by Derek Adam
Virgil was much more presentable. Cleanly pressed clothing, a waist apron, and small round glasses that seemed to fit perfectly with his silver hair that lay flat on his head as if it were freshly oiled and combed backwards.
The only thing remotely unkempt about Virgil was the great bushy mustache that sat on his face like a monster caterpillar. It made him look old, which was amusing because he was a hell of a lot older even than he looked.
He wouldn’t ever change though; neither would Sutter. Decades would roll by and they’d look the same.
They’d be the same pains in my ass, too.
“Sutter,” I shook my head and closed my eyes, doing a slow five-count in my head to calm myself. “I have also told you… repeatedly… not to call me that.”
“It’s a good lookin’ cock, son. Own it.” Sutter continued to grin at me, his brown eyes twinkling as he rolled the toothpick again.
I put a hand up at him.
“Just… stop, Sutter. What the hell are you guys doing out here anyway? What are you doing with the door?”
They both looked at each other, then Virgil’s gaze wandered to the ground. If he could blush in embarrassment, he’d be bright red. He was wearing a clear mask of shame.
Sutter’s grin grew wider. They both parted, widening the gap between them.
I rolled my eyes as I read the words “Wash my ass, please” that had been drawn artfully into the dirt that coated the white paint of the old truck.
“Just a look-see, huh?” I quirked a brow at Sutter before settling onto Virgil. He was still staring at the ground.
“Virgil, I’m disappointed.”
“Sorry, Luca.”
“Now, Rooster, you can’t blame Virgil. You don’t know he wrote it.”
“Sutter, you don’t know how to read.” I was endlessly annoyed right now. It had taken them decades to learn how to manipulate the world around them, and they were still barely able to do it.
You’d think they would try to do something more constructive when they managed to pull it off.
“I know some words.”
I pointed at the door, Virgil’s gaze rising to follow as he took in his handiwork. “It’s also written in perfect calligraphy.”
Virgil started to smile now.
“That’s not funny.”
Sutter doubled over, letting loud guffaws roll from deep in his belly as he slapped his leg. Plumes of dust burst from the fabric and hung in the air around him.
“I think it’s pretty funny. You’re lucky that’s all they did to it.”
I spun around as I heard Hitch speak, quickly looking back again to see that both Sutter and Virgil were gone.
Not that it mattered. Hitch couldn’t see them; no one could.
Everyone could see the message though. Damn them.
“Kids usually use spray paint around here. Little dust-drawing ain’t no big deal. Nice to see you still get grumpy over silly shit.”
Hitch came up a few paces from me, smirking as he tucked his thumbs into his belt.
Such a dickhead.
It was fitting that he was dressed head to toe in deep brown and khaki, with a wide-brimmed officer hat.
He wasn’t much more than a glitter-flecked turd, that’s for sure. His boots gleamed with a parade polish that closely matched the gleam on his badge.
And his shiny duty belt.
And his annoyingly perfect, glossy-white teeth.
“Yeah well, that’s how we used to roll in town. I guess things don’t change a whole lot over the years.” I ran my hand through my hair, raising my brow as I gave Hitch’s state trooper uniform the onceover – my eyes lingering on the handgun at his side. “You still fucking that tramp?”
“Yeah, I guess things don’t change a whole lot...” Hitch nodded, the brim of his hat bobbing forward.
“You have stupid teeth.”
“Same old Luca.” He smirked at me and sighed, giving in to my attitude with a shrug. “I appreciate you coming. It’s good to see you.”
“Oh, cut the horseshit. You don’t need to come off nice just because you’re Johnny Fuckin’ Public.” I flicked the badge on his chest. I was letting a lot of old shit bubble up despite swearing I wouldn’t let it eat at me. It put me on edge with him.
It didn’t help that I was still a bit pissed at Virgil and Sutter.
Bonus points for not losing their sense of humor after 150 years.
Thoughts were churning as we stood there. I took in his body language; the way he looked at me, the way his thumbs were slung into his belt, his sagged shoulders…
Everything read that he was defeated, worried, and genuinely wanted my help.
For Hitch to stand or carry himself that way rang loud like a church bell. If you knew him like I did, it was the equivalent to a dog rolling over, exposing its belly in submission.
I felt my irritation settle a bit.
Being shitty with him wouldn’t help. He didn’t force me to come here. I could swallow old shit that bothered me in order to handle this.
It’s what was necessary to get that paycheck.
“You got me here, Hitch. Just give me the details so I can get this over with. Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“I can’t let you go up by yourself. You’ll need me to get in. Better you see it than me try to explain, anyway.”
“That’s not how I work, Hitch. I go alone, or I don’t go.”
“You know I can’t let you romp around a scene by yourself.”
Ah, fuck this guy. I didn’t need money that badly. I wasn’t gonna pow wow around with him, giving him opportunities to take shots at me while I worked.
“Good catching up, Hitch.” I snatched my keys from my pocket. “Cheers.”
He put his hands up and stepped around me to block my exit, as I turned to head for the cab of the truck.
“Whoa, alright. Just… fuckin’ hell, Luca. Fine. Go alone. Just let me know everything you find.”
“Now you’re talkin’.” I gave a little victory wink that felt fantastic to fire off at him. He grimaced.
Good. Screw him.
“Let’s have it then. Whatever you found must be some spooky shit if you called me.”
“I called Pastor Jim first.”
I let out an obvious scoff. “Oh, I bet that went well. He’s about as conservative as they come. He’s the last person on the planet that would talk ghost stories with you.”
“Yeah well, I told him about you and wanted his opinion on calling you in.”
“Are you serious? I must have tried a hundred times to talk to him about this stuff.” I liked Pastor Jim. I trusted him, but he never really took me seriously when I was a kid. I shared some stuff with him a few times but I think he was just humoring me because my grandfather was a golden boy in the church. “How’d the old man take it? What’d he say?”
“He said ‘call Luca.’”
Chapter 3 – Emma
I couldn’t tell you who had more attuned senses between us, but Bella was a hell of a lot faster when she wanted to be.
I had led us this far, giving her plenty of opportunity to wander and watch from the grounds around us as we moved south through the forest.
Bella was leading now. This is where she shined.
We could both sense it, but she was barreling far ahead to make sure it was caught. As fast as Bella was, we had still been running for hours trying to catch this thing, cutting a line straight south.
It was at the edge of my senses. I could barely smell it and could just scarcely feel it among the pulse of the forest around us as I crashed along behind Bella.
But she was close enough for me to lock onto.
My shining beacon of husky fur, like a lighthouse in the forest. We had long since left the trail behind and I charged through the heavy brush, making careful footfalls onto downed logs, mossy rock, and outcroppings that rose and fell in the forest floor.
I hated it.
Not for its lack of beauty, or for gr
owing to intertwine itself as if to deliberately slow my path.
But because it required so much damn concentration to focus on Bella, while also reading the pulse of the trees and the ground around me so as not to fall face-first into a ravine.
Bella had slowed and was holding, but I could sense every drop of anger that was rolling up and out of her.
Her growling was too far off to be heard but I felt it like the low rumble of an engine.
She had found it.
She was like a repeater for the senses. Through her I could see it, smell it, and practically taste it on the air.
Hold on, girl.
I could cover ground faster than most, but not quite as fast as her. Thankfully, Bella was staying put, and with every few feet of underbrush that raced by in a blur, the thrum of her essence grew alongside her scent.
The way its scent mingled with hers raised my own anger.
Bella could handle herself, but without knowing exactly what we were dealing with, I didn’t want to chance her biting off more than she could chew, lest she wind up with another mark to match the scar along her stomach.
The thought of that consumed me and drove me harder. It wasn’t long before the brush thinned considerably, and I caught the familiar sight of civilization.
A large single-story cabin stood out in an area of well-manicured grass and dirt. Behind it was a painted landscape of lake and sky.
What stood before it was not quite as picturesque.
Bella was hunkered down, growling, circling in a slow dance with it.
I slowed my pace to walk toward the two, when it took note of me. It rose to its full height as I approached.
Its body was wrapped in bark and it closely resembled an ancient tree, with leaves and vines protruding and snaking up its cracked ashy skin. Limbs were outstretched with long spear-like fingers that were extended like a tree… or a predator ready to attack.
Its hollow eyes, like old broken knots in a tree, had a dull purple glow beneath them. Similar talons of wood extended from its head, like spiraling horns.
I had seen a dryad before. They were protectors of life.
I had never seen one so twisted, tainted by darkness. My purpose here was to track a demon, and that’s what I thought I was chasing.
This… was unexpected.
I extended a hand, palm out toward it as I stepped up next to Bella. She held her defensive posture, the low rumbling growl continuing with her slow and deliberate breathing.
The dryad stood towering over me, and I could feel the hatred spilling from it. The putrid scent of demon was all around us now, catching in my throat.
It leaned toward me, its body creaking like an old tree bending in the wind. It was then I realized how dead quiet it was.
No breeze. No birds. It was like a vacuum, void of sound.
“You are less than I expected.” It spoke, its voice bellowing from somewhere deep within but carrying with it a feminine tone. “Have you come for me?”
“Well, that depends.” I stood with my hands on my hips, drumming my fingers on the beltline of my waist. “I’ve been tracking something that doesn’t belong here.”
“Oh, but I do. With as much purpose as you.”
The dryad stepped toward me, its heavy foot dropping with a tremor like a felled tree. Bella responded with one sharp bark, but I didn’t twitch.
It was a juvenile attempt at a game of flinch. Just the type of thing you would expect from a demon... but not a dryad.
I needed to understand it. Tracking and hunting was my purpose, but I didn’t kill for sport, or follow my orders blindly.
“I’m only here because of you.” I shrugged. I wasn’t certain what it was exactly, but it was demon I smelled and I would treat it as such, and try to play to its vanity, unless it could prove that it was otherwise. “But you’re marvelously unique… what are you?”
It wagged a finger at me before hissing quietly, the sound escaping from its mouth like steam from a wet log on a campfire.
“We”–it corrected me as it inhaled deeply and swelled, as if to pose. Its long arms opened like an embrace and its head tipped to the side–“…have arrived.”
The dryad moved with a speed I’d not seen before or expected, a sweeping arm of razor sharp fingers cutting toward me.
Bella was on it before I could move, locking her jaws onto the side of the branch-like hand and dragging the creature’s swing down before it could strike.
It roared loudly – a shrill cry of anger mingled with pain. Bella dangled from its wooden tendril as it shook her about.
The purple glow in its hollow eye sockets had grown to black and purple tinted fire.
Bella growled and writhed, yanking as she hung from the arm.
I drew a pistol, aiming up at the dryad. That seemed to force a pause.
A low, mocking laughter rose from within it in response to the gun. The dryad looked to the husky on its arm and back to me before stepping forward and reaching with its other massive hand.
I pulled the trigger once.
A sound like a thunderclap broke the silence of the wooded cabin, erupting from the barrel and echoing out across the nearby lake.
The dryad froze momentarily, looking down as it studied the gaping wound through its torso. Its free hand reached for the opening, trembling slightly, touching its long fingers to the edges of the hole that were glowing like embers in a fire.
It hissed quietly again and staggered, stepping hard to catch itself as it lurched backward.
Bella wriggled and yanked again, trying to throw her weight about to drag it down.
I waited for the glow of embers to spread quickly through the rest of its body, like always.
This is typically where a demon crumbled into a smoldering pile of charred… stuff.
It started to regain its balance and lunged. Leaning in to reach for me, it had given Bella back her footing. She did a solid job of using the angle, her strength, and weight to hold it in place.
I saw Bella look to me. That was all the signal I need. This twisted dryad may have been twice my size, nearly the height of a small apple tree, but that also made it an easy target.
With its attention briefly on the husky dangling from its wrist like a charm bracelet, I jumped onto its body and clung to it as I repeatedly pulled the trigger.
Each point-blank shot tore holes through the dryad, sending shards of wood flying as it bellowed and screamed skyward.
What normally took only a single shot to kill took a half-dozen just to bring to the ground.
I straddled it like a fallen log, practically cutting it in two, with several more shots before its massive form grew motionless.
The wounds crackled as red embers mingled with the fading purple fire that sputtered out like a suffocating flame.
The lifeless creature crumbled, disintegrating beneath me, causing me to drop among fleeting black smoke.
Bella stood close, panting. As was I.
She still had her hackles raised and grumbled low as she sniffed at the large pile of charred wood splinters and mulch.
Bella whined quietly as the small triangular ears atop her head tipped forward.
“I don’t know.” I holstered the pistol on my leg and shifted to one knee to run my hands around Bella’s scruff, frowning as I looked around to take in the details of the cabin.
She hadn’t really asked me anything, but I had a feeling she was as confused as I was. Bella was smart, and every dryad we had ever encountered – though rare - had been civil, if not completely friendly.
It wasn’t often that I felt any kind of dread, or discomfort, but it rolled over me now in waves.
“That was a far cry from the information the council gave me.” I lifted Bella’s muzzle and checked around her mouth. Nothing but bits of wood and dirt – she was clean. Her eyes locked with me and I looked from one to the other.
There was something different in her eyes. Fear maybe.
Perhaps less fear, and
more unease.
She knew just as well as I.
That wasn’t demon or dryad; it was something else entirely.
Chapter 4 – Luca
The cabins were a short drive from one another. Fairly secluded, circling Lake Solace. The roads were well tended, but still little more than two-tracks.
The truck got around without too much difficulty.
Hitch had surprised me with the gruesome details of the crime scenes. That was the second surprise.
In the original call, I assumed I was looking into a cozy cabin in the woods, like something out of Evil Dead maybe.
Not four cabins.
The first two looked like a slaughter house. I’m not sure what kind of remains were left originally, but judging by the volume of dried blood, there couldn’t have been much.
Despite all the blood, the markings throughout the inside were still plainly visible. Identical in both cabins.
I had seen stuff like it before, usually kids screwing around or some pagan practitioner fooling around, without really knowing what they were doing.
Just about every time, it was an orgy of random glyphs and sigils. Mostly nonsense.
These were different. Purposeful.
Not to mention, you could practically feel the hate dripping from the walls, like the damn cabins were ready to collapse in on themselves just to consume you.
I was expecting the same when I rolled toward the third cabin.
I was definitely not expecting her.
Rounding the bend of the two-track, the cabin came into view and I dropped my foot hard on the brake. The truck slid to a halt on the hard-packed gravel.
I watched her leap onto that thing as the sound of gunshots rang out, the sound piercing the cab of the truck and making my ears ring as if she’d fired it close to me, despite the distance between us.
She hit the ground as it disappeared into a smoldering pile.
I sat slack-jawed and looked between her and the cabin as she sat there, talking to her dog. In what world would you drive through the woods to check out a possible paranormal disturbance only to roll up on a beautiful woman fighting… with a tree?
My world. That’s where.
I sat there in the truck, staring at her. She was a fair distance but I could still make out most of her features. It was her lithe frame that caught my attention though.
