Among You

by Jack Wallen

  “Come on Skor…there’s no need for this.”

  “What there is no need for is cowardice,” Skorsdan growled. “I will not be oppressed by a fear mongering dictator. Gorman single-handedly re-invented our race to silence our power. Why? To blend in with the humans? We hide behind masks in fear of subjugation by lesser creatures. We should be the ones reigning over the kingdom of Earth.”

  Comnical continued backing away. “Skorsdan, aren’t you taking this a bit far? Maybe we should bring this to Gorman and…”

  A violent arc of blue light erupted from Skorsdan’s palms and shot across the space between he and Comnical. When the light crashed into the ‘Kind boy, he rose from the ground and convulsed like a rag doll shaken by an angry child.

  “Skorsdan,” shouted Valiskil. “You’re going to kill him.”

  “And I’ll kill you as well, should you go against me.”

  Valiskil fell silent and slowly made his way back to Skorsdan’s side.

  “Please, Skorsdan, do not end his life?”

  “His life is already over, Valiskil. It was the second the light touched down on his flesh.”

  Skorsdan released his hold on Comnical. The pulsing beam of light turned to phosphorescent dust in the darkness. Comnical dropped, lifeless, to the ground.

  “Follow me.”

  Valiskil hesitated. “Where are we going?”

  Skorsdan turned, his eyes now glowing blue. “Does it matter? Follow me immediately or meet the same fate as Comnical.”

  The two boys disappeared into the darkness of night.

  *

  Babbette slept soundly, tucked tight against Timely’s back. It had been such a long day for two girls deeply entrenched in tradition: A new school, interacting with so many humans, meeting Scott’s parents. Sleep tugged them gently into the world of dreams with ease.

  Skorsdan knew the Gaultier House as if it were his own. Navigating the corridors and secreted passageways to the bedroom shared by Babbette and Timely was effortless. The door to the room swung open on perfectly silent hinges.

  Valiskil and Skorsdan stood in the doorway, staring down at the sleeping girls. Skorsdan’s glowing blue eyes were the only feature visible within the black silhouette of their shadowed outline. The boys entered the room and shut the door behind them.

  A brilliant blue ball of liquid light formed in Skorsdan’s upturned palm.

  “Babbette,” Skorsdan whispered.

  There was no reaction from the bed.

  Skorsdan funneled more energy into his palm. The blue orb splashed fingers of light toward the bed. Instead of speaking with his mouth, Skorsdan sent his whisper of words through the energy.

  Babbette. Timely. Awake.

  The hiss caressed the sleepers into waking.

  “Who is it?” The groggy voice of Timely broke the silence within the room. When her eyes finally cracked open, the dance of brilliant blue fluorescence shocked her into full coherence.

  “Babbette,” Timely said in a panic. “Wake up.”

  “What’s going on Timely? Let me sleep.”

  Babbette finally opened her eyes and instantly recognized the color. Her hand shot to the nightstand and her fingers fumbled for the lamp. As soon as the warm glow of the lamp spilled about the room, Skorsdan allowed the fingers of energy to dissolve into dust.

  “Get out,” Babbette spat. “Now.”

  Skorsdan shook his head.

  “If my father catches you here, he’ll…”

  Skorsdan sat on the bed next to Babbette.

  “He’ll what? Your father thinks we’ve made nicey-nice. He might assume we’re about to, I don’t know, engage in a coital foursome. Although that sounds rather appealing, it’s not what we’re here for.”

  “Leave, Skorsdan,” Timely barked. “And take your lap donkey with you.”

  “Not until I get what I want.”

  Babbette pulled the covers up to her chin.

  “Don’t worry. The sanctity of your treasure is safe…for now. What I want is even more precious than what’s between your legs.”

  Timely grabbed Babbette and pulled her in close.

  “Oh…that just breaks my heart.” Skorsdan turned to Valiskil. “Doesn’t that pluck at the heat and meat of your heart?”

  Valiskil placed his hands over his heart and nodded.

  “Sorry girls. Again, not what I wanted. You’re actually going to get off easy tonight. You see, what I want is to settle a score. To do that, I need to find your cherished halfling. You are going to lead me to him.”

  “Get out,” Babbette hissed. “If you don’t, so help me I will have Father here faster than you can leave this room.”

  Skorsdan laughed and shot out a single tendril of blue energy to wrap around the neck of Babbette.

  “You know, it was fun playing friendly with you for that brief moment. In the end, though, my pride is so much more important than a companionship that offers me nothing outside of a few touchy feeling moments. And, by touchy feely…I don’t mean the good kind. Now…give me his location or I’ll end your life.”

  Babbette’s hands scrambled madly about her neck to gain some purchase on the energy preventing her lungs from doing their job.

  “Please understand, I will kill you. Call me crazy, but…”

  Before Skorsdan could continue his threats, Timely unleashed a banshee’s wail of a scream. Valiskil rushed to Timely and placed a hand over her mouth. Timely managed to clamp her teeth over the meat of his palm and bite down. Eventually, Valiskil’s pain threshold was exceeded and he released his hold. Timely jumped out of the bed, to the doorway, and released another cry for help.

  The first roar echoed off the walls of the Gaultier House. The words were indecipherable, but the voice could not be mistaken.

  Gorman Gaultier.

  “Skor, we better run,” Valiskil whispered.

  “I’m not going anywhere without the location of the halfling.”

  “Babbette,” Gorman shouted loud enough to shake paintings from their mounts.

  “Sorry, Skorsdan,” Valiskil mumbled just before he rushed out of the room and disappeared.

  Understanding the gravity of the situation, Skorsdan released Babbette. Better he escape with his life and live to eventually exact his revenge, than be stripped of life should Gorman catch him strangling Babbette. He ran to the door and turned back.

  “This isn’t over, Babbette. One day I will find Scott. When I do, his life is mine to take.” With that, Skorsdan fled into the darkness.

  Seconds later, Gorman entered the room.

  “What is going on in here? Are you two okay? Babbette, my dear? Timely?”

  It was Babbette who answered.

  “We’re fine, Pappa. But you’re going to want to locate Skorsdan. He is planning to finish what he started with Scott. Valiskil was with him.”

  A low, rumbling growl poured from the throat of Gorman. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too deep to discern. “I will find that boy and, for the first time in my life, kill one of my own kind. He has become too dangerous for our people. Go back to bed, girls. I will post a watch outside your door.”

  Gorman reached down and gave each girl a gentle kiss on the forehead. He then stood, turned, and sped out of the room. The second the door closed behind him, he raced to his sleeping quarters, grabbed his phone, and dialed a special number for the Tyler’s End Sheriff – a number only Gorman Gaultier possessed.

  “Skorsdan. Yes, again. Find him and lock him away. When he’s in custody, call me immediately. I want every resource you have on this. Yes, now.”

  Gorman disconnected the call, furious he had to again waste time on what he thought was a reformed miscreant.

  “This is my fault,” grumbled Gorman, “I should never have trusted that young man from the beginning.”

  Gorman took a moment to dress and then rushed back to Babbette’s room. When he entered, the girls were sitting at the foot of the bed. Babbette held her phone to her ear.
>
  “Who is she…”

  Timely shushed Gorman. Gorman bristled.

  “Scott, it’s Babbette. I’m very sorry for calling at such an hour, but I wanted to warn you that Skorsdan is coming for you. He doesn’t know how to find you…”

  Gorman gestured for the phone. Babbette stared up at her father and immediately recognized the insistent look on his face. She handed the phone to him.

  “Scott, this is Gorman Gaultier. I have the entire Sheriff’s department out looking for Skorsdan now. If you see him, call Babbette’s number and let her know. Do not engage with Skorsdan, he is unpredictable and dangerous. Yes, I know you bested him once. Do not assume you would prevail again. Thank you.”

  Gorman handed the phone back to Babbette and waited for to say goodbye. The second she did, he demanded Skorsdan’s phone number from Babbette.

  He dialed his phone and waited.

  “No answer,” Gorman growled and then stared into the space around him, beyond the moment. When finally he spoke again, his voice was a distant whisper.

  “I have worked so hard to prevent such tragedy from befalling the ‘Kind. I have repressed our very nature, insisted we not pry too deeply into a dark, secreted past.”

  Before he spoke another word, Gorman moved to the door. When he turned, his face was lined with suffering.

  “I will not allow one young man to undo everything I have done for the ‘Kind. I have always been, and always shall be, a man of mercy and truth. Understand what I do is done to protect us from ourselves and our past.”

  With that, Gorman slipped into the shadows of the dark hall.

  *

  Within the ageless, beautiful marble and stone walls of the Gaultier manse, existed a secreted room known only by the lord and ruler of the house. The room had one single purpose – to secret away rituals and acts forbidden to all of ‘Kind-dom. The room hadn’t been used in decades. The stale, damp air hadn’t moved since the last time Gorman tucked himself away within the Room of Evocation. He was foolish, then, to think the Rite of Cleansing would work. He should have known the power would eventually come to light. All he could do now was prevent its spread.

  Dorimaines Circulus was still on the floor, intact. So long as the circle remained complete, the circulus could be used. He stepped within its confines and steepled his fingers before his lips.

  No words were necessary for the summoning to work. Gorman need only place the image of the one to be summoned into his mind and intone the multi-tonal melody.

  A ghost image of Skorsdan’s face appeared in his mind’s eye. Gorman pulled in a deep, hot breath and began the melody. The triad of minor tones seeped from between his lips. The effect was as hauntingly beautiful as it was frightening.

  Before Gorman, an orb of black light appeared. Silver threads wove their way through the color like writhing snakes. From within the heart of the black orb, a distant scream poured. The ability to simultaneously breathe in slightly as he exhaled enabled Gorman to continue the tune without breaking the spell. The scream rose in volume and intensity.

  Bolts of energy shot out of the black orb and touched down on the solid walls of the Room of Evocation. Finally, a hand was thrust from the heart of the floating black stain. An arm was followed by a shoulder and then a foot and leg. The body was pulled, out of order, into the Circulus. As the shape reformed before Gorman, the scream rose in volume and pitch until it threatened to burst the eardrums of anyone within range.

  With a crack of thunder, Skorsdan stood, remade whole, before Gorman Gaultier.

  “How did you…”

  “You are here to stand trial for your crimes against the ‘Kind.” Gorman’s voice was deep and formally loud.

  “Go to Hell, old man. I’ve done nothing but reveal a certain truth you’ve suffered to keep hidden.”

  “Skorsdan, you have been found guilty of endangering our people. You have no say in this verdict, no plea will be recorded, no jury convened.”

  Blue light crackled and leaped between Skorsdan’s fingertips.

  “I’ll beg to differ.”

  Skorsdan raised his hands to Gorman.

  Gorman offered an almost imperceptible nod.

  Instead of the blue energy splashing down upon his foe, it rolled back onto Skorsdan’s arms.

  “What are you doing?” Skorsdan shouted. “No, you can’t…stop. You’ve lied to our people for over a century. What are you afraid of?” The voice issuing from Skorsdan’s mouth was empty of threat and full of fear. He clearly wanted an answer – if only to take to the grave.

  “The history books are wrong. ‘Kind predates man by centuries. We once ruled this planet; but were undone by our very nature. Should the truth of our history be revealed, an unstoppable darkness would befall this planet. I will not allow such a fate.”

  Gorman nodded his head toward Skorsdan and the blue energy consumed the young ‘Kind entirely. Skorsdan’s scream faded into nothing, along with the black orb. Gorman dropped to his knees within the Circulus, his chest heaving, his face dripping sweat.

  “Forgive me,” he whispered.

  When finally Gorman had the energy, he broke the plane of the Circulus with his finger and sighed.

  “The Circulus is broken. No more will come of this.”

  Gorman stood and silently walked from the room. Within his mind and heart, a profound restlessness overtook what little harmony remained. Although the immediate threat to peace had been silenced, he knew the truth would someday emerge to lead the ‘Kind back into darkness.

  twenty-six | vulnerable

  I sat on my porch, waiting for Skorsdan to arrive; phone out, debating a call to Sally. On the off-chance that Skorsdan did actually confront and kill me, Sally deserved to know I adored her. On the other hand…why worry her? I had no fear of Skorsdan; I beat him once before, I could do it again. Besides, knowing Sally, she’d show up on my doorstep and get in the line of fire…or get in line to defend anyone taking a shot at me.

  It was that idea which led me to understand the danger my parents were in.

  Because of me.

  But then...what could I possibly do about that? Run away? Not an option. I had grand designs for my life and a life on the street did nothing but thwart those plans.

  I needed to be elsewhere. At least for the moment, to keep my mom and dad out of harm’s path. I could meet Sally half-way and spend the night in her car – or something. Just as I stood to walk, the ringtone assigned to Babbette sang out.

  Why Can’t I Be You, by The Cure.

  “Hello,” I whispered.

  “Scott,” Babbette’s voice was bereft of the earlier fear. “It’s over.”

  “What’s over? What do you mean?”

  Pause.

  Good news never followed such a pause. Not in my lifetime.

  “Skorsdan is dead.”

  The simple sentence packed layers of meaning I probably would never comprehend. The one I certainty did grasp was no battle royale would come my way. I was safe – at least until the next ‘Skorsdan’ decided it was time for me to pay some unforeseen price.

  “How did it happen?” I asked.

  Silence.

  “Babbette,” I whispered into the phone. The only sound to return was a hushed sob.

  “Are you okay? Babbette, what’s wrong?”

  My entire body tensed. The possibility that I may have to race to Tyler’s End quickly became a reality. I held my breath as the sobs continued. Eventually, Babbette’s voice returned.

  “I don’t know for sure, but I believe it was my father that put an end to his life.”

  “No,” I replied. I didn’t, couldn’t believe it. Yes, the man’s voice alone could instill the fear of death into anyone – but he made it very clear that violence was not a part of the ‘Kind’s past, present, or future.

  “How can you be sure of this, Babbette?”

  “Could I see you, Scott?”

  This time it was my turn to pause. What would Sally think of me s
eeing Babbette in the middle of the night? Just when I thought things were going to become a hell of a lot simpler, my dad’s advice echoed in my head; a ‘rock and a hard place’ parallel I couldn’t recount completely. I got it. In the end, there was only one choice I could make.

  “Yes,” I said softly.

  Babbette said she and Timely would meet me in twenty minutes. Timely was my saving grace. With her along, I would have a witness nothing happened.

  Nothing would happen.

  *

  Guilt is a mad bastard of a beast. Before Babbette and Timely arrived, I decided it was in my best interest to bring Sally into the mix. I didn’t want our relationship to begin mired in lies and unspoken truths. She took the news well, even insisted on joining. I happily accepted her self-imposed invitation and wished her luck sneaking out.

  Somehow, Sally managed to get out and arrive shortly before Babbette and Timely.

  Small miracles.

  Even with the situation at hand, it was nice to be greeted by a kiss.

  “But I thought they were all about peace and getting along?”

  “So did I, Sally. I’ve tried to piece this whole mess together. The only conclusion I can draw is that this has been brewing for a long time. My appearing in Tyler’s End was all that was needed to raise the monster.”

  “Do you think Skorsdan was just a bad seed?”

  I looked at Sally, contemplating the question to the fullest extent of my tired brain. Before I could draw a conclusion, the Aston Martin roared into the driveway. Babbette had yet to grasp the finer points of sneaking out. Both car doors opened simultaneously. Babbette and Timely cautiously approached the porch. It wasn’t until they realized the second body was Sally that their subtle defensive posture eased.

  Sally smiled and waved. Under normal circumstances, that alone would have been enough to brighten and lighten the mood. Both ‘Kind girls failed to pick up on the warmth. Instead they stopped a few feet before us and stared.

  It seemed minutes ticked by before a single word was spoken. It was Babbette that broke the spell of silence.

  “We’ve existed over one hundred years and never before felt the pain of death.”