“As I said, we all have our missions. Most of my children are with the Atlanteans, trying to help my other daughter. She is in human form fighting in the duality,” he said somewhat sadly. “I think you’ve taken in enough information for tonight. This will just exhaust you more. I think you need food as well,” he said. “I’m having a room prepared for you, and someone should be in soon with food.”
“Thanks,” she said around a yawn. She had finished the tea and put the cup on Atum’s desk.
“One more cup,” he said. “Your food is here.” The door opened and a man holding a tray came in. He sat the tray in front of Sam. She had no idea what was on her plate, but it tasted wonderful. She finished every bite on the plate and downed the tea. She was starting to feel better, but still very tired.
“Good,” Atum said. “Mamet will show you to your room.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth when the door opened.
A petite woman in a pair of jeans and a tank top came through the door. Her dark hair was very long and she was quite young-looking. “Hi, I’ve never met a human before. This is cool!”
"Hi,” Sam said, “I don’t usually hang around with Gods…well other than Atum.”
“I have a million questions!” Mamet said.
“Mamet,” Atum said gently, “Sam needs to rest, don’t overwhelm her right now. Take her to her room.”
The girl was sullen. “Okay.”
The two walked out the door and Sam was amazed. “WOW!” Sam said. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “I expected the ship to be futuristic, but I didn’t expect the old-world charm to be mixed in with it.”
“We’re very old and we like beautiful things. A lot of the ‘futuristic and modern’ styles that humans have bores the shit out of immortals.”
“It bores the shit out of me, too. I guess I never thought about the Gods being immortal and all that. You wear modern clothes and everything seems so futuristic,” Sam said.
Mamet giggled. “It’s modern and futuristic to you, but it’s actually all very old. We’ve always had technology. What you call ‘futuristic’ is more ancient than you can imagine.”
“I keep forgetting that,” Sam said. “Or maybe I’ve just never fully realized it before. Seeing the two that humans have always thought were worlds away and millennia away from each other melted together like this brings knew understanding. My mind has been blown so many times tonight I can’t believe my head hasn’t exploded.”
“Well now you can rest. Atum says you should rest as long as you can, don’t worry about getting up for work. You have been through a great deal and you need time to recover,” Mamet said. “It’s also not safe for you to go back to your work or home if you’re not ready.”
“You’re right,” Sam said. “I’ve never experienced anything like I did tonight. I’m a bit shaken.”
“You were eye to eye with pure insanity,” Mamet said. “Of course, you’re shaken. I think you’ll like your room.”
There were beautiful gold doors carved with symbols Sam didn’t understand. They were also inlaid with beautiful colorful polished stones.
“Hell,” Sam said, “I’m impressed by the damn door!”
Mamet opened both doors. There were beautiful marble columns inlaid with gold vertical strips. In the middle of the room was a great round bed. There was a lot more in the room, but Sam was too exhausted to take it all in.
“Damn!” was all she could get out.
“I’ll leave you to sleep, good night,” Mamet said.
“Goodnight,” Sam said. As soon as she hit the bed, she was out.
She slept for two days without waking, but when she got up she felt better and stronger than she ever had before.
“What the hell was in that tea?” Sam asked Atum. “That is some good shit!”
“Indeed,” Atum said, “it is good shit. You can go back to work if you like. We can hide you from her and you are strong enough now that she shouldn’t trouble you.”
“Convenient that I am all better before I get the full tour,” she said jokingly.
“From what I’ve heard, your mind was blown enough just with the small amount you’ve seen already,” Atum said.
“That’s true,” Sam said. “I guess it doesn’t sink in that you and all your technology have been around longer than I can imagine until I see everything all together. It hit me all at once.”
“You’ve also seen a lot,” Atum said. “It’s one thing to hear about the insanity, it’s another to come face to face with it. Plus, you’ve been working with Fenrir. All of these things are going to help you understand everything more. That means everything you know is going to come crashing down. It will feel like the world has gone out from under you.”
“That’s a perfect description of the sensation,” Sam said. “I think I still need some time for all this to process before I can learn anymore.”
“Indeed,” Atum said. “For now, go back to what is normal and let things settle.”
“Okay,” Sam said. “Thanks for the help. Don’t worry, I know, come to you immediately if I see Pink or her tentacles.”
“Yes,” Atum said.
“See you, boss,” She said.
“Take care, Sam,” Atum said.
CHAPTER 9: THE BARTENDER THAT SAW TOO MUCH
Bertha ran into the room yelling, “Jonathan Beaubien, you’re up!” She handed him the number and took off.
Jon went to the garage, swiped his finger, and punched in the case number. “Good morning, Agent Beaubien. Here is the story behind your assignment…:”
“SUCH BEAUTY, SUCH TEETH”
“You wanna know about my scars.” The old man traced the label on his beer bottle with his remaining finger. “Everybody does.”
After a moment of silence, he continued, “My name’s Wilbur Marsh. My brother Jebidiah, now he had some real scars.”
I studied the twisted scars on his neck and face, the eye patch, the ragged clumps of hair on his flayed pink head. In smoldering August, Marsh wore a faded plaid flannel shirt, buttoned to the wrists. His red hands looked like Halloween props, bloated and scarred, only one index finger and the opposite thumb intact.
The Marsh brothers had endured a great white attack in the 1960s. Recently, a nature channel had attempted a documentary analyzing the encounter; local scuttlebutt claimed someone had been killed during the filming, not far from this ramshackle seaside bar.
“I see what you’re thinking, how could my brother look worse? Well, he’s dead, that’s how much worse.” Marsh harrumphed ostentatiously and sucked on the neck of the empty bottle, glancing at me with his blue eye.
I showed two fingers to the bartender.
“So beautiful,” he mused. “She was so beautiful.
“We saw the fins first,” Marsh said, after a long swallow off the fresh beer. I pushed mine in his direction as well. “When you’re out on the water, you see fins all the time. Long as you stay in the boat you’re good.” He shrugged. “It’s not like sharks can climb.” He chewed his ragged lip, stared into the depths of the green bottles behind the bar. They glinted like ocean waves. “That’s what you think, anyway.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“There she was, in the middle of all those fins, staring up at us. Silent, so helpless looking, dark hair spread out like kelp around her head. So beautiful. The fins circled her like numbers on a clock, taller than her head. Jeb was determined to save her. I figured she was already a goner.”
He rubbed his thumb over the mermaid on the beer label. His watery eye seemed to drown in his gnarled face.
“We pulled her onto the boat. Her fingers and hands didn’t seem to work. She musta been out there so long, so far from shore, getting colder, the sharks closing in. She sprawled on the deck, wrapped in a long filmy skirt, helpless, her back humped up all weird. She was bit on the neck, her flesh ragged and showing pink inside. She flapped like a landed fish.”
Marsh undulated his ruined hand like a wave before mouthing t
he beer bottle. “Jeb turned her over, asking if she needed help. It was the first time I saw titties, and I stayed back a little, so I could look.” He gazed at the label, where the mermaid’s presumed breasts were hidden by her long green hair. “So, I wasn’t close when she opened her mouth and her beautiful face peeled back and those teeth, oh lord of the seas, those teeth, they just came out, razor triangles. She bit and bit while we bled and fought. I finally kicked her in the chest and knocked her into the sea. That triangle fin on her back unfurled and she left with her cousins. Through the whole thing she never said a word, just stared at us with those black, black eyes.
“Kind of like you, miss.”
End.
“We are not concerned with the old man; everyone thinks he’s a crazy old drunk. The bartender heard the entire story. The woman was not a mershark, but she wasn’t human either. There are skinwalkers on our side and there are humans turned into something similar to skinwalkers that are on the other side. This woman was on the other side, she changed form in front of the entire bar and killed everyone in the bar except one of the bartenders. You must find the bartender and try to convince him that what he saw wasn’t real. Van will be your partner, since he is particularly skilled with memory manipulation,” the female voice said.
“I’m really glad I work for you people and I’m not your enemy,” Jon said. He got in the car and Van was already in the passenger seat. “Hey, Van, how are you?”
“I am well,” Van said, “and you?”
“I’m not bad,” Jon said. “Are you ready for this? I don’t know how you can convince someone that has seen a person change form and tear everyone apart except you that what they saw was normal.”
“You’d be surprised,” Van said. “Most humans want to forget things that are out of the ordinary. It’s usually a simple task if they want it. It becomes a problem if they don’t want to forget.”
“Those are the ones that are on our side, aren’t they?” Jon asked.
“Usually,” Van responded.
Jon pushed the button and they ended up in the driveway of a trailer. Van was good at pretending to be human; he could remain still and quiet. Jon knocked on the door, and they had their badges ready. The door opened just a tiny bit with a few chains preventing it from opening any further.
“What do you want?” came a man’s voice.
Jon and Van held out their badges, “We’re NSA, sir. We’d like to ask you a few questions about the murders you witnessed at the bar,” Jon said.
The man stood frozen for a moment. He was terrified. After a few moments of indecision, he opened the door and let them in. As soon as they were in, he put the locks back in place. The door was filled with different kinds of locks. It took him a couple of minutes to get them all locked again.
He turned to face them, “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy since that night. I’m Alex McFarland.”
Jon took his hand, “Special Agent Jon Beaubien, and this is my partner Agent Van.”
Alex shook both men’s hand. “I’m not sure what I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police.”
Van spoke into Jon’s mind, “We cannot kill this one, he is one of ours. Recruit him.”
Jon looked at him to be sure he really said that and Van nodded. This would require a different approach. “Can we sit down and talk about this?” Jon asked.
“I’m so sorry, I’m still pretty shaken up, and I’m a terrible host. Please sit down,” Alex motioned to the couch. Alex sat in a recliner facing the couch.
“This is not your first sighting of something unusual, is it?” Van asked. Usually Van would let the human do the talking, but since this man belonged to the Ancient Ones the situation had changed.
“How did you know that?” Alex asked.
“I can read your mind,” Van said. “No, I’m not like the one you saw kill all those people. I’m simply not from this planet. You were correct in your assumption that we were the Interdimensional and Veil Affairs. Jon is human, but I am not. Usually, I would remain silent and pick your brain, while Jon did all the talking. You are different. You belong to our side, which means we don’t want to kill you, and I don’t think I can remove the memory and convince you that what you saw was very normal. The only other option is to recruit you. How would you like to work for us? I can guarantee you will make more money with us than you do as a bartender. Your benefits will be better also. You will learn all about reality. What do you say?”
“Wow, this is kind of surreal. I mean, how can I say no, really? Yes, I’ll do it,” Alex said.
CHAPTER 10: THE WENDIGO
The men took Alex to the new recruits’ office where he would be trained. Van vanished and Jon went back to the office where Bertha ran off the elevator and screamed “Liam Peterson!”
Liam ran up to Bertha and took the case number. He twirled the ends of his epic mustache like a villain in an old movie. He headed to the garage, swiped his finger, and entered the case number.
“Good morning, Agent Liam Peterson,” the female voice said. Here is the backstory to your case…:”
“ROTTEN FISH”
Julia Boden slammed the palm of her hand against the swing doors and stormed out of the boardroom, leaving her bag hanging from the back of her chair at the head of the table. The meeting had not gone well. As her team slunk out of the stuffy room, stealing sidelong glances at one another, she turned her back upon them all, staring out across the magnificent view of the Thames below her. Louise, her secretary of five years, wished her a good evening and headed for the exit. Julia barely grunted in reply. Bunch of sycophants and leeches. She cast a long, cool look around the business suite making sure she was alone. Like a raptor in her beautifully crafted nest, Julia liked it best when the place was empty. This was her time to think, to plan her next assault upon the unwary men who came to do business with her. Only a fool entered Julia Boden’s domain, assuming their gender gave them the upper hand. Unfortunately, today’s venture had been a disaster, and as she scraped her perfectly manicured, red talons through her hair, she decided to call it a day. She made for the lift.
The underground car park belonged to Boden Enterprises and so, with the exception of Julia’s Lotus, it was usually abandoned by seven thirty. Tonight was no different. A light evening breeze caught around her heels and sent some discarded rubbish skittering across the concrete. She shuddered and hitched her jacket around her shoulders, cursing the overhead electric lights as they fizzled and flickered. Just as she reached the car and began pulling out her keys, Julia noticed the shadows across the lane. Something appeared to be moving from within its nebulous centre. A filthy, hacking cough made her start and she dropped the keys upon the floor. A hunched-over figure was beginning to emerge and stagger towards her, preceded by a fetid odour so vile that Julia began to gag at the unmistakable smell of rotten fish.
“Sorry to startle you miss. I was hoping you might have a few quid spare so I can get a hot drink? It’s a bit parky down here tonight.”
After the initial shock, Julia gained her composure and fear was quickly replaced by disgust. “What the hell are you doing down here? This is private property, you know. Are you squatting here?” This last question was shrieked out with such incredulity it echoed off the walls. The old boy writhed within his soiled black overcoat and lifted his hands to placate her.
“It’s alright miss. I’m not doing any harm. I got nowhere else to go, see?” Raising his rheumy, wet eyes up at her, he gave what he hoped would be a winning smile but the blackened pegs and sour breath made Julia recoil even further. “It’s freezing cold out there and I’ve got this cough.” He hacked into a stained hanky to hammer the point home, but he had picked the wrong character for any trace of human kindness.
Julia was brimming with a toxic cocktail of emotions: disgust, horror, repugnance, but above all, fury. How dare this vagrant move onto her property, spreading his disease-ridden belongings everywhere? She turned her back on the wretched creature and yell
ed into her mobile phone. Minutes later two security guards appeared from inside the building and made their way towards the old man. A low, menacing growl made them stop short. From out of the shadowy cardboard boxes, a mangy lurker began to crawl forward, standing between the man and his would-be ejectors. One of the guards immediately raised a baton, ready to strike.
“Don’t hurt him. He don’t mean no harm. He’s just looking out for me. Come here, Dylan. There’s a good boy.”
“Get them out of my car park now, and get rid of that bloody smell too.” Julia unlocked the car and started to get in. With unexpected agility, the man lunged forward, catching her arm as she sank into the leather seat.
“Please don’t do this. We’re not well.” He glanced at the dog who raised his lips, showing a line of wickedly sharp fangs. “We don’t want any trouble do we boy? We just want to stay warm and dry. Where else could we go?” No longer moist and hazy, his eyes appeared startlingly focused and clear. The pupils, like stygian obsidian marbles, bore into her own wary blue orbs. Julia tugged her arm away and slammed the door shut. She lowered the window enough to peer over the top. “That really isn’t my problem, is it? Go wherever you like. You can sleep wherever you want, just not in here.” With that she revved the engine and sped out of the car park. The dog howled pitifully as the shadowy, black figure disappeared from view.
It was ten fifteen when Julia finally pulled up outside her apartment building. The doorman greeted her with his usual tip of the hat, smiling, expecting nothing in return. He was not disappointed. She pushed past and slumped in the lift, pressing three on the panel. Before she had removed her shoes and jacket, David had appeared carrying a rather large glass of red Chardonnay. For the first time that day, a genuine smile crept over her face. “Thank you, darling. How did you know?”
“I could tell by the way you opened the door. Come and sit down while I make you some dinner.” The pair sat talking for over an hour before David finally yawned and stood up. “I need to get to bed. Don’t stay up too late, sweetheart.” Julia padded into the bathroom and ran herself a hot bath. She desperately wanted to wash away the feel of that dreadful man before she slept.
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