by Rain Oxford
* * *
Dylan and Ron split from Mordon and Hail to cover more ground. Dylan knocked on the door of the first house they came to and was surprised when a kid answered. AJ was a fifth-grader Dylan had treated for a broken arm when the boy insisted on skateboarding in the school parking lot. Fortunately, he was only lightly hit by a car.
“Doctor, what are you doing here?” AJ asked.
Dylan knew most people called him by his title instead of Yatunus because everyone thought they were mispronouncing it even when he told them they weren’t. “Is your dad here?”
AJ nodded and moved out of the way of the door. “Dad! The doctor is here to see you!”
A man in his early fifties stepped out of the kitchen and motioned towards the couch with a spatula. “Come on in! I’ll be right out.”
Dylan sat on the couch and studied the Christmas tree with only three presents under it. Ron sat next to him, trying to ignore AJ. Ron could be very peculiar about other students at school, probably because he was raised on Shomodii, where he was miles away from the neighbors. Apparently, AJ was in Ron’s “out” club.
“What can I do you for?” Lincoln asked as he joined them in the living room.
“We’re asking around about some thefts because there have been reports of gifts going missing. Know anything about it?”
Lincoln nodded. “Yep. Ours vanished, too.”
“Not all of them, though?” Ron asked, indicating the presents.
“No, all of the presents disappeared. We got more, but that’s all I could afford after spending almost all our money on the first ones. I really would like some time in a room alone with the one who’s been taken all the kids’ presents.”
Dylan understood. He wasn’t going to pound on someone, but he wanted the one responsible for kidnapping the kids to suffer. He wasn’t interested in hitting, because he had so many better ways to torture the culprit. “At least they’re nice-looking,” he pointed out, not that it helped.
“Those are from Sylvester’s Toys, right?” Ron asked Lincoln.
“Yeah.”
“What’s that?” Dylan asked.
“There’s a new toy store in town,” Ron said. “They seemed kind of rundown to me, not to mention dusty. The guy didn’t even turn on the lights until we went in.”
“I went down to the store to buy some more presents and they were closed,” Lincoln said. “So, Kyla down the street suggested we go to Sylvester’s.”
AJ glanced between Dylan and his father nervously. “The guy who took all the toys, could he be---”
“AJ, hush!” Lincoln admonished, cutting his son off.
“What about him?” Ron asked.
“It’s nothing,” Lincoln said. “AJ had a nightmare and thinks he heard something in his closet. That was the night the presents went missing, so he thinks a monster took them.”
“Do you mind if I take a look?” Dylan asked, standing.
Lincoln frowned. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“It’ll either prove to your son there isn’t anything in there or to you that there is.”
Lincoln pointed down the hall and Dylan ventured into the child’s bedroom. Ron was right behind him. They flipped on the light. There was a chair wedged against the closet door, which they moved aside, then opened the door. The entire inside of the door was covered in long, deep scratches.
* * *
Devon woke very suddenly, and was very blind. Although the blindfold over his eyes was a hindrance, it was the cloth in his mouth that made him gag. It tasted foul and was obviously dirty, for the taste made its way up the back of his throat until it was all he could smell. He couldn’t identify it. That was probably a good thing.
He knew very well what the situation was; he had been knocked out during his vision, tied to a chair, and was to be tortured with the horrendous gag. He tried to reach out with his magic to find the minds around him, but instead suffered a swift and sharp pain in his head. The harder he tried to use his magic, the worse the pain grew.
He recognized this; Vincent had showed him how to contain a person’s power using sigils in a circle. Vincent had showed him by using it on him. He was in one such circle, and he knew that if it was the same one he had been taught, fighting was futile. The sigils created a transfer of energy from the circle to the caster. That meant the more magic and energy he exerted, the more he was giving to his enemy.
But the worst part was that it was also absorbing the power of his scorpion healing charm. He tried desperately to calm himself. He focused on his breathing and pictured sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a coffee. He soaked in the quietness that surrounded him as if it were peace.
Vincent said he would have about two hours in one of these circles before the scorpion was “dead.” And then… so was he. How long was I out?
* * *
Mordon knocked on the third door and sighed when there was no answer, just like at the previous two houses. Hail kicked the door. “Why do we have to be out here when no one is even home? I’m hungry!”
Mordon pulled him away from the door. “I know, but the diner is closed and we don’t have time to go home to make you something. Your friends are missing.”
Hail pouted, but Mordon knew he really was trying to control himself. “I’m just hungry!”
Mordon started to roll his eyes only to catch himself in time. It was a contagious habit. He was about move on to the fourth house when he heard a scream and took off running for it. They arrived at a house and Hail opened the door, easily breaking the lock. Inside, a couple was sheltering a very small child on the couch between them. In front of them was a creature that would terrify most people. Instinctively, Mordon drew on the fire inside him.
The creature was about five feet tall with long, thin arms and had green and brown, scaly, slimy skin. Instead of a face, it had what looked like the skull of a canine, with white, spherical eyes. Mordon wished more than ever that he didn’t have his dragon’s advanced senses. Even Rojan shuddered in his mind from the scent of rotting flesh that emanated from the creature.
Rotting flesh and… peppermint?
It raised one of its long arms to strike at the family with its sharp claws. Mordon was faster, blasting a stream of his hottest fire, which could melt most metals.
The creature raised its head amidst the flames and made a sharp, husky noise that was almost a choking sound. It wasn’t in pain, though; the creature was laughing. Then, suddenly, it lunged at Mordon. Mordon grabbed Hail and dove out of the way, allowing the creature to vanish through the open door. By the time he got back to his feet and reached the door, the creature had taken off into the night by huge wings.
It was still on fire.
* * *
Devon tried to find a sharp edge on the chair to rub the duct tape against. His assailant had done a good enough job with the binding that Devon was losing feeling in his fingers. Once again, he tried to use his magic and only received pain. He was calm for the moment so as to not stress his heart.
Until my time runs out.
Way to stay calm.
“It won’t be long now,” a sinister, hissing voice said, disturbing the silence. The gag was finally removed from Devon’s mouth and he immediately tried to spit out the foul taste. “What have you done with my salominius?”
“Your whatsit?”
The unseen stranger struck Devon across the face. “Don’t play dumb. You or one of your friends took my salominius and I want it back.”
“What does it look like?” He was slapped again. “Damn it! Stop that! How would I know who took it if I don’t know what it looks like or what it does?”
“It looks like a very small gift box! What it does is none of your business.”
“Really? Because I think I’m tied to a chair right now and that makes whatever you’re after very much my business. Let me guess; you’re Sylvester? Going by the magic you’re using to restrain my power, I’m also guessing you enchanted your t
oys to steal all the children in order to absorb their life energy. How am I doing? Getting warm?”
It was very easy to antagonize an enemy he couldn’t see. He heard the distinct sound of a match being lit and then felt a sharp burn on his right thigh for several seconds before the flame went out.
“Yep, that would be warm,” Devon said. He really hoped his jeans weren’t flammable. “Are the kids dead?”
“Not yet. Soon, though. Very soon.”
“What about the chimney monster? How does---”
The cloth was shoved back into his mouth, but Devon managed to bite down on several fingers, causing Sylvester to shout. He was struck hard again and suddenly smelled gasoline. “Keep it up. I don’t need you.”
Devon heard a bell ring from somewhere in a room above him and Sylvester fell silent. Instead of feeling relief, Devon’s instincts warned him that things were about to go from bad to worse.
* * *
Mordon arrived at the store at the same time as Dylan. “What did you find out?” Dylan asked.
“Nothing, except I found the creature that has been attacking people from their chimneys, attics, and closets. It took off in the sky, so I’m a few minutes behind, but I tracked it here. What about you?”
“I talked to Lincoln over on Fourth Street. The original presents he put under the tree were stolen. He went to buy more, but the general store was closed. Guess where he bought more presents.”
“From Sylvester’s Toys.” Mordon stared at the dolls in the window.
“Right. How much do you want to bet we find similar stories if we ask around? The creature you tracked must have been going around and destroying presents in order to get people to buy from Sylvester.”
Which is a really weird purpose for a monster, Rojan remarked.
“What’s the plan then?” Mordon asked.
“We go in and talked to Sylvester. If he’s not in a talkative mood, we’ll have to persuade him.”
“Yay!” Ron said excitedly. “Bloodshed and crying! This is going to be fun!”
“It’s dark. Can’t we come back tomorrow?” Hail asked.
Mordon knew the kid was afraid of the dark. To be honest, after seeing what he had on Earth, he couldn’t blame Hail. “More children will probably go missing if we don’t stop it now,” Mordon argued.
“Besides, we can burn the place down if it gets ugly,” Dylan said easily. Both Dylan and Ron occasionally had very creepy, almost psychotic moments.
“Where is Devon?” Ron asked. “He would want to be here.”
“Well, he’s not. We don’t have time to wait for him,” Dylan said, opening the door. They went inside. Although the sign said the store was open, the lights were dimmed. “Anyone here?”
An old man came out of the back, flipped on a light switch, and smiled. “How can I help you?”
“Are you Sylvester?” Dylan said.
“No, that’s his brother. Sylvester wasn’t here last time,” Ron said.
The old man smiled kindly at the boys. “Well, hello again, boys! It’s good to see repeat customers.”
Instinctively, Mordon sniffed at the air. The man was kind and moral, but someone of great darkness frequented the shop; someone with a sour, rotting scent, similar to that of the fireproof creature, but it was more humanoid. Before he could tell Dylan what he smelled, he caught another scent.
“Devon has been in here.”
“You must be referring to the man who was here about an hour and a half ago.”
“Big man with brown hair and green eyes? He was wearing a leather jacket?”
“Yes, and he had a gun,” the man said happily.
Mordon sniffed again, looking for anything suggesting that the man was unstable, but he couldn’t smell much over the scent of the death. “Where is he?” Mordon asked.
Something is very wrong here, Rojan warned him.
I know. The last scent, which was growing to overcome everything else, was gasoline.
“Oh, he asked to speak to Sylvester and decided to wait for Sylvester to return. When my brother got here, they went out back to talk.”
Dylan looked at Mordon expectantly. He wanted to know if the man was telling the truth. “There is gasoline somewhere and I can’t smell this guy over it,” he said in Dylan’s mind.
Dylan turned to the old man. “Your toys are turning into monsters and kidnapping children. How do we stop them?”
The old man’s eyes widened. “Oh, goodness. That sounds dangerous. You should speak to Sylvester. I bet he can help you. He should be back by now. In fact, I believe I heard him go downstairs about ten minutes ago.”
As the scent of gasoline became strong enough for a human to detect, Dylan coughed and covered his mouth with the collar of his black sweater.
“What is that?” Ron asked, mimicking his father.
“Gasoline,” Mordon answered.
“We could just blow the place up,” Dylan suggested.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” the old man said calmly, as if they weren’t talking about destroying his property. “You should really talk to Sylvester.”
“Whoa,” Hail said, stumbling. Ron caught him. “We’re about to get attacked. Also, Devon is downstairs.”
Mordon went around the counter, passed the old man, and opened the door to the basement marked private. Since his senses were muddled by the gasoline, he didn’t know what was waiting behind the door. As soon as he opened it, the nonflammable creature he faced before burst out, slamming him against the wall. Its claws sliced through his chest, but it was more interested in the getting away than finishing the job.
Except the creature didn’t go for the door; it went for Dylan. Mordon let Rojan take over as his fingers changed into claws and his teeth sharpened. He lunged at the creature and threw it to the floor, but he wasn’t about to bite the foul-smelling beast. Instead, he clawed at it, tearing into its chest. The creature became slimier until Mordon couldn’t stand touching it another instant. He pulled away and the creature shot back into the basement.
Mordon started to go after it, but Hail grabbed his arm. “We need to go.”
“You said Devon is down there.”
“We lost today. We need to go.”
Mordon wanted to argue, but Dylan picked up Ron and exited the shop. Mordon wasn’t going to leave his brother alone when he wasn’t sure that creature wasn’t going to attack again.
* * *
Hail knew his family didn’t understand. Hell, he didn’t understand. All he knew was that Devon was like him; a seer. He could feel Mordon’s eyes on him in the car. Mordon thinks I’m a coward. He had to get them out. More than saving Devon, they had to save the kids, and Devon had told him what he needed to do. What confused him was that Devon hadn’t actually said anything. Somehow, his seer powers and Devon’s created some psychic… future link.
“Sylvester needs a box. Devon doesn’t know what it does or what it’s for, but Sylvester was very mad that it was gone. Apparently, he thought someone stole it.”
“You talked to Devon?” Ron asked.
“No. I don’t think so. It’s confusing. The box looks like a very small gift box. We need to find it. Either that will help us save the kids, or we can use it to blackmail Sylvester.”
“A very small gift box? Like the one on your desk at home?”
* * *
Lisa lifted the lid of her large present just enough to peek inside. A clown doll? That’s what grandma got me? She wasn’t afraid of clowns or dolls, but it was really creepy. Oh, well. It would go in the closet like all the other weird toys her grandma got her. It wasn’t very Christmas-y, either.
Her mother entered the room. “Time for bed.”
Lisa groaned and whined, like any ten-year-old would, before relenting. She knew that the faster she went to sleep, the faster Christmas would come. Unfortunately, she was too excited to sleep.
After almost an hour, she finally started to nod off, only to jerk awake when she heard the door c
reak open. Light spilled across her bed and she closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. She didn’t want her mother to know she was still awake. But the door didn’t close, and when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t her mother watching her.
“You’re the doll from my present,” Lisa said to the clown in her doorway. The clown was six feet tall and it was frowning, not smiling, so Lisa was confused. Lethargy clouded her mind and all she wanted to do was go to sleep, but the clown reached out its hand. Lisa didn’t know why she sat up and took its hand. She didn’t know why she let the clown lead her into the living room.
Chapter 5
By the time they made it back to their apartment, it was snowing. Ron grabbed the box as soon as they entered, took it into the kitchen, set it down on the table, and started getting leftovers out of the fridge. Everyone else gathered around the table.
“Do we open it?” Hail asked.
“Toys have been coming alive and attacking kids,” Mordon said. “I think we should find out what it does first.”
“It can’t be a very big monster,” Ron said, considering the tiny box as he set a plate of spaghetti in front of Hail. “Maybe we should step on it.”
Hail shook his head. “It could be the only way we get everyone back alive.”
“Alive? You don’t think they’re already dead?”
“No, I think they’re stuck somewhere alone in the dark and they’re going to be eaten.”
“You had a vision?” Dylan asked. Hail nodded. “Do you know when they’re going to die?”
“Christmas.”
Dylan checked the clock over the door. “That’s in three hours. I’m going to flash to Devon. Where’s my sword?”
“No, you can’t,” Hail said.
“Why are we leaving him there to die? I thought we generally tried to save people,” Dylan said, looking at Mordon. “Isn’t that what we do?”
“We’re too late to save him. We have to find the kids. Please trust me.”
