Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary

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Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: The Varcolac's Diary Page 8

by D. C. McGannon


  Charlie started chuckling, too. Lisa raised an eyebrow at her brother, who merely smiled back with a knowing look. This, of course, came as little surprise to them.

  When Darcy laughed, it was only out of sheer terror. She was not afraid of Nash, but of the voice deep down that said:

  See? I told you so.

  Lisa let them laugh out the nervous stress. A man on a bicycle passed by, looking at the scene in obvious confusion. Nash pointed at the man, and they laughed harder. Finally, when the delirium began to subside, she raised her hand to speak.

  “I think we know,” she said. “We know what that was.”

  Nash sobered up and listened in earnest, wiping his eyes with a thumb. Darcy sat down on the curb, staring at the ground like it would fall from under her.

  “The book about Hunter’s Key,” the Vadiknov sister continued. “It talked about the beginnings of Hunter’s Grove. Haven’t you ever wondered how this town started out? How it got its name?”

  They all stared at her dumbly.

  “It was named for the people who built Hunter’s Key, and the town after that. They believed there was a very large doorway into another world, somewhere on Hunter’s Point. They were monster hunters, trying to keep monsters out of our world. And those people were said to have certain‌…‌abilities. Gifts. But they were all unique.”

  Liev took over for his sister. “We have a gift,” he said seriously. “We can’t get a handle on it, but we discovered it when we were trying to catch that domovoi yesterday. We caught it with some sort of…laser beam.” He grinned at the memory of it.

  Lisa glared at her brother. “It’s not a laser beam. It was more like a sheet of pliable energy. But we don’t know how to control it, and the monster got away.”

  “So my gift is shooting lightning bolts?” asked Nash.

  “It would seem,” Liev said.

  Nash stood up urgently and walked over to the alley that was a few feet away. They all followed.

  “Do I have some power?” Charlie asked.

  “Do I?” echoed Darcy.

  “We‌…‌don’t know,” Lisa said. “The book didn’t say.”

  “Well,” said Darcy. “Guess you can’t learn everything from books after all.”

  She and Lisa had a glowering contest.

  Not listening, Nash flung his arms out at the brick wall at the end of the alley like some wigged-out rockstar. He pointed and punched the air, trying to shoot out another lightning bolt, but to no avail. He began to feel foolish.

  There was no way he had imagined it‌—‌the others had seen it too, after all. Still, perhaps it was simply a freak of nature. Like ball lighting or midsummer snow.

  Darcy saw his shoulders slump. “Stomp,” she said, thinking aloud.

  Nash frowned. He stomped once, and again, feeling like an idiot. He stomped a third time, feeling heat prickle up his neck with embarrassment.

  And that was when another bolt flew out, crashing into the far wall, leaving a black mark standing out against the red brick.

  Nash gave an excited whoop! Charlie and Darcy celebrated with him. The twins, however, were preoccupied with something‌—‌or someone‌—‌else.

  They charged forward suddenly, having heard a small shriek in the alleyway, coming from behind the dumpster. Darcy took a step closer, watching.

  The twins returned a moment later, holding a struggling, grayish-green figure hovering between them in the air.

  “See?” Liev said, grinning from ear to ear. “Laser beams.”

  Lisa corrected him, “They’re not laser beams.”

  A strange light that was somehow black and white at the same time flickered on and off, wrapped like a rope around the Chief of Assistants. It flickered completely out of life at one point, and the twins had to hold with both hands what they called a domovoi‌—‌or what a passing Scot might know as a brownie, what an Englishman would recognize as a fancily dressed house elf.

  They all saw the word smeared across his forehead in red: “VISVS.” But this was hardly strange to them, considering recent events.

  Nash and Charlie saw the Chief of Assistants and naturally stared. Darcy stared, too, but was less gawky about it. She was finally admitting to herself that this was real after all. The voice inside reminded her it was, indeed, real.

  “No, no, no!” the small devil cried. “You will let me go! The master will destroy fledglings! Let go!”

  “Your master?” Charlie said. The group shrunk back into the alley, avoiding what was left of daylight. “Your master’s the varcolac, isn’t he?”

  Nash stepped forward, now taking care not to stomp. “How about you tell us where we can find your master and we’ll play nice?”

  The Chief of Assistants bit his lip, drawing a drop of slimy blackish blood, and shook his head frantically.

  To talk would be to die. He would have bit the black and white ones’ hands, were there not so many of the fledglings. And were it not that the strong, dark one had discovered his gift. His master was right. One of these humans probably had the right blood for the Ritual….

  Stay, he heard his master call. I see through your eyes.

  The Chief of Assistants wilted in defeat. He could not disobey the master’s direct commands.

  The girl’s blood is the blood I need, the Dark Prince continued. Stay and get it for me.

  The little monster trembled, glancing at Darcy. Despite being afraid, the girl stood tall and proud, ready to take charge. And the Chief of Assistants understood. His gaze flickered among the others, before settling on Charlie’s bloodshot eyes.

  In his mind, the Chief of Assistants felt the varcolac take notice of the boy.

  That’s the one. The fledgling with the Sight.

  The Chief of Assistants nodded in awe.

  Meanwhile, Charlie and Nash argued about the ethics of torturing a monster.

  “It’s not right,” said Charlie.

  “Well, neither it nor its master is human. And besides, we need to know how to get into the Key. The creep knows.”

  “But it isn’t right.”

  “I know a way,” said Darcy.

  Everyone turned to stare at her. She held up a rusted key; the old kind, with an elaborate head, a thick body, and stubby teeth at the end.

  “Is that the gate key?” asked Charlie.

  “No, I don’t know where my dad keeps the key to the gate. But this unlocks an old tunnel that leads to the Key. I used to play in it when I was a kid.”

  “I read about that,” Lisa said, nodding as if she had already thought about it. “A tunnel dug by the Monster Hunters, hundreds of years ago.”

  “Where’s the tunnel?” Nash asked Darcy.

  “It’s under Tavern’s Quick-N-Go.” Suddenly, she felt in her element. “Follow me.”

  “Wait,” said Lisa. “If Darcy’s tunnel really leads to the Key, then there can’t be any turning back.”

  Nash nodded. “She’s right.”

  “We’ve all come this far,” said Charlie. “But what comes next‌…‌it’s going to be hard. If anyone wants to go home, now’s the time.”

  A few fidgeted and they all looked at each other, but not one of them moved to leave. Charlie smiled and stuck his hand out, palm down. Nash was the first to step forward, putting his hand on top of Charlie’s. Next were the twins, one white hand and one hand with black fingernails on top, the Chief of Assistants still between them, followed with only a measure of hesitation by Darcy’s.

  The frigid air seemed to give way to a few degrees of warmth; ever so slight, but powerful none the less.

  Hunter’s Grove had its Monster Hunters once more.

  “Hi Tavern!”

  “Hey there, Darcy.” Tavern raised his eyebrows as he saw who Darcy was with, four of the more diverse members of the town middle school. That was different.

  The stronger looking one‌—‌Nash Stormstepper, if Tavern remembered correctly‌—‌was carrying something, a bundle wrapped in his own hoodi
e. It might have been Tavern’s imagination, but the bundle seemed to twitch every now and then.

  “You want me to pull a few tables together for you and your friends?”

  “No. Thanks.” She tried to look in charge, ignoring as best she could the people around the restaurant staring at her. She just had to hope word didn’t get around the town that Darcy Witherington had started hanging out with weirdos. Though she knew it would. It was Hunter’s Grove, after all.

  Nash’s bundle squirmed, and he gave it a tight squeeze. Inside, the Chief of Assistants tried to be still.

  Darcy leaned forward and whispered so no one in the tavern would overhear her. “Actually, we came for a different reason. Do you remember that old brick passage? The one I used to play in when I was a kid?”

  “The one under the storeroom? Sure. Why?”

  “Could we see it?”

  Tavern looked over the group again. Darcy was not the trouble-making type, but then Darcy didn’t usually have friends with her not chewing bubblegum.

  “Darcy, you know your father thinks the tunnel is dangerous….”

  “Please, Tavern? It’s really important,” pouted Darcy.

  “Alright….” Tavern took one last, suspicious look before he lifted the wooden panel of the bar and waved for them to follow. He called to the nearest waitress.

  “Mary, I’m going to run to the back for a sec. Take over for me, will you?”

  Tavern was still a little apprehensive about letting them into the tunnel. After all, Mayor Witherington had forbid his daughter from going into that tunnel two years ago. But the door from which Tavern knew the danger came was locked, and only the mayor had the key. So what could be the harm?

  Some of them, Charlie included, stared as they walked through the kitchen. They had never seen this part of Tavern’s Quick-N-Go before. It was bigger than one would imagine, with the restaurant itself being so small.

  As they reached a large metal door, Tavern produced a heavy key ring and opened it.

  “I’ll leave the door unlocked, then, so you can get out? Just let me know when you’re done with‌…‌whatever you’re doing, so I can lock it back.”

  He pushed the metal door open to reveal a freezing cold room full of the perishable food that Tavern kept for the restaurant side of Tavern’s Quick-N-Go.

  “It’s right over that way,” he told Darcy, pointing past shelves and racks of frozen meat, cheese and diary items, and other foodstuffs. “You remember, don’t you?”

  Darcy nodded and smiled brightly. “Thanks, Tavern!”

  She led the group into the room. They all wrapped themselves tighter in their coats and jackets, until she found the open hole in the store room floor. Tavern had left the hole open. During winter, it produced a frigid draft that kept his perishables cold. This way he could cut down on electricity bills. In the summer, he closed it with a metal trap door.

  Had he known what lay on the other side of the tunnel‌—‌had he really known‌—‌then he might have paid the electricity bill, closed the trap door, and decorated it in layers of crucifixes, salt, iron, garlic, and all other kinds of so-called charms.

  Tavern watched them climb down the ladder one by one until they had all disappeared. Then he closed the door to the storeroom and went back to jovially serving his guests their dinner, ignoring as best he could the worry tugging at his gut.

  The varcolac knew when the group entered the tunnel. The strong boy‌—‌the one with the newly discovered gift‌—‌unraveled his servant and pushed the Lesser creature to walk forward. These fledglings came with the intention to kill him. To pierce his heart and rend his body apart, scattering his ashes over the earth.

  He chuckled.

  The Dark Prince did not fear them. He came from one of the oldest family lines‌—‌a direct, noble descendent of the Ancients themselves. Fear was not an emotion he was acquainted with.

  But he knew these fledglings could pose a threat to his goal. Just like their forefathers had, two centuries before.

  The varcolac was too close to make that mistake again. He could not allow them to come any closer. He reached for his red quill and began to write.

  “Are we there yet?” Liev asked, stepping on a frozen puddle and slipping head first into one of the dank brick walls. He wiped tunnel grime off onto his white jeans with distaste, dirtying them.

  Darcy held a hand up to him. “Shh! I’m trying to remember…”

  With dead ends branching off to the right or left, the tunnel progressed in what was pretty much a straight line. One passage had a door. That passage, if it was the same one Lisa had spoken of, would be the way to Hunter’s Key.

  She stole a glance at Lisa. The twin was reading the varcolac’s diary with her pocket light. Charlie had given Darcy his own light so she could see where she was going.

  Darcy remembered playing down here as a little girl with friends. She had not seen those people in a long time. She had always been the mayor’s daughter, of course. But at some point in her life, she could not remember when exactly, she began to be picky about her friends. Darcy regretted that now.

  I remember playing hide and seek down here. Someone would count, and the rest of us would choose different passages to hide in. Then the seeker would try and guess which passage we chose. I remember hiding one day‌…‌I found a big door… And I remember marking the tunnel. So I could find it again. What did I mark it with?

  It was a key, she remembered. Darcy drew a key on one of the walls, to remind her of a door. A key, for Hunter’s Key. She almost laughed about it now.

  “Look for a key,” she said.

  “You’re joking, right?” asked Nash.

  Darcy ignored him, examining the tunnel walls carefully. It was drawn in yellow crayon. Would the color have faded after all these years?

  Her thoughts were cut short as Lisa gasped beside her. Everyone stopped and looked to see what was wrong. The pages of the diary were blown by an intangible, hellish wind, until the turning stopped dead on one page.

  “What is it?” asked Liev, stepping forward to look at the diary with his sister. The twins stood with their heads craned down like a couple of birds looking at fish in a lake.

  “It’s him,” said Lisa. “He’s writing in the diary!”

  “What do you mean?” Nash said, nearly dropping the Chief of Assistants‌—‌who began to whimper and quiver‌—‌as he walked forward. “That’s impossible, we have‌—‌”

  He stopped in midsentence. Charlie and Darcy hurried over to look.

  On an otherwise blank, ancient and yellowed page, words were appearing. Again, letters formed, seeming as if they were written with fire, sizzling onto the page in bright, orange-red luminescence.

  At first, it was only a word. A simple yet chilling, menacing word. Then, more came.

  Greetings, children.

  I know what you hope to accomplish. Your forefathers, the Hunters, also tried to destroy me. Fully trained men and women‌…‌what fun I had with them!

  Do you expect to succeed, when they fell as mongrels?

  Come on, then, if you dare.

  The writing stopped, leaving the five teens standing shivering in the dark.

  “What should we do?” asked Darcy.

  They all looked around at each other. None seemed brave enough to answer.

  Except for Nash. “We should keep going,” he said. “We’ve come this far, knowing what we’re up against‌…‌for the most part. Why stop now?”

  “He said he had fun with the other Hunters! What does that mean about us? We’re just‌…‌kids!”

  “But we have to,” said Charlie quietly.

  They all looked at him.

  “We have these‌…‌abilities. Don’t we? We’re the only ones who can stop him. And we can’t let him keep on taking people whenever he wants to. I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

  They considered this for a moment, their confidence reduced.

  “He’
s right,” said Darcy eventually. “I don’t think I like it, but he is.”

  Liev smiled queerly. “Guess that just sucks for us, doesn’t it?” He looked around, waiting for the others to get the punch line. “Get it? Sucks? He’s like a vampire? Oh never mind.”

  The others groaned. Charlie took the first tentative step, and the others began to walk again, albeit slower than before.

  After ten minutes or so, Darcy stooped forward, the others swiftly changing direction to follow her. She was scratching at a wall intently. They could not see it at first, but she had. On the wall was a faded, dirty yellow scribbling of a key. Some of it had been washed away by moisture over the years, but not entirely.

  “This is the way!” she said.

  She began to run, the others following suit. The tunnel turned once or twice before straightening out. The group ran on until they saw a door that seemed eleven feet tall, carved from rock with thin bars of cast iron covering it.

  “That’s it!” Darcy cried. She jammed the elaborate key into the door and turned it. The door didn’t budge.

  “Great,” said Lisa. “Now how do we get it open?”

  “Move!” said Nash. “Let me try.”

  He handed the Chief of Assistants off to the twins and squared himself. Then he picked his foot up, knee bent, and stomped as hard as he could.

  Nothing happened.

  He stomped again, this time a crackling bolt rushing forth to crash into the door. But the door held fast. Only a black mark showed on its smooth surface.

  Darcy stepped up to it and pushed it, to see if Nash had at least jiggled the lock.

  “Hey, help me push, will you?”

  Liev, Charlie, and Nash‌—‌Lisa was left to firmly hold the Chief of Assistants in place‌—‌put their shoulders to the door. All four of them pushed with all of their might, but it would not budge.

  “Maybe we should just try the woods again,” said Lisa from behind them.

  The others stopped pushing and leaned against the wall to catch their breath.

  “I mean, we tried, right? It’ll take longer now, but we could still go in through the woods. Find a hole in the gate, somewhere.”

 

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