got too close to him and interrupted his fun.” Karl put his shirt back on. “He had been summoned by a group of cultists in the far North of Minnesota. They called themselves the Disciples of Doomtree. Seven of them in total, or there were, now only three remain. The leader, Lasselbeak, a mad genius had brought then together to take over the world. It was my displeasure to have been in the area when they summoned Astaroth.
“They had no idea the powers they were messing with. I had no idea what I stumbled into. It was a bad scene all the way around. Two of the dumb bastards were consumed immediately. Three more driven insane as he whispered into their minds. I put them down like rabid dogs. But not before they slaughtered an entire town. I was stabbed by the only lady in the group. She’d taken to calling herself Dessa and I fell for her ruse of being an innocent. Astaroth followed my blood into the woods. I was delirious with pain. He seared my wound closed, this one.” He pointed to a nasty scar in his right side.
“I tried to crawl away when he gave me those lovely reminders down my back.”
“How did you defeat him?” Tracey asked in hushed tones.
Karl laughed mirthlessly. “An angel owed me a favor. Luckily, one of the higher ups. I had to use the boon he granted me for a little job I had done for the Vatican. A one-time deal.”
He finished dressing and sat back down at the table. His plate of food had gone cold and was suddenly not nearly as inviting as it had been a short time ago. Jia-Li poured more whiskey into his glass and left the bottle next to it. He greedily drained the glass and poured another. No one spoke as he sat adjusting his tie. He looked across the table and Mikhail nodded at him.
“I feel a bit like an ass now. My apologies, sir.”
Karl smiled at him. “Like I said, there is more out there than we can imagine. And not all of it friendly.” He drained his glass again and laughed. “I fear I have ruined the evening with my little show. My apologies to the lovely hostess.”
Jia-Li smiled at him with teary eyes. “On the contrary, Mr. Beck. You have given me the greatest gift possible. You have proven my faith to be true. In a world of great evil, you have just told me that angels exist. I am filled to the brim with happiness.” The tears fell freely down her beautiful face and she seemed to almost glow with joy.
They sat silently and drank for a spell. But, eventually, the conversation resumed on lighter topics. Long into the night they sat talking and laughing. Four new friends sharing with one another. Outside, an owl sat on the roof of the covered porch of the small house. The laughter inside not deterring it from its vigilant watch of the ground beneath. By the time the humans inside had decided it was time to head to their respective beds, it had given up and took flight on soft wings.
10
Somewhere along the Chisholm Trail
The sun was relentless today. All signs of storm two days ago were gone except for scorch marks on the soil. They appeared like etchings from an angry vengeful God. The occasional lost steer or two meandered from tufts of prairie grass. There was no shelter but to hunch among the prickly grass that whipped like razor blades whenever the hot wind gusted. Lizards and snakes patrolled in the welcome heat in search of sustenance from a land they were bred to live in.
One man staggered along the cracked earth, barely upright. He had not stopped moving for a day and a half now. Fear was his biggest motivation against blistered feet rubbed raw in his boots. His thighs chafed from sweating in thick denim. He lost his hat when the winds picked up overnight. Now he had no protection from sun’s rays that felt as if they would cook him as he wandered.
“Dear Jesus, please lead your sheep to sanctuary. Dear Mother Mary, keep that beast from my trail.” He repeated the litany to himself, his throat dry and voice cracking.
He needed a drink. Needed food. He hadn’t even stopped to relieve himself. He could not close his eyes without seeing that thing launch from the back of the wagon. But Chris was a survivor. A believer. A fighter with a family back in Texas. He could make it to Duncan. He just needed to keep moving.
“God will sustain me. God will protect. I fear no
evil for he shelters me in His light. I just need a drink. One drink. Then I can make it.”
When night fell, he found he had been running in roughly the right direction. He set his sights on the Big Dipper, found the North Star, and kept moving. As dawn broke to his right, he knew he had not lost his way. Not badly, at least. In the initial panic, he may have gone far to the west or so he guessed. But there wasn’t much down the Trail. Duncan was about it and if he stumbled too far past, he would just have to correct his course. But he couldn’t think like that. Couldn’t afford to. He kept his head up. He had tied his bandana around his forehead. It was something his Pa had taught him. Let it soak up his sweat and cool him down. He laughed bitterly and hoarsely.
“Into your hands, I commend my spirit.” The tinge of desperation and insanity in his own voice scared him.
A rabbit leapt from one of the thickets of grass and he felt his heart race in terror. He chuckled to himself and raised a hand to block the sun. In the distance was a cairn of some sort in roughly the direction he stumbled. The adrenaline gave him a burst and his steps evened. He looked up into the azure sky. A lone speck circled high above him. He knew what it was, and he felt another fit of laughter threaten to bubble out. He had seen the devil and there would not be enough of him left for the buzzard above if it caught him.
“Not today, you ugly bastard.”
The thicket to his left shook and he watched warily for a moment. Another rabbit, or maybe the same one hopped out and stared at him. He couldn’t tell one from another, but he took it as a sign and smiled. It looked at him and bounded off across the hot ground. He watched it skitter across the ground toward another patch of the hardy tall grass. It let out a squeal of horror and he looked up, expecting to see a hawk dive down. He frowned as the only thing he saw was the same buzzard. Then a gray skinned arm snapped out, lightning fast, and grabbed the rabbit and pulled it into the grass. He heard snapping and tearing as he stood still, unable to move.
