Eville’s Most Wanted
By
Holand Peterson
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s warped imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, human, goblin or otherwise, is entirely coincidental. Really.
All text, the “Eville” logo, and front and back artwork are copyright 2012 Holand Peterson.
WWW.HolandPeterson.Com
Dear Friends,
Wow. It’s hard to believe that book two of the Eville saga is complete. I began initial work on the manuscript January of 2011, completing almost precisely one year later, January 2012. The end result is composed of a heck of a lot of blood, sweat and tears, a dash of second guessing, a pile of insecurity and numerous anxious episodes- you know, the usual. Will the people who enjoyed book one dig it…or be totally disappointed? What if the whole thing is a colossal misfire? My wife will happily tell you how I drive her up the wall upon the completion of each project, my neuroses running wild like a rabid goblin hopped up on Kool-Aid. The sight is even scarier than it sounds. Anyway, all is complete, what’s done is done, and I am as pleased with the end result as I can possibly be. I’ve done some different things with the narrative compared to book one, in addition to adding a number of fun surprises (well, I think they’re fun), so I’m excited to hear what you guys think. As always, feel free to pass along your thoughts.
Once more, I need to send a big thank you to my wife Cheri who so patiently puts up with all my lunacy, never complaining about my insane efforts to write, including all of the ups and downs that come with this choice. I could never do it without her support.
Finally, in the off chance that you’ve never read book one, I ask that you stop right here and check out Eville to begin with. Most Wanted is a direct continuation of the saga, and without knowing these characters and the events leading up to the start of this volume, I can’t imagine anybody being able to appreciate the continuing story.
Thanks for all of your support and interest. I had a lot of fun with Most Wanted, and I sincerely hope you will too.
Holand
March 2012
Chapter 1- Wanted
His long shadow danced on the smooth stone floor, warping and twisting as the crackling fire popped and sizzled within the ornate marble hearth. He stood adjacent to a tall window, looking out upon a pine covered forest several stories below. It was a calm night outside, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, and the clear sky offered a fine canopy of stars above. In his right hand was a wide, beautiful crystal goblet, filled nearly to the brim with a thick, burgundy liquid. His pale hand rocked the goblet from side to side gently, swirling the contents dangerously close to the spilling point. Peering down into the drink thoughtfully, his piercing brown eyes burned with overwhelmed and anxious thought. Turning away from the window, his eyes nervously traced the magnificent paintings lining the walls, the beautiful bronze nudes, delicate vases, and other expensive decor carefully displayed about the room, not so much to admire their astonishing beauty, but to distract his busy thoughts.
He was a strikingly handsome man, tall and fit. Every brown hair upon his head was set precisely in its place, eyebrows perfectly arched, a chiseled face impossibly smooth and free of blemishes- even if its unusually pale tone took on an ever-so-slight taint of sickliness. The man clothed himself in an immaculate charcoal gray suit, made of the finest material, and tailored to the infinitesimally exact measurements of his impressive frame. The short fingernails on his hands were delicately manicured, shiny and clean, and upon the ring finger of his right hand was a ring set with three large, triangular rubies.
With an anxious sigh the man stepped away from the window and sat in a large, black leather chair positioned near the fireplace. He set his goblet upon a low table before him, and lifted from its surface a newspaper. The intelligent brown eyes bored deeply into the picture on the front page, searching, questioning. The image that had so ensnared his attention was that of three exceptionally peculiar people standing before an egg-shaped device less than two feet tall. To the left of the device was a small female hunchback, her entire demeanor suggesting a loathing for all things. To the right was a short, thin young man, sporting a goofy smile, his face covered in bruises, his nose bandaged. In the center of the photo, behind the unusual egg, stood a tall, thin woman dressed in black, a wild, almost maniacal look in her large, black eyes. The man continued studying the picture in the paper for many long minutes, his eyes moving back and forth between these three weirdos and the egg placed before them.
A soft rap on the door at long last wrenched the man’s stare from the paper, and he stirred uneasily in his seat. “Enter,” he replied curtly, in a smooth voice.
A man entered the room and quietly shut the door behind him. “Sir,” he said with a bow. This new figure was also strikingly attractive, with wavy black hair, dark eyes, and equally smooth and pale skin. He was clothed in a fine black suit, and upon his right hand was a ring with a single triangular ruby.
“You bring news?” the seated man asked.
“Yes, sir.”
With a wave of the folded newspaper, the seated man motioned the newcomer to sit in the chair opposite him. “Tell me what you have learned, Emil.” His tone of voice made it sound as though he were not entirely eager to hear the report, as though he waited for an expected disappointment to be flung upon him.
“Information coming out of Eville has been limited and confused at best, Lord Constantine. The town’s power and communications were down for some time following the incident, and since their restoration have remained highly unstable. I have, however, been able to confirm with one of our contacts in the region that a gateway to the Mortuus Plane had- at least for several hours- been undeniably opened.”
“How much of this information has become known to the public?” Constantine asked. While his voice remained calm and perfectly collected, the man’s brown eyes exploded with intensity, and his pale fingers clenched the arms of the leather chair excitedly.
“Naturally, everyone knows something unnatural occurred in Eville the other night. As mighty as they may believe themselves to be, not even the long arm of the Union of Eternal Lords can conceal the fact that the sky was blotted out over a large radius, and that there were many hundreds of rotting aberrations in the town square. I do believe, however, that the UEL has managed to keep most of the details obscured. From what I gather, the official story being promoted is that Necrosia’s energy experiment simply backfired, creating a less than desirable —and temporary — effect on the atmosphere and local fauna. Any references to the Mortuus Plane have been wholly stricken from the record, and I have no doubt that the beasts’ carcasses have already been disposed of, leaving no opportunity for curious minds to examine them more closely.”
“And what of the Necrosia woman?”
“No word as of yet. She must have either known well enough to skip town before the light of day, or someone tipped her off, because she was long gone by the time authorities arrived at her residence.”
“I take it the UEL has dispatched their “bloodhound” in response?” Constantine asked with a smirk.
“Yes, sir. I am told that he is en route to Eville as we speak.”
Lord Constantine lifted his goblet from the table, got up from his chair, and walked to the crackling fire, licking his lips thoughtfully. His penetrating eyes remained fixed on the twisting flames, while he slowly lifted the goblet to his lips and took a long, measured sip. “All these many years…” he began in a soft voice, still focused on the blaze. “So much expense…so many brilliant minds working in secret to uncover the key the
UEL have kept locked away so well. Failure after costly failure. And now, who of all people stumbles upon the gateway to unimaginable hell itself? None other than Serene Necrosia. The irony is positively epic. At last the pieces are coming together. I tell you now, Emile, the UEL dog shall not find her before we do,” he said abruptly, his voice becoming louder and commanding.
“No, sir. I have already dispatched all resources on the North American continent to focus their attention solely on the search for Necrosia. She won’t get far. I promise you that.”
“Send word to our people. Let them know that any who fail me will be dealt with personally. I have waited far too long to allow this gift to slip through my fingers. I will not, however, tolerate indiscretion. I do not want to arouse the suspicion of any other faction...and especially that of the other houses. With any luck the rest of the world will actually believe the UEL’s fabrication and remain unaware of the woman’s true discovery.”
“Very good, sir. They will be instructed to operate with the utmost discretion. It shall be done.”
“What do you know of this man?” Constantine asked, turning away from the fire, and nodding toward the newspaper. “The so called “Lead Creative Director” on her device?”
“He remains something of an enigma, my lord. Reports indicate he arrived nary a week before the incident. What is more, my contacts claim that he was brought over from the ‘other side.’”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I don’t believe it either, sir. Something about this story doesn’t add up. Unfortunately, this is the information I am being given, whether it is accurate or not.”
“Whatever the facts may be, this Alex Hobbs could prove useful,” Constantine said, thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “I should prefer to err on the side of caution. Advise your men that neither he nor the inventor are to be harmed under pain of death. I need them brought before me alive. All other associates of Necrosia’s are of no concern to me. We must move swiftly, Emile. It may very well be hundreds of years, if not thousands, before another discovers Lovecraft’s secret. We cannot allow this opportunity to slip us by.”
“I fully understand, my lord.”
“The moment Necrosia is secured I shall announce to all Houses that the power of the Mortuus Plane is within our grasp. This revelation will effectively grant House Constantine more leverage than all other Houses combined. And with this power in hand, the rest of the world will be brought quivering to their knees. Every single living soul upon this world shall know House Constantine, and they will whisper the name with awe and trembling,” he added with a sinister smile, revealing two sharp, white fangs.
“As you wish, my lord,” Emile said, rising from his chair and bowing, before walking toward the door.
“Emile?”
“Sir?”
“Contact Luminita and pull her away from her current task, regardless of what or where that may be. She shall be dispatched to Eville immediately to assist in the hunt. I shall need her skills now more than ever before.”
“Yes, my lord.” Emile bowed once more and exited the room.
Constantine lifted the paper again, studying the faces before him, but now with a confident, cruel look in his eyes. His pawns had been sent forth to do his bidding. His queen would reach the board shortly. It was only a matter of time before his prey would be in his clutches, and in a few short moves he would have his checkmate.
Chapter 2- The Open Road
Traveling fast along a smooth stretch of rural highway was a most unusual sight. To begin with, it wasn’t exactly common to witness a pristine 1938 Rolls Royce Wraith screaming down the road, starkly contrasted against the endless fields of farmland and grazing cattle on either side. The vehicle’s implausible route, however, was much less bizarre than the motley group of passengers within. Moody sat behind the wheel, staring blankly at the never-ending road before her, eyes bulging and bloodshot from exhaustion. In the seat next to her Marco the brain rested motionless in his tank of water, ever leery of Dante the spider whom he hoped fervently was locked securely in the cage placed on the floorboard. In the back seat Serene excitedly soaked in the scenery, behaving like a giddy tourist, frequently leaning out or lifting herself up in the seat to marvel at the world passing her by. Next to her, slumped in his frustration and misery, was Alex, wearing an expression of alarm and embarrassment.
“Damn it, Serene!” Alex groaned, reaching over and pulling the woman back into her seat. “I thought we were supposed to be maintaining a low profile!”
“We are, dear boy. Now try to relax. We’re on holiday, remember?”
“Relax? Relax? Serene, because of your irresponsible lunacy we’re the most wanted individuals in Eville. And where are we right now, with who knows how many people looking for us? We’re traveling on a U.S. interstate in broad freaking daylight! And to top it all off you have the gall to actually wave at every freaking car that passes by! Naturally, that can in no way be construed as drawing attention to us.”
“You worry far too much, darling. It’s called hiding in plain sight. Always a profoundly effective strategy. Have a little faith, my boy. You act as though I’ve never found myself in a tight scrape before.”
“Now that I can believe.” Alex sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Fear not, the Eville authorities will never think to search for us on a scenic road deep within the ‘other side.’ Right now they’re no doubt tearing through my mansion and combing every inch of the countryside surrounding Eville, pulling their hair in frustration. We are far, far removed from danger at the moment. And as for my admirers ….” she said with a smile, waving regally at a bewildered family passing in the opposite direction in a brown station wagon.
“They aren’t admirers, Serene,” Alex interrupted, grabbing the woman’s wrist. “Every single ’normal‘ family that has been unfortunate enough to pass us has been staring at us — and deservedly so — like we’re a pack of escapees from the loony bin, reaching frantically to make sure that all the doors on their cars are locked.”
“Nonsense, dear boy! With such expressions of awe I imagine they believe us to be people of great importance. Those…what do you call them? Ah, movie stars. Surely, they have been overwhelmed by my smoldering sexuality and incomparable majesty. And who else but the beautiful elite could be traveling in such luxury?” The inventor waved her hands about the Rolls Royce with pride.
“Um, movie stars take regular baths, you nut job. And I’m rather confident that ’smoldering sexuality’ and being covered in the crap that spews out of dying space squids don’t go hand in hand. Which, by the way, reminds me how god-awful it smells in here…even with the top down!”
“Bah! It’s all part of the adventure! Think of what grand memories this will create. Oh, I wish I had my camera! Quasimoody, make a note that we need to acquire a camera as soon as possible!” Serene yelled out to the front seat. “Far too many precious memories are passing us by which should be documented for posterity. Anyway, we’ll clean up first chance we get.”
“And here’s another thing: What about Moody?” he asked with concern.
“What about Quasimoody?” Serene asked back with a confused expression.
“She’s been driving for something like eleven hours nonstop, except for the times when we’ve refueled and used the facilities. Altogether she probably hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours. The poor thing has to be positively dead beat. I feel like death warmed over and I haven’t done a bit of the driving. I can’t imagine how she feels. We need to find someplace quiet to get some rest.”
“Pish posh! Quasimoody is perfectly fine! Isn’t that right, my dear?” Serene asked, leaning forward toward the driver.
“Go to hell, you damned crazy harpy!” the hunchback barked, glancing back at Serene in the rearview mirror, a crazy glimmer in her green eyes, lips mumbling insults and profanities.
“See?” Serene replied with confidence. “Quasimoody is as lively as ever! She’s still got a few hundre
d miles left in her yet! Not to worry. Ah, what a glorious day! It has been so many long years since I have looked upon the fascinatingly primitive world you ‘Othersiders’ call home. I must say the current vehicular designs are ludicrous! They’re all so small and flimsy in their appearance…and the art of alluring design has clearly been long lost in your society. Whatever happened to the good old days, when one’s chariot struck fear and awe into the pathetic masses?”
Alex turned his head and ignored Serene’s pointless ramblings, focusing his attention on the lazy cows grazing peacefully in the distance. Poor things were as content as can be, meandering about the fields, sleepily munching their cud. If they only knew that in a short while they would be the main attraction at someone’s steak dinner. He couldn’t help but feel an odd kinship. Alex was just like them a week ago, blissfully unaware that by taking this job for Serene he was in fact signing his death warrant.
“Whatever is the matter, dear boy?” Serene asked. “You look positively dreadful. I thought we would have moved beyond all this unnecessary melancholy by now.”
“You know, I can probably count on one hand how many late library book fees I’ve had in my life,” Alex said quietly, still gazing at the scenery.
Serene peered at him with a bemused expression. “What the devil are you on about?”
“I’ve never taken drugs. Never stolen anything. I have no record whatsoever with the police. I paid my taxes on time every year. You know, I always tried to work hard and do the right thing.”
“Yes, darling, you’re the model of virtue.”
“And here I’ve been with you about one week, one freaking week, and somehow, despite my efforts to lead a life of decency, I find myself being accused of serving as the creative head behind your death machine, responsible for the deaths of seventeen, and held accountable for God knows how much damage to Eville. And instead of being able to tell the people in charge the truth, which is that I have had nothing to do with any of this horrible crap, I am forced instead to evade the authorities like a criminal.”
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