by T S Paul
I didn’t like being referred to as little, but I knew how to take a hint. Anastasia would be happy but at this moment, I wasn’t. I didn’t like to lose, and this case I’d stumbled upon counted as a loss to me. The monsters weren’t supposed to win.
“Like you predicted, isn’t it?” Arlen asked me as he handed over my keys.
“Pretty much. Maybe you could go back to Florida, watch some of that strange game you told me about,” I replied.
The grease-covered man shook his head. “That’s a pipe dream, my friend. I think I’ll go see the other ocean. California is calling me home.”
Taking the keys and starting up my van, I listened for the sound in the engine that had brought me here in the first place. Nothing. “You did a good job. Thanks, Arlen.”
“I did mine, and you did yours. The way of the world son, the way of the world.” Arlen shook my hand and looked me in the eyes. “You watch your back out there in the crazy world. And stay safe.”
I chucked my duffle bag into the back and pulled out of town. More and more Army and National Guard troops were pouring in now. The word was out on this place, and somehow they would contain the threat. Belmont Mill would fade from existence and the world would be none the wiser.
“You can’t save the world from itself.” My step-father used to say that all the time while I was growing up. It took this instance to really drive it home to me. My job was to hunt the monsters that disturbed society’s rules, not to right the wrongs. Seeing that those goals were different meant I was growing up.
It was fifty hours or so to Washington. What would I find when I got there?
Jack Dalton, Monster Hunter
Book 10
My name is Jack Dalton and I am a Monster Hunter.
Vampires. I don’t know all that much about them beyond what Anastasia’s told me, which makes me almost blind to this next assignment. The files I was equipped with describe them as one of the few truly immortal species. Barring the removal of the head, heart, and a massive exposure to sunlight, of course.
According to British intelligence, the apparent origin of the information, Vampires were ranked in a sort of caste system. Elders known as Ancients were the ultimate top of the Vampire rank system. It was their magical destruction that both ended the Great War and caused the event known as the Purge.
In 1914, war broke out in Europe. The governments of the world rushed to battle each other. Paranormals for the most part stayed far away from it, except in Germany and Austria. They wanted war, and they wanted power. What they wanted was control of a country and of an army. They coerced the Vampires to help them by using forbidden spells on them. The Vampires then attacked the allied troops at night, devastating them. How do you kill something that is already dead? The Witches used magic to control the skies by enchanting German planes and bringing forth minor Dragons from the nether realms.
Since the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, English paranormals then revealed themselves to governmental authorities and volunteered to help. The allied governments, once they got over their shock, begged the paranormals to do something about the Vampires. All they wanted was a solution to the Vampire problem; they didn’t really care about the Witches. The British Paranormal Council decided to create a great spell. Other councils around the world warned them of the consequences and problems that could arise, but they pushed forward, anyway; they wanted to help their government. The leader of the London Vampire Coven volunteered to be a part of the spell. The goal of the Magickal folk of Britain was to separate the two races and shield the innocent Vampires from the Fleisch und Blut Witches. No deaths were intended at all. That was not the point. So the spell was triggered and something unexpected happened: the Vampires died. The paranormal races call the Great War “The Purge.” The Vampires that were being used to attack allied soldiers died along with every Vampire in a 5,000-mile radius surrounding Paris, France. The Generals and the Allied leaders were ecstatic and patted each other on the back. The British Council was devastated. Not a few hundred, not a few thousand, but tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, of Vampires were killed. The only Vampires to survive were those that lived on the far Western coasts of North America and those in Japan and parts of China. The Germanic Witches of Flesh and Blood were also wiped out completely. The British suspected it was by surviving Vampires, but even they deny doing it. The British Witches’ Council were put on trial on charges of genocide by a council made up of elders from all the races. Those directly responsible for creating the spell were punished.
Of all the information in my files about Vampires, the Purge was the most interesting. I found it fascinating that the FBI, with a Vampire resource in the main office, didn’t have reports of our own. Anastasia could’ve updated them from her perspective. She had to have been alive then, but there was nothing about her in them. To the FBI, she didn’t seem to exist as a Vampire.
Washington had changed a bit since I was last here. Construction projects put on hold by the recent elections and political foibles were underway again. Scaffolding and large tents hid much of the Capitol building from sight. It was undergoing the first real restoration in more than a hundred years. Add it to all the highway work and tract housing going up and the whole town was a mess.
“Sorry I’m so late, there’s construction delays everywhere,” I explained as I walked into Anastasia’s small office. The FBI building was the still the same, but all the faces were different. I knew from my studies that many of the higher ups or department heads could change when a new president was sworn in, but this was the first time I witnessed it.
Anastasia glared at me before speaking. “Explain to me again why it was so important to you to disregard my orders and help those miners?”
On my way here, I’d had engine trouble mid-way across the country. Instead of catching a bus or asking for one of the local offices to pick me up, I’d stayed around the area, fighting monsters. It was my defined job to do so, but I’d ignored both Anastasia’s and the Director's orders to do so and as a result lost. The military was forced to step in.
“My job?” I started. “I understand that this is important, but you told me in the very beginning to make this job my own. To stand up to the Director if need be and prove him wrong. How can I do that if you are micromanaging me the entire time? Some cases I need to find on my own. Building up a network of informers and those I’ve helped is just part of it all,” I answered back. It was hard to hold her eyes without flinching. I’d knew that some Vampires were powerful but not that Ana was one of them!
Suddenly Ana was within inches of me. I could feel her breath on my face, her eyes peering into me. “Your job is what we say it is. Do you understand me?”
Raising my hands, I made to a motion to ward her off but froze. It was like my entire body was slowing down. Only my brain seemed active. Frozen in place, I could only watch as she examined me. Sniffing she moved in close to my neck.
A sharp prick and nothing.
That was what the entry in my secret journal read. I’d made the entry the very moment I climbed into the van. Like watching a movie, I’d witnessed my boss and confidant suck the life out of me, literally. The very act of feeling my blood leave my body and her blood red eyes forcing me to forget everything I thought I knew was a betrayal I could never, ever, forget.
“Why do I remember everything then?” I muttered to myself. Ana’s instructions were to travel to the first murder site and take over the investigation. I was to forget everything about our meeting except that the Ripper case was paramount. Track down the rogue Vampire and arrest him. If I was able to track him to his lair, then I was to inform Ana immediately.
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember if this was the first time she’d done this to me, but I couldn’t remember. “What's different this time?” I murmured to myself. Shaking my head, I made a promise to figure it out later. Right or wrong, I still had a murderer and monster to catch.
Five murders in as many weeks. In
each case, the victim was a part of the Washington political machine: senatorial aides, interns, or staffers. An equal opportunity killer, none of the deaths were along party lines so far. Washington police were stumped as to motive, according to the files Ana had given me.
“Who are you again?” Chief Sylvester asked me. I went straight to the top before doing any investigating in Washington. A turf war between the locals, the bureau, Bureau, and any of the alphabet agencies that seemed to be everywhere in Washington these days wasn’t something I wanted. Too many elements of this case were hotter than hell already without adding more trouble to it.
“FBI Magical Division. We’re the ones you call for any and all Paranormal activity or crimes,” I answered, handing him my badge and credentials.
Squinting, the chief glanced from my badge to me a couple of times before handing them back. “Supervisory Special Agent. That’s a pretty big title for such a young man like yourself.”
“The Director himself recruited me for the job. He wanted someone with intimate contact with the Paras as well as the training for the job. So far, I’ve been a part of both the sea monster and rogue Werewolf investigations. I was dealing with some nasty demonic creatures when Director Hoover called me. These Ripper cases are priority now for us,” I replied, ignoring his comment about my age. Nothing I said to him was a lie, from a certain point of view. One thing I’d learned in this job was that if you were going to lie, you had to make some part of it the truth. Just that little bit would throw off truth verification or mind readers. The things you learn in this business.
“Did he now? You going to get in my officer’s way here son?” Sylvester asked.
“I can’t control the main office and the Director, but I myself will try to stay out of your way. All I want is closed cases and justice for the victims. I leave the politics to others,” I explained the best I could.
The chief snorted and shook his head as he tried not to laugh at me. “Everything is about politics around here. Just catch this monster and leave your boss to me. J. Edgar and I already have a unique relationship together.”
“He’s a hard man to warm up to.” I stated. Most local police didn’t care for the FBI, as we took credit that they thought was theirs for cases we assumed.
Chief Sylvester chuckled and pulled out a bakery box. “You have to use the right sort of leverage with him. Donut?”
Reaching in and pulling out a pastry, I thanked him. “I don’t know if donuts work on the Director.”
“If he ever walked a beat they might. It’s why we all love them so much,” Sylvester replied, motioning at the box with his donut with a hint of powdered sugar on his face.
“Come again?” I asked.
“It’s not a cliché, kid. The reason donuts and cops go hand-in-hand is that pastry shops and diners are the only places open late at night or early in the morning. After a long shift of walking the streets, sometimes you just want to sit down for a moment, understand? Why not have a donut if it’s just sitting there in front of you? Besides, after all that walking, it’s not like we’re going to gain any weight.” Sylvester laughed at the look on my face. Staring at the donut in my hand, I could see what he was saying was true.
There’d actually been seven murders, but only bodies for five of them. Deaths six and seven were technically still considered missing persons. Looking over the official files, I could agree with the assumption that they were dead. Nobody loses that much blood and still survives.
“We found it over there in the nave, never seen anything like it,” the park ranger explained to me. We were standing in front of Lincoln’s statue inside the Lincoln Memorial building. “To me it looked like someone killed a big ol’ hog and butchered it. We couldn’t believe it was a man or two men.”
“Were there any remains other than blood?” I asked him.
The ranger shook his head. “Not a bit. Fortunately, it was us and not a tourist that found it. Opening up the bathrooms is first on our list in the morning.”
The police file I’d gotten showed it all in graphic black and white. Color photography was available, but I was almost glad they didn’t use it here. The entire area to Lincoln’s right was a charnel house, blood everywhere, coating the walls like it was painted on.
“Did anyone see anything unusual leading up to this? Strange activity, funny looking people, maybe folks who don’t want to leave?” I asked him.
“None of that. I told all the other officers the same thing, just the regular tourist groups. We’ve got a few artist types that hang out around here but that’s it,” he explained.
“Artists?” I asked.
The ranger motioned to one side. “I’ll show you.”
Walking to the entrance, he pointed to the young people below, sitting on the steps. More than one of them held sketch pads. “We’re a popular spot.”
I nodded. “And none of them are missing?”
The ranger cocked his head to one side. “None of the regulars...I’ll ask around, though.”
“Good, you do that. If you think of anything else, contact the bureau. I’m in charge of the investigation now,” I replied, shaking his hand.
For this to happen here in one of America’s holiest of holy monuments was either the work of a monster or someone trying to send a message. At this point I wasn’t sure which it was. But I was going to find out. I needed to look at the other five murders and find the intersection point.
“We thought of that as well,” the chief replied. “Detective work 101, find the connection. Of the seven deaths there’s two unknowns, a senatorial aide, two secretaries, a night watchman, and one of ours, an off-duty cop. I knew him, too. Which is why this case is so crazy and personal for us around here. Look at the map we put together…”
Now that we were all sharing, I could see two rolling boards in the conference room. A map of the city with push pins was most prominent. It was surrounded with news articles, photos, and evidence reports.
“No real pattern to it all. We know the memorial murders were first, but the timeline becomes muddled after that,” he explained by pointing out the different locations. “These three were killed over the recent holiday. The coroner can’t be completely sure of time of death for any of them, other than more than twenty-four hours.”
“How modern is your forensics team?” I asked.
Sylvester frowned, giving me a sharp look. “Why? Washington is a big city. We’ve got fingerprints and some analysis available.”
Motioning with my hand, I pointed toward where FBI headquarters was. “I’m not a regular agent, but even I know the field is becoming more scientific. A good entomologist or one of the sensitives would be able to answer time of death easily. Or you could hire a Witch to cast a spell.”
“You would seriously use freaks for this investigation? There’s no way to ensure they wouldn’t cover for each other and let this killer go!” Chief Sylvester yelled at me.
I looked down at the floor to hide my anger. During the course of the past year, I’d met a lot of good, decent, hardworking paranormals whose ethics were beyond what this man in front of me might believe. Without his support, though, my own investigation of the case would be doomed, so I stayed silent.
After a moment, the chief settled down. He was still audibly grumbling so I could hear him. “I understand your position, but it will be a cold day in hell before this department allows that. Understand?”
I nodded. Clearing my throat, I mentioned the FBI forensics laboratory.
Shaking his head, Sylvester said no. “We went over this already. No way I’m letting your boss take credit for this investigation. If I allow him his foot in the door he’ll take it. Bugs we can do, though. We’ve got a squint at the university already on the payroll. Good thinking. Once we establish a timeline, we can track this monster down.”
Taking my silence for agreement, the chief proceeded to show me what they had and explain most of the boards of evidence. A Witch on staff would’ve helped, tho
ugh. Fight the battles you can win. That was something my stepdad used to say.
“And?” Anastasia asked me. “What do the locals have?”
“Not a lot. The timeline is way off and most of the evidence available to enhance it is gone or ruined. I broached the idea of bringing in a Witch or specialist…” I started to say before she cut me off.
“I bet that went over like a lead balloon. Chief Sylvester is very inclusive of his department. He and the Director clash constantly,” Ana explained.
“He wasn’t happy. I did convince him to talk to an entomologist at the university, but with none of the bodies still on site that might be a lost cause. We…” I motioned to her, “know it was a Vampire. Of that we’re certain. Correct?”
Anastasia crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Yes. I’m able to sense these things.”
“I think...I think the murders at the Memorial were the first ones. They are sloppy. Something angered him or her and the victims were torn to pieces. The other five read like random kills, but I think even that is wrong. There is some small detail, a link or common theme that we’re all missing. I just have to figure it all out.” I shuffled through the files for a moment. Looking up suddenly, I asked, “Did profiling take a look at these?”
“Sort of. Because you were taking so long to get here, I had them do a basic work-up of the first four deaths. They didn’t have the memorial killings or the most recent one,” she explained with a scowl. “At the time, we didn’t have the complete evidence report either, so the psychologists could only examine the kills themselves. According to them, we’re looking for a man filled with some sort of rage.”
