“Looks can be deceiving. If I were to judge your cooking based solely on your demeanor, I would expect to be served poison. Just … sit down and shut your mouth. And don’t touch anything!” he added, as Serene began curiously fiddling about with a series of buttons and sliders on the wall. “Sons of harpies! This is more like … babysitting than protection.”
“And what precisely do you expect us to do?” Serene snapped, flopping down into a yellow, curly fur-covered recliner. “Simply twiddle our thumbs idly? We’ve been trapped in that damnable black hole you call a van for far too long. I am a genius, lest you forget, you one-eyed Napoleon. My mind needs stimulation.”
“And I gather you believe that I find your company enlightening and inspiring by way of contrast?” Hammett replied sharply.
“My dear fellow … ”
“Undoubtedly the concert will be more than enough to kindle your insanity,” Hammett interrupted.
“Concert?” Alex began to wonder if he had placed far too much confidence in the Cyclops. This was starting to smell like one of Serene’s “brilliant” ideas. “Concert? What … what are talking about?”
“The devil are we doing here, Hammett?” Serene demanded.
“Our contact is performing a benefit concert, here in Eville … for the victims of your brilliant meddling in powers beyond your control … or comprehension.”
“We’re probably near the clearing on the far east side of town,” Moody added thoughtfully. “The place where the “Evisceration Day Festival” is held each year. That would be my guess from the little I saw outside.”
“Ah, Evisceration Day,” Serene waxed nostalgic. “Now that’s what community is all about. Such wonderful memories. Which reminds me, Spleen Cleaver should not be gathering dust in the New Brasov impound. It should be bound to my hip, ever at my beck and call to smite our enemies.”
“The last thing any of us need, Necrosia, is a weapon of any sort at your side. But you are correct in your guess as to our location.” Hammett nodded to Moody. “Now if everyone would please allow me a moment of … ”
At that moment, emanating from more than a mile away, but still loud enough to be heard distinctly, a voice erupted. The words of this voice were unknown to Alex, nor could he even venture a guess as to what language it was, yet he still understood every thought embedded into the music. Sadness. Loss. Pain. Tragedy. Death. No spoken word, no visual image, could so effectively convey these truths so profoundly as the voice did to him at that very moment. The music mixed with his very blood, flowing through every vein, reaching every muscle, altering the beat of his heart to unite his entire being to the song. Then, rising like the phoenix from its own ashes, the voice rose above the sorrow, cleansed the soul like a bright light in the darkness. Hope. Compassion. Love. A world of optimism rushed upon him, stirring him so immensely that no trial, no hardship could possibly hold him down. He could conquer all. He would conquer all. For how long the music lasted, Alex could not say. It could have been seconds, or weeks on end. Entranced by the voice as he was, time lost all meaning, life became a dream. And then it ended, and Alex sat speechless as thousands of cheers rose up in thanks and awe for the performance they had been honored to witness.
“I think somebody needs a tissue,” Alex said in a soft, friendly voice after some time. Serene sat sniffling, wiping the tears from her eyes, but her face was calm and content.
“You’re one to talk, little man,” Moody said, rolling her eyes.
“What?”
“You’re crying, too.”
“What? No I’m not.”
“Yes you are, little man.”
Alex placed his knuckle under an eye, and sure enough, a tear trickled onto his finger. “Ah man … I guess I am crying. Jeez. Wow. I’ve never … I’ve never heard anything … experienced anything even remotely … I, uh …. Wow.”
“I never would have believed that Fabio himself would come to Eville and perform,” Moody added.
“Fabio? You know this … artist?”
“Of course, dummy. Everyone knows who he is. Fabio is … he’s more famous than Snotwaddle. Now the decor is starting to make sense.”
“As Necrosias have been gifted with the vision of science, so equally has Fabio been graced with the power of song,” Serene chimed in, wiping away another tear.
For the following minutes they sat in contented quiet, as if each had just emerged from a long, thorough body massage. Any animosity or frustration had been cleansed out. Even Hammett looked changed, the smallest of smiles visible as he sat with his eye closed.
After a good long while, a group of loud voices approached the vehicle. The Cyclops stood to attention, the previous calm jettisoned in favor of his stern vigilance. The voices moved along the vehicle, toward the opposite end from where they were. The commotion lingered a while, a door opened and closed, and gradually the voices died away. Footsteps were heard coming toward them, mostly drowned out by a beautifully whistled tune. A sliding door on the far side of the room opened, and the owner of the voice, Fabio himself, stepped forward.
Alex stood up to greet this superlative artiste, privileged beyond words at the thought that he would get to personally meet this ultimate talent, an individual who had provided quite possibly the most moving moment of his entire life. Coincidentally, what he saw standing before him proved to be quite possibly the greatest shock of his entire life.
Chapter 13- Fabio
Alex had never met anybody famous, at least not face to face. Enjoying a popular band’s live concert from the nosebleeds doesn’t count, and that’s as close as he had ever gotten to a celebrity. Snotwaddle happened to be a celebrity, on second thought, but somehow Alex felt that the professor didn’t exactly count. But now, standing before him, was Fabio, owner of a voice grand beyond words, one of the most influential individuals in this crazy world he had stumbled into. And the owner of “the voice” could never have been conceived in Alex’s wildest imaginings.
Long, straight hair, as golden as a summer’s afternoon, stretched down from Fabio’s head to his rear. This gorgeous, blonde waterfall somehow managed to be in near constant motion, partly through the singer’s regular tossing of his head, along with some mysterious breeze which circled directly above his head and flitted his lustrous locks about in a manner which could only exist in the realm of the finest of hair care commercials. Dark glasses covered his eyes, and a long line of earrings rose up each ear, glittering like a diamond mine. He wore a purple suit with bright green jewels sewn to the lapels and down the sides of his trousers. Clothing his feet were large boots of pink snakeskin, or something which looked just like it. Fabio also happened to be a goblin, undoubtedly the sexiest specimen of his race, but still a squat, floppy eared, wide mouthed oddity that was the goblin species.
Hammett stepped forward. “On behalf of the UEL, I wish to thank you for your cooperation in assisting us in this delicate matter. The whole world owes you its thanks.”
Fabio removed his sunglasses, tossed them on a nearby counter, and raised his jewelry-laden hands. “Fabio is much happy to be of abstinence.” The goblin then took a lengthy, low bow. His speaking voice sounded more like a regular goblin’s, a mixture of croaking and squealing, nothing at all like his majestic singing voice.
“I do not lightly offer compliments,” Serene began, standing up, “but I must say that your performance touched depths of my soul I had never known existed before now. Serene Necrosia, at your service.”
“You make many trouble, Necrosia lady.” Fabio swaggered up to Serene, his little belly jiggling with each step.
“Yes … well … oftentimes the truth of the matter becomes quite … twisted, pulled out into a web of exaggerated deeds. You can’t believe everything you hear, dear boy.”
“Say no more. Fabio comes to this Eville with song. His heart bleed little blood rains for victims. For the fourteen goblins who die. And to comfortable the cries of the peoples. Especially the womens. Fabio care deep for the wo
mens.” The goblin took the inventor’s hand and kissed it lightly.
“I care for all of the victims just as deeply,” Serene defended, “and I am eager to reach UEL headquarters and clear the air on this matter.”
“Doubtless,” the Cyclops interrupted. “Moving on, this is Quasimoody, or Moody for short, one of Serene’s associates.” The hunchback backed up Hammett’s comment with an uncomfortable smile and a nod.
“Ah, the Quasimoody.” Fabio hobbled to the hunchback and peered deep into her green eyes. “Fabio hear music of song, compost beautiful singing in her honor. Ripe apple among hunchies you are.” Moody grimaced as he took her hand in his.
“Hi. I’m … uh … Alex.” The young man stood up, still trying to wrap his brain around the shock and absurdity of the situation.
“Much good. Nice to meet you, Alice.”
“Um…yeah…actually, my name is Alex.”
“This is what Fabio says, Alice.”
Alex laughed nervously. “Right. Um… A-L-E-X is how you pronounce it. Alice is a girl’s name, actually.”
“Whatever, Alice-boy.” The goblin flicked his long fingered hand as if to dismiss Alex from his presence. “Now we talk of things importance.”
“That’s okay, um … close enough. You can call me whatever you like,” Alex muttered, sitting back down.
“Yes, let’s.” Serene nodded vigorously, her arms crossed, ignoring Alex’s comment. “While I am pleased to no end with the present company, none of this makes a lick of sense. I believe we all deserve some answers.”
At that moment Vega quietly entered the vehicle, exchanged a long look with his partner, and slipped into a corner as unobtrusively as if he weren’t even there.
“Very well. Come sit down and I will touch on the basics of our plan.” Hammett appeared more relaxed now that he had communicated with Vega.
“Do you be wishing to sit with Fabio?” The goblin had flopped into a seat, and now rubbed his fingers along the empty space next to him, a large goblin smile on his wide face directed at Moody.
Moody quickly dashed in the opposite direction. “Make room, Alice.” Alex was roughly shoved to the side as the hunchback pressed herself into the love seat with her friend.
“As you all know, we have returned to Eville,” Hammett started to explain. “While we believe that Eville is the most unlikely of places for the enemy to focus their search, there are stronger reasons for this move. Through a stroke of good fortune, Fabio arrived here yesterday, graciously volunteering his time to raise awareness for the victims of … the recent events that took place here.” Serene had opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut after a brief look from the Cyclops.
“Especially for the womens,” Fabio added.
“Now, as it turns out,” Hammett continued, “Professor Snotwaddle and Fabio are close acquaintances.”
“Fabio and Professor are this!” The goblin raised his hand, all of the long fingers tightly knotted together.
“And while Fabio is not accustomed to being involved in affairs such as these, he graciously volunteered after Snotwaddle explained our predicament.”
“So we’re all going on tour now?” Moody laughed mockingly.
“The three of you will quietly stay inside this vehicle at all times, showing exceptional gratitude and courtesy to our host, and doing precisely what I tell you at the very moment I command it. Tomorrow morning we will depart for Andresholl Station. I would prefer to leave tonight, but we feel it is best not to alter Fabio’s original schedule, and provide no reason to incite more interest in his activities than usual.”
“Andresholl Station?” Alex asked.
“Think of it as a significant transportation hub,” Hammett explained with unusual patience. “This is our key to leaving the continent and reaching UEL headquarters.
“And once we reach the station, pray tell what then?” Serene asked.
“Due to his … importance, Fabio enjoys a much expedited and less stringent inspection during his travels, something which will play greatly in our favor. Additionally, as was alluded to at Snotwaddle’s residence last night, we have provided convincing cover for the three of you. Fabio’s typical entourage is quietly being escorted out of town this very night, and you three are to pose in their stead.”
“Fabio gets terrible lonely on long trip.”
“This is the general outline we have thus far. Do not ask me for any further details as I shall not provide them. Vega, Snotwaddle and I are the only souls on this earth who know the specifics of our plan in their entirety. Not even my people at UEL headquarters. There’s no telling how deeply our enemy has slithered into our organization, or which communiqué might be intercepted. Since leaving New Brasov, Vega and I have terminated all communication with HQ. From here onward, it comes down to us.”
“So we’re pretty much on our own now,” Alex asked skeptically, “with no other backup … or UEL assistance, or anything?”
“We are entirely on our own until we reach our destination. That might sound overwhelming, but we trust that these measures are essential to your safety.”
The group sat for a while, silently pondering Hammett’s words. Alex began to feel a rising insecurity within. In the back of his mind he had always found comfort in the idea of this powerful UEL organization, with their vast resources, technology and staff, all focusing their efforts on his safety. It’s not that he didn’t trust Hammett and Vega implicitly, but this news made him feel more vulnerable than he had in a while.
“Sad faces. Sad faces. Fabio disgust sad faces!” The goblin hopped off his seat energetically. “No more! We drink! We sing! Fabio celebrate joy of life and beauties of the womens! We drink, yes! ”
“Now this is a goblin after my own heart,” Serene piped up.
“Yes, yes. Fabio holding hearts of all womens. Come, come!” The goblin hobbled off to a cabinet, and began pulling out bottles and drinking glasses, humming a tune as he went. Almost magically, the sound of the Goblin’s hum immediately began lifting the spirits of all present.
“Is that …” Serene gasped. “Oh my word! It is!” The inventor brushed past Hammett and dashed to Fabio. “I never thought … I can’t believe …” Her voice now trembled slightly, overcome with emotion. “This is a ’43 bottle of Sinner’s Muse … before the great fire at the distillery! This … this is the good stuff. Fabio, my dearest of goblins, host of hosts, I am eternally in your debt and your friend to the end of days. To Fabio!” A full glass of Serene’s favorite drink was raised high into the air, and then downed in one great gulp.
Chapter 14- Vasile’s Game
When an individual’s business is built almost entirely out of obtaining and selling information, the concept of good news and bad news begins to lean toward irrelevancy. Gathered facts, the harder to obtain the better, really only fall into two categories: how this information could be used for further advancement of one’s own goals, and how much it could then be sold or traded for. Even failures were learning opportunities, tools to continue to bolster your personal empire. Lord Vasile frequently reminded himself of this philosophy, especially when his efforts turned to futility. And, in regard to his centuries-long rivalry with Lord Constantine, it was this ideology which kept him fighting, deluding himself perhaps, to continue playing this game of theirs. Constantine was a bully, an ambitious tyrant seeking to control the Cosa Nosferatu through sheer force. Vasile, however, would never cower to this autocrat; never acknowledge his own house inferior. He would use his smarts, his unmatched information network, to play Constantine move for move in this treacherous competition. And one day he’d find himself on top.
The most recent play had come in the form of a race to snatch Necrosia. Constantine had pressed the first move, and in his haste blundered it badly. A sizeable portion of the vampire lord’s best agents had been slain in an all-out battle with the New Brasov Police. Vasile didn’t need his network of spies to know that House Constantine would still be reeling from the los
s. Furthermore, all houses of the Cosa Nosferatu were keeping their eyes focused on the ambitious vampire, their suspicions at an all-time high, practically tying his hands for the time being.
True, Vasile’s own move had met without the success he had hoped for. The goblin mercenaries he had hired to abduct Necrosia had all been slain or disappeared, and two of his operatives had died. Several of his best moles in the New Brasov police force had also been lost to him in the fallout. The goblins, however, were expendable tools, and his operatives only slightly more valuable. And as for his moles, well, Vasile never believed in placing all his eggs in one basket. There were plenty more eyes and ears within New Brasov working for him, most entirely unaware of each another, and what they had to share this day fascinated him immensely.
Vasile had caught wind of a rumor that Constantine’s pitiless witch, Luminita, had simply vanished, refusing to re-establish contact with her master. Some suggested that she had been killed, but Vasile respected her unyielding evil and incomparable skill too much to buy into that. He’d need to look upon her lifeless corpse with his own eyes first and even then he’d remain suspicious. Low and behold, news today reached him regarding the mysterious murder of the two officers in New Brasov, the message written in blood, no suspects, no evidence of a break-in, no witnesses … it had to be her. He’d bet his life on it. Luminita still lurked out in the shadows somewhere, ever on the prowl. Whatever her motives were now, whatever her relationship with Constantine, one thing remained perfectly clear: she had not given up her chase for Necrosia. And because of this coldhearted assassin, he knew now that Necrosia had been secretly removed from New Brasov. This truth yet remained a closely guarded secret, certainly held from public knowledge, and likely still unknown to Constantine. This knowledge could very well be the advantage Vasile so desperately needed, the most valuable fact he had ever obtained.
The Eville Protection Plan Page 7
