Boston Metaphysical Society

by M. Holly-Rosing

  Granville paced around the stoop then checked the time again. Something had gone wrong. It was his fault he had sent those men to face the demon without enough weapons to kill it. Granville packed away the bow and the quiver of arrows, threw them on his back, and jogged back toward Harrison Street.

  Checking each manhole in case he missed them, he slowed as he approached the thoroughfare. He leaned against the side of a building, hiding in the shadows. Granville peeked around the corner and saw two police officers strolling toward him on his side of the street. He ducked back into the shadows and waited until they passed, grateful there was no one else out at this late hour.

  The closest manhole entrance to where they had met was across Harrison Street and up a block. If Samuel and Andrew had run into trouble, that was the fastest way to reach them. Granville crouched waiting for the police to get far enough away so he could run across without being seen. If he had not been carrying weapons, he would not be worried about it, but they would insist on opening his bag. He had never been arrested and did not want this to be the first time.

  Granville was just about to dash across the street when he heard a scream echo through the buildings. It pierced the air like a wild animal clutching at the last bit of life. Granville ran across the street without thinking where the policemen were. He knew they would have heard it too, but he needed to get there first.

  Granville rushed along the block aware he was a Negro man carrying a weapon. If he found Samuel, Andrew or anyone else dead, the authorities would blame him, but he could not turn back. Granville had brought those two men in to help him and Liberty Row. He refused to leave them to die.

  He pushed himself until his chest ached; his throat tightened. The bow jabbed him in the back through the bag, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep going.

  Granville ran around a corner to see Andrew bloodied and unconscious on the ground next to a stoop while Samuel kept the demon at bay with the electrified staff he had given him. What horrified Granville the most was that the demon held a delivery man over his head like a sack of grain. Skewered through his chest and his groin by the demon’s claws, the man hung limp and lifeless. Blood trickled down the demon’s arms and body, pooling at its feet. The creature roared in triumph as it threw the body at Samuel hitting him full-on in the chest. The detective crashed to the ground, his howl of pain muffled by the deliveryman’s body.

  Without wasting another moment, Granville yanked the bow and arrows from his bag, nocked one, and took aim.

  “Stop!” a male voice yelled out from behind him. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”

  Granville glanced behind him and saw the two policemen from before aiming their guns at him. They were not as powerful as many of the weapons he had designed, but they could still kill.

  “Don’t be a damn fool! Look!” Granville shouted at them as he gestured to the demon in front of him.

  No longer caring if it was visible or not, the creature roared at them in defiance. The policemen looked past Granville and saw a living, breathing nightmare.

  They fired.

  Infuriated, the demon leapt over Granville, knocking him to the ground and sending the bow flying out of his hands. It then pounced on the officers, slashing and cutting their bodies to bits.

  Granville scrambled to grab the bow, hoping to get a shot in before it killed the coppers, but he was too late. The creature had slit their throats.

  He clutched the bow and arrow to his chest as he rolled over then staggered to his feet.

  “Duck!” Samuel yelled at him while throwing the electrified staff into the back of the demon.

  Granville slammed himself face first on to the ground as the enraged creature leapt over him and headed toward Samuel.

  The detective had shoved the dead delivery man off himself and now was trying to pry the other electric staff out from underneath the man’s body. “Run!” he cried out at Granville. “Get out of here!”

  The demon lurched over to Samuel and Andrew, salivating over the prospect of their deaths.

  Bruised and shaking, Granville fumbled with the bow as he staggered to stand up. He found the arrow nearby, grabbed it, and nocked it.

  The creature loomed over Samuel ready to strike.

  Granville raised the bow and aimed. “Get down!” He fired.

  Samuel threw himself over Andrew’s body as the arrow flew toward its mark.

  The demon turned just in time to see the shaft of the arrow explode and deploy the netting which encased it, propelling its body backward into a basement stairway. The netting sparked, whined, and burst into flames around the edges.

  Granville ran over to the stairway while drawing another arrow, preparing to fire again. He looked down from the sidewalk and saw the demon struggling against the netting. It shrieked in fury and agony, but the voltage on the netting was too much for it. After a long moment it stopped moving. Granville waited before lowering the bow, wanting to make sure it was dead. Much to his dismay, the demon disintegrated before his eyes. All hope of testing its skin and learning more about it disappeared without a trace.

  Granville heard a noise behind him and swung the bow around to face Samuel half-carrying Andrew, who used his electric staff as a crutch.

  “We need to leave.” Samuel’s eyes bored into him. “We need to leave now. My buggy isn’t too far from here.”

  Granville nodded then grabbed what remained of the netting. As he ran back up he saw lights going on in a few of the homes and heard voices approaching. He took one last look around and saw the blood-bath the demon had left in its wake deciding Samuel was right, they needed to go.

  The scientist hurried after the detective and the Medium as they led the way.

  SAMUEL SHOOK GRANVILLE AWAKE THE following morning. He had slept on an extra cot they had found buried in the back of the warehouse. Andrew was still nursing his injured leg, so Samuel had taken it upon himself to make tea and pull together breakfast. A famished Granville sat up and took the tea Samuel offered him.

  “Thank you again for saving our lives last night.” Samuel grimaced after he took a sip and he realized he’d forgotten to add sugar to his tea.

  “You were right. I should have given you the bow and arrows to begin with.” Granville shook his head in disgust at himself. “Then you wouldn’t have been in that position in the first place.”

  “You be wrong about that, Mr. Woods,” Andrew chimed in. “Things went to hell in a hand-basket down in them tunnels. There be no time to use it.”

  “He’s right,” Samuel agreed. “This was a three-man job.”

  “Well.” Granville took a sip of his tea, forcing himself not to spit it out once he had a taste. “I’m glad the demon is dead.” He put the tea cup on a small table. “But I should be heading home. If you could take me as far as Harrison Street, I’d be much obliged.”

  Samuel and Andrew glanced at each other.

  “About that. What do you think about working with us on a regular basis? We could certainly use your expertise. And you handled yourself well in a nasty situation.”

  “What you want are my weapons.” Granville looked him straight in the eye. “I wouldn’t do it just for you. What do I get out of it?”

  Samuel glared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Besides killing demons? I imagine that workshop of yours is expensive. I’ve got money and I can supply you with almost anything you need.”

  “Really?” Granville’s eyebrows rose as he gestured around the Spartan room. “This isn’t exactly the peak of luxury.”

  Andrew chuckled. “Mr. Woods, sir. Not everything is as it seems.”

  “You can move in here. Use as much of the warehouse as you need for a workshop, storage, experiments, whatever you want. Except….” Samuel paused. “Your first priorities are building weapons. Anything else is secondary.”

  “And what about Liberty Row?” Granville asked.

  “They will get whatever they need,” Samuel replied. “Demon killer or just a regular detective.
” He gestured to Andrew. “And a first-rate Medium.”

  Granville stood up and considered the proposition. “I have to think about it. Now, if you would take me home, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Take your time.” Samuel nodded. “Let me know either way.”

  GRACE THREW HERSELF AT GRANVILLE when he returned home. She cried and berated him at the same time. When she stopped yelling at him long enough to notice the way he looked and smelled, that set her off on another rant.

  Sarah giggled and held her nose at her unkempt uncle.

  Randall smiled and shook his hand.

  After a long, hot bath and luxuriating in clean clothes, Granville set off to his workshop. He noticed the tenor of the house had changed. Some second cousins of Randall’s, around Sarah’s age, had come over to play; laughter and the sound of running echoed up the staircase. Women’s voices murmured in the kitchen, giving a sense of serenity he had not felt in a long time. He saw Randall skipping up the stairs until he caught sight of Granville. Embarrassed, Randall gave him a serious look, but he failed. The man was just too damn happy.

  “Granville, I’d like your permission to marry your sister,” Randall blurted out.

  “What does she say about it?”

  Randall dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a ring box. He opened it to reveal a small, but very elegant diamond ring. “Hopefully, yes. It’s not too much, is it? The ring, I mean.”

  Granville nodded in approval. “I think it’ll be just fine.” He turned to walk up the stairs, but Randall touched his arm.

  “I have a favor to ask.” he looked sheepish.

  “Other than asking for my sister’s hand in marriage?” Granville teased him.

  “My sister, May. She and her husband and children are down south. Near Charlotte.” His face grew serious. “Life hasn’t been good for them there, and I’d like to move them to Boston, but….”

  “You don’t have anywhere for them to stay,” Granville finished his sentence. “And you want them to live here.”

  “Just for a while. Until they get settled. It’s just you have so much room here….”

  Granville heard his sister laugh and leaned over the banister to look into the living room. Sarah played with her new friends, and Grace looked happier than he had seen her in ages. She glanced up and waved at Randall and gave Granville a big grin. He realized that she needed to care of her own family. That no matter how much he loved her, he was holding her back from having a life of her own. It was time for him to go.

  He shook Randall’s hand and smiled. “Of course. I think that would be a wonderful idea.”

  Randall shook Granville’s hand, then bolted down the stairs.

  Granville continued on to his workshop, pondering how in the world he was going to pack and move all of his things.

  SAMUEL STROLLED ACROSS THE WHARF, trying to dispel the malaise that haunted him. He was surprised when he saw two large horse-drawn wagons right outside the warehouse. Negro men busied themselves with unloading while sailors walking by either gave them a wide berth or stopped and stared. Granville was easy to spot among the working men wearing his usual immaculate suit. Andrew chatted with the scientist while directing the workers on where to take Granville’s equipment.

  It appeared the scientist had agreed to his proposal.

  This should have made him happy, but instead it gave Samuel a sense of foreboding. Forces were gathering both within the world as he knew it and an evil one that hovered just beyond it. The two men in front of him would be his partners in a war he knew was coming. Samuel hoped he would not fail them.

  Madeleine Holly-Rosing is a graduate of the UCLA MFA Program in Screenwriting where she won the Sloan Fellowship for screenwriting as well as other awards. She has also won the Gold Aurora and Bronze Telly for a PSA she wrote and which was produced by Women In Film.

  Her comic Boston Metaphysical Society was nominated for Best Comic/Graphic Novel at the 2014 Geekie Awards and was nominated for a 2012 Airship Award as well as a 2013 and a 2014 Steampunk Chronicle Reader’s Choice Award. Her novella, Steampunk Rat, was also nominated for a 2013 Steampunk Chronicle Reader’s Choice Award.

  Formerly a nationally ranked epeé fencer, she has competed nationally and internationally. She is an avid reader of steampunk, science fiction, fantasy and historical military fiction.

  Madeleine lives with her rocket scientist husband, David and two rescue dogs: Ripley and Bishop.

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