by JKMelby74
“This is a non-smoking facility. There’s a hundred dollar fine.” I pulled out my wallet along with my cigarette.
“Here,” I dropped the money down. “Two hundred. I had an extra one.” I then proceeded to light up.
“I’m sure you think you’re being very clever and funny, but that is not the case. We have your accomplices. We’ll get the information out of them if we have to.” I let out a breath, unleashing a faint cloud of smoke.
“Your hair is short.”
“I like it short.”
“You a lesbian?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“In other words, yes.”
“No. As a matter of fact, I’m not.” She said and then wiggled her ring finger at me. “Married two years.”
“Great. Congrats.” I took another drag.
“The only time you’re wasting is yours.”
“I beg to differ. I’m sure you have a lot of better things to do than sit here with me.”
“I do, but I’m getting paid for this. Are you going to talk?”
“I really don’t even know what you want to hear.”
“Fine. I’ll talk,” She opened up the envelope and pulled out some papers. She held them up in front of her face and began reading. “Jake Corba. Correct?”
“It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it.”
“Age thirty five. It says here you run a paranormal investigation firm. Interesting work?”
“It can be.”
“Now what leads a man such as yourself to such a unique career path?” I knew the tone. The same pandering attitude I always got from people when I told them what I did for a living. Ninety nine percent of the world seems to refuse to believe in the existence of anything that can’t be found in either the Bible or an encyclopedia.
“I have a demon in me.”
“Do you drink a lot? Take any drugs?” The usual follow up.
“No. Just possessed. It’s been swimming around in my soul since I was born.”
“Could you elaborate on that?” She kept up her game face, but I could see through it as clear as glass.
“I was only a few months old when it happened. My parents took me to church to have me baptized. They brought me up and the pastor said his words and as he dabbed me with holy water, that’s when it happened.”
“When what happened?”
“The creature entered me. My soul was taken over by a demon. The church burst into flames, killing my parents and the rest of the congregation. It was all pretty much downhill from there.”
“And you believe this?”
“I didn’t at first. I knew I had a demon inside of me but a lot of that night was something I didn’t care to remember. I remember the screams. I remember seeing my mother being pinned under a large beam from above. I remember her face. She was so beautiful. Her face was so serene and peaceful, despite the situation. She looked into my eyes and I looked back into hers. That’s the last thing I can recall clearly.”
“Sounds intense.”
“It was.”
“And because you were possessed?”
“It’s as good an explanation as any. I was young. I couldn’t control the thing. Are you trying to pin a thirty five year old arson case on me now?”
“No. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on now and you are not helping me. What about your partner?”
“Ivar? What about him?”
“What do you know about him?”
“Plenty. He’s kind of weird, but he’s a good guy. Smart. He knows just about everything. He’s also very spiritual. I think in some parts of the world, he’s a shaman. He told me that.”
“Does he have an address? A phone number?”
“I don’t know.”
“He works for you.”
“I know, but I’ve never had to call him or mail him anything. He just kind of shows up.”
“Is he a citizen of this country?”
“That, I admit, is embarrassing that I don’t know. It’s never really come up.”
“Tell me about the case you’ve been working on.”
“Is that what you want to know?”
“It would be a start.” I plunged my cigarette into the palm of my hand to put it out. It sizzled upon contact with my skin but I didn’t feel a thing. I could see the look on Reynold’s face. I casually dusted my palms clean and lit my last stick up.
“The last case. Fine. I’ll tell you all about this last case. Get comfy.”
Chapter 15
Opening Cases
It was a typical Monday morning. I walked into the office and saw Ivar at his desk as usual. He was sitting up straight, eyes glazed over with a post-it note attached to his forehead that read ‘Will be back in fifteen minutes’. He had the knack of projecting himself into the astral plane, or that was how he explained it to me. He often went into these states at least once a day to plunge through the cosmic everythingness in order to find us work.
I went to my desk which sat in front of the large window that looked down on Sunset Boulevard. It wasn’t the best view as we weren’t located on the best lot on Sunset. It was kind of ghetto, but it was cheap.
There hadn’t been any professional activity in the office for over a month and there was a nagging pile of bills staring at me from the corner of my desktop. I looked over at Ivar. He was still out to lunch, so I decided to make the best of it. I pulled open my bottom drawer and pulled out a full bottle of bourbon. I spun the cap off and took the first drink of the day. It stung in my mouth and was like fire down my throat. I felt a warm sensation spread outward to every inch of my body. It was a nice feeling but it never lasted long. The demon within me makes it impossible for me to get drunk. I repeated the process until the bottle was empty. Ivar suddenly came to with a slight start. He looked kind of silly getting his bearings in his chair. He was a big guy. He was built like a brick wall and his face was like stone. To see him flail around as he tried to get a sense of place was kind of amusing. He stripped the post-it off his face and crumpled it away.
“Morning.” I said.
“Jake. When did you get in?”
“Few minutes ago. You were ‘out’ again. Find anything interesting?”
“Yes and no. I sensed a surge of energy on the horizon.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It could be. There’s been a disturbance in the universal stream. I must do more research.” He then got up to his full seven feet and headed out the door.
“A simple yes or no would kill you?” I rifled through the bills on my desk and sorted through the final notices. I then checked the phone. A dial tone. We were good. The door swung open and Ivar lumbered back in with a newspaper. He surveyed the front page and held it up to me.
“This.”
“What?” I scanned the page. The only story that got my attention was a small blurb about Jackal Bledsoe. It said that he was, once again, released from Kennison Asylum.
Jackal Bledsoe was a self-proclaimed warlock with some proven mystical abilities. He’s also quite active in the field of sacrificial killings and just plain homicidal behavior He’s been a thorn in my side for years, but the most dangerous thing about him was his total lack of sanity. He’ll never get the chair because of his obvious insanity. He always works the system and gets a vacation sentence to a minimum-security nut farm and six months later he charms the parole board and gets released only to start the cycle all over again.
“Jackal’s out. That’s the surge?”
“I’m not sure what it means. I’ve never felt anything like this energy before. It’s powerful. I didn’t even really detect it. It was as if it was searching for me.”
“Well, I was looking for an excuse to get out today. I’ll go check out his usual hangouts and find out what he’s up to this time. You go and talk to the doctors at Kennison. Find out what was going through their heads when they released him this time.”
I was driving south to d
owntown to check on previous hideouts Jackal had used before. I had no solid lead as to where Jackal would go so I was willing to take a shot.
I pulled over on a small street near the garment district and pulled out my map. It still had some points of interest marked on it with red ink. Each check was one hideout down. The biggest unmarked block was currently a new condo development that offered luxury loft living on the top floor.
The last place I had to look was a warehouse near the old railroad tracks, which I knew to be Jackal’s first lair. There was a fence closing it off, which meant I’d have to work for it. I climbed over the fence and snuck towards the building. As I approached, I saw a door standing open. The lock and chain were laying on the ground. I went in.
It didn’t seem to have changed since the last time I was there. I continued on to the main floor of the warehouse. Light streamed in from above. Suddenly, a faint noise came from around me. I pulled out my gun and held it up toward the shadows. I heard footsteps. My eyes darted across the way and I could see figures emerge out of the darkness. First just a couple and then three more. Before I knew it I was surrounded by an army people. The only thing I could see that was common among them was the way their eyes glared at me. Dead and listless.
I took a step back when suddenly from out of the crowd, a man emerged. He was young with wild brown hair and a firm, solid build. He looked as though he jumped right off the cover of a romance novel. His eyes dared me to look back at them.
“You are trespassing. Leave now. Or die!”
Chapter 16
The Black Flame
I stood before the throng of people that surrounded me. Their dark, penetrating eyes drilling through me. The one whom I assumed was their leader was standing before me. His stance was authoritative and deliberate.
“I’m just looking for someone. I didn’t even know where I was going. I’m sorry if I barged in on something. I promise I won’t tell anyone you’re here. You can trust me.” I didn’t like pleading like that, but I learned a long time ago, when you’re one against hundreds begging’s okay. Their leader looked me up and down curiously.
“Who are you?”
“Jake Corba. I wasn’t aware you were having a club meeting today.”
“Jake Corba? I know you!”
“You do?”
“Yes! You’re that investigator guy. The guy with the curse.” My reputation had preceded me again.
“That’s me.” The leader’s expression softened and a smile appeared across his chiseled jaw.
“I knew it! I’m sorry about all that ‘leave or die’ stuff. That’s usually enough to scare off most trespassers. It’s a little over the top, right?”
“A little.”
“My name’s Tyler Thorne. I’m the Grand of this order.” He graciously offered me his hand.
“Great and what exactly is this order?
“We are the Order of the Black Flame.” His tone suggested that I should have had some kind of recognition of the name, but I didn’t.
“What exactly is this all about? I thought I knew all the cults that were active.” Tyler stretched his spine up and looked at me with a measure of curiosity.
“You don’t know?”
“Not really.”
“The Black Flame is an ancient order that is charged with the protection of this level of creation. We are also a representative body of the entire extra normal community.”
“Translate that, please.”
“We’re a group made up of humans, vampires, werewolves, witches and wizards and other, shall we say, creatures of the night who are dedicated to making this world better for everyone. At the risk of sounding too corny.”
“Cool, but aren’t you guys always fighting all the time?”
“Once, we all were at war, but time has eased our differences and we have come to realize our survival depends upon rising above those conflicts. Many of us want to be a part of modern society and to do that, we have worked to set aside our past and work together now to preserve this world for future generations and to enrich our lives today.”
“So this is kind of a United Nations of monsters.”
“We really don’t like that term. There’s still quite a stigma.”
“This is your little club house then?”
“We have several meeting spots all over the world. We just happened to be meeting here today to discuss a rather important matter. When we arrived, we found you.”
“And what are you?” He shot a little glimmer at me.
“Excuse me?”
“Which child of darkness are you? It’s so hard to just tell.”
“Later. Who are you looking for?”
“Just a garden variety whack job. Jackal Bledsoe.”
“I’ve heard of him. Nasty piece of work. He’s not here.”
“Okay. That’s all I need. May I go?”
“Actually, it’s fortunate you’re here. We’ve assembled here today to discuss a serious matter, and I think you may be able to help us.” I began to smell a pay day approaching.
“What were you discussing?”
“It’s in the paper today. A drilling expedition up in Washington State has uncovered a dead body.”
“Okay. How does that affect you guys?”
“The problem is that this body was found tangled in the roots of a tree that’s known to have been there for hundreds years.”
“Quite a trick.” Tyler looked around. The crowd was encroaching on us.
“Come with me.” Tyler began to squeeze through the crowd toward a small door in the back. I followed him into an old break room that had been used by the employees of the warehouse back when it had been functioning. He flipped on a switch and light flooded the room. I caught faint glimpses of scurrying bugs dashing into the shadows. There was one table in the middle of the room. Tyler sat down and indicated for me to join him. I pulled a nearby chair out and settled onto it.
“I take it you didn’t read the story.”
“No.”
“We believe the body is that of Morgan Sanguine.” I felt a twinge in the back of my head, like a bullet hitting the back of my skull. I hadn’t heard that name in years. I had learned that she was the sorceress who had originally cursed my family after she failed in a bid to win Earth as a new realm of Hell. My ancestor was able to stop her, which resulted in her leveling a blood curse upon the Corba family. No one had known where her body had been stored, if there was a body at all to be had.
“Morgan Sanguine?”
“You’re familiar?”
“She’s the reason my family was cursed in the first place. Why do you think it’s her body they’ve discovered?”
“The body was found under a tree that was hundreds of years old, yet it didn’t have any sign of decomposition. That alone is reason to wonder. I also happen to know that the small cadre of monks who were sent to the new world to dispose of her remains left her corpse buried in that general vicinity. Legend says they planted a tree over her body to mark her grave. The tree grew but its bark turned black and the leaves that grew on it died instantly.”
“All right. So the good people of Washington have accidentally dug up Morgan Sanguine. So what?”
“Now that Morgan’s body has been found, we’re concerned that groups loyal to her will try to recapture the corpse and attempt to bring her back.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“You, more than anyone, know that it is.” In the circles I ran in, death was more of a revolving door.
“Are you hiring me?”
“I’m asking you if you might be able to help us. I’ve spoken with some officials in Washington, and thanks to a few colorful facts; I’ve arranged to have Morgan’s body transported here to Los Angeles. When it arrives, we are going to take possession of it and destroy it.”
“Good plan.”
“Yes, except for The Reborn.”
“Who?”
“The Reborn is mostly made up of Morganists. They bel
ieve that true life doesn’t begin until after you’ve died. Suicide is part of their induction process.”
“I guess they don’t have a lot of members.”
“Six primary members in California, as far as we know. There could be more, though. Whenever one of them dies, the others bring them back, but with each incarnation they become less human.”
“Zombies? In my experience, they aren’t exactly the sharpest forks in the drawer. You think they even know what’s going on?”
“It’s a safe bet that they do and it’s only a matter of time before they come for Morgan’s body and when they discover what we’re doing, they are going to be relentless in getting it back.”
“Well, your order looks big enough to handle this.”
“You’d think so, but they really aren’t fighters. They are more civil dissidents than revolutionaries. I feel we need someone with a little more hands on experience.”
“What do you need?”
“I’ll be at LAX to accept Morgan’s body tomorrow. Will you help me?”
“You pay for parking?”
Chapter 17
The Reborn
I returned to the office a little after six. Ivar was hunched over his desk looking for whatever information he could on his computer. He looked up as I walked in.
“How did you make out at the hospital?”
“I spoke with the doctors at Kennison, but they had no helpful information. Did you find anything?”
“I stumbled onto something. You ever heard of the Order of the Black Flame?”
“Yes.”
“I ran into them and their Grand, Tyler Thorne, told me about Morgan Sanguine.”
“Morgan? What about her?”
“They seem to think she’s been dug up in Washington. They said it was in the paper.” Ivar lunged for the front page that was still sitting on my desk. I saw his eyes race from one end of the page to the other until finally they seemed to settle. I watched his lips move as he muttered beneath his breath. He threw the paper down.
