Darker Than Noir

by Riley, R. Thomas; Zoot, Campbell; Chandler, Randy; Kauwe, Faith

  The two stared at each other as the CSI techs scurried about the scene. Jensen’s phone began to chirp, but she ignored it.

  “Ten kids so far, ages three to eleven,” Blount began. “Their hearts missing and you have no suspects. You’ve only found three of them. The three you had in the morgue have disappeared as well.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Jensen shoved her hand into her coat pocket, pulled out the phone, glanced at the glowing display, and quickly answered.

  Blount stepped aside as Jensen conferred what he already knew with her boss. He let his eyes roam the scene. He’d caught wind of this case back in Seattle. His was a job of the unexplainable, a different stripe of detective. Blount had seen much during his travels and it took a lot to intrigue him. This intrigued the hell out of him; it was his past bubbling up, rearing its ugly head once more.

  He was surprised the locals hadn’t realized the similarities yet. This had happened before, a long time ago, but the strings could be followed, albeit one would have to look to a different century. His initial impression of Detective Jensen was a sharp woman, gifted.

  Blount’s purpose here was to ensure this didn’t get out of hand, minimize the exposure as best he could. Contain the situation. She was back and operating in L.A. It’d been thirty years since she and Blount faced off. Thirty years before that, for the last two hundred years.

  Naturally, much to Blount's dismay, she couldn’t be killed, only contained. Blount’s hair prickled as he felt her eyes on him. He scrutinized the onlookers who inevitably gathered at scenes of human suffering and death, noting the Revenants weaving among the crowd as they sucked up the vibrations of fear, lust, and glee emanating off various people. Blount wasn’t interested in them. They were the carrion eaters of the Underworld and even they had their role in the order of things sometimes.

  A young red head caught his eye. He sucked in a breath as their eyes locked. She smiled and batted her eyes at him, slowly licking her lower lip. Blount moved without thought, rushing toward the crowd. In one fluid motion his hand disappeared beneath his coat, gripping his weapon. Two people moved into his line of sight and the young woman had vanished when he maneuvered around them. He halted, breathing hard, scanning the crowd.

  Blount felt a firm hand grip his shoulder, resisting the urge to turn and plant a fist in the owner’s face. He hated being touched. Even so, Blount forced himself to remain loose.

  He glanced around. Jensen realized something had perked the stranger’s attention and she too scanned the crowd. She saw dejected streetwalkers, looky loos, and bums; nothing warranting the other man’s tense stance.

  “Talk to me,” Jensen prodded. The phone call from her boss confirmed Blount was legit. As Jensen listened to Blount spin his tale she continued to scan the crowd for anyone who seemed to present more than a causal interest in the proceedings.

  When Blount finished, Jensen let the silence between them stretch as she pondered it all. Blount remained silent, content to let Jensen arrive at her own conclusions. He’d given her the barest of facts, slightly disguised, to ensure she realized the seriousness and immediacy of the situation.

  On some level, Jensen was energized, not at the loss of life, but at the prospect of having a serial killer on her radar. Death was everywhere in this town. Jensen had witnessed some of the worst depraved acts while in Homicide, but what Blount said, set her blood boiling. It was one thing for another person to murder; she’d seen that, been there done that, had the blasted T-shirt, for a man to perpetrate these acts on a child. Torture them, gut them, and leave them on the street like discarded trash?

  But a woman?

  That was a new level of evil. Women were supposed to nurture, love, protect, and comfort. Jensen broke the silence, “What’s our next step?”

  Blount crossed his arms as he scanned the crowd. He smiled fleetingly at Jensen’s natural inclusion of him into her case. “Contain this scene. There won’t be much evidence, but I can’t say for certain.” He reached into his coat and produced a card, handing it to Jensen. “Contact me with any information you might uncover. Anything.” He then turned on his heel and marched off.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “To find the bitch,” he flung over his shoulder.

  ***

  She would be working in a candy store, maybe even be the owner, an establishment that specializes in gingerbread . . . the thoughts ran through Blount’s head as he prowled the streets. No matter how hard she tried to conceal her presence and overall actions, there were certain things she needed to perpetrate, almost to the point of obsession. The nocturnal underbelly of the city thrived as he drove aimlessly, scouring for anything that would link her to her M.O. Two hours later, he pulled over and glanced across the street.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he breathed.

  A gaudy sign above the store announced H & G Candy Heaven in vibrant, neon old script.

  A determined rap came at his window and he waved the streetwalker away. She huffed at the rebuff and stalked off, talking angrily into a cell phone, probably pissing and moaning to her pimp.

  Blount pulled a small vial from his coat. The amber liquid within glistened in the glow of the streetlight. He gazed at it for a moment, spun it around a few times with his fingers, then shoved the bottle back into his coat pocket. He checked his weapon, noted possible escape routes, and made a few other well-calculated observations germane to his trade. Satisfied, he turned the car off and made his way across the street.

  The tiny bell above the door jingled as Blount entered the store. The pleasant smell of myriad candied delights assaulted him. He breathed deeply, frowning. Lurking just beneath the sweet smells was something else, something rotten and rancid. Something evil.

  The woman he’d spotted at the crime scene appeared from somewhere in the back of the store. She flashed him a toothy smile. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” she said.

  “Elea,” Blount said, a deep sadness in his voice. “You can’t bring them back.”

  “Oh, but I have, my dear Gibson, I have,” she cackled.

  Something stirred behind Blount and he whirled just in time to avoid the screaming child hurtling for his back, barely managing to raise an arm and grabbing the little demon by the neck. The little girl gnashed and writhed to get at his soft throat, clawing to get a better grip. He stared in horror as he recognized the little girl. Blount stumbled back as pain lanced through his leg as a little boy sank teeth into Blount’s thigh.

  He flung the girl across the room, sending her smashing into a display case. The glass shattered and she moaned, surrounded by fresh cakes, cookies, and shards of bloodied glass. The collision should have killed the girl; she gained her feet, brushing the crimson-streaked glass from her golden locks.

  He ignored her and reached down, grasping the boy by the hair. He yanked and bit back a fresh cry as renewed agony exploded along his leg. The boy fought violently in his grasp, swallowing the jagged section of flesh he’d torn from Blount’s thigh.

  Blount could hear the clatter of the other child rushing him once more. Things were going to crap, heading quickly to FUBAR. This was not what he’d expected to encounter. He took a few precious seconds to locate Elea, glimpsing her retreating from disappearing behind a beaded curtain.

  Blount turned just in time to see the boy disappear quietly behind a display case. The stalk had commenced. He glanced to where the girl last had been—she’d vanished as well.

  The store was quite large and held many aisles. He picked one at random, hurrying down the narrow opening at a crouch. The shelves, a head taller than he, were packed with a plethora of candied product. Blount pulled his weapon, hoping the blessed rounds would be effective against these little demons. He ripped a sleeve from his shirt and managed a makeshift bandage from his injured leg.

  A chorus of giggles drifted across the store. He stiffened as he heard the bell jingle. Detective Jensen’s voice broke the tense silence, “Ag
ent Blount?”

  Perfect.

  Blount hurried to the front of the store, hearing the children mirror his move. He was loath to call out and reveal his location, but if he didn’t voice a warning, the mundane cop wouldn’t stand a chance. The mere sight of the ghoulish children would freeze her with disbelief and horror.

  “Jensen,” he called. “Get out of here! I’ve got it under control.”

  Nikki’s quivering voice cried out. “Oh my God!”

  She’d seen the children. Blount forwent caution and barreled forward, glimpsing the two children crouched at the upper reaches of one of the shelves.

  Blount launched himself towards Jensen as the children leapt, crashing into the detective and they collided into a display. Blount blinked and sucked in a breath.

  Jensen blinked.

  Damn.

  “What the hell?” said Jensen.

  Blount gained his feet and looked around. They were in a thick forest. Massive trees surrounded them and a thin mist covered the ground. “We’re Between,” he said.

  “What?”

  “The world is riddled with holes, so to speak. Just like a house has a space between its walls, so does reality.” Blount reached out, running a hand against the rough bark of a tree. “Elea! Show yourself!”

  His challenge was met with silence. He scanned the woods looking for any movement. Blount reached down and helped Jensen to her feet. She brushed herself off and crossed her arms. “You’d best start explaining what’s going on here and where the hell we are!”

  “This is a When, not a Where,” Blount began. “Elea is a very old, extremely cunning entity.”

  “Look, I’ve seen a lot of weird crap,” Jensen said. “But this is something else. What is she and just what the hell is wrong with those kids? They looked like they’d been ripped apart and sown back together . . . ”

  “That’s because they were,” Blount answered, his voice low. He tensed as he caught movement to his left. He pulled the gun from his coat.

  Jensen did the same. Blount noticed the barrel shaking slightly, but she was holding up better than he’d expected.

  Good.

  He waited but a target failed to reveal itself. Above them Revenants moved about the sky. He holstered his weapon and marked the tree with a knife.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Marking where we entered,” Blount explained. “We can only go back the way we came in.”

  “So this is an alternate reality?”

  Blount glanced at her. Impressed. “Something like that. In Norse mythology they called it Mirkwood.”

  “Like in The Hobbit?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And this woman who’s been snatching kids is some kind of, I dunno, supernatural serial killer?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Look, just level with me,” Nikki said. “I can handle it.”

  Blount sighed and nodded. “A long time ago, Elea had two children. She lived in the woods and minded her own business. She was special, in tune with the Ley Lines, and she could do certain things. As long as she didn’t venture into the town and stayed out of sight, they let her be.”

  “She's a witch?”

  “That's a crude equivalent, yes.”

  “Oh.”

  “Then one day, a couple of children wandered into the forest and disappeared. Naturally, the townspeople blamed Elea for their disappearance. They surrounded her house and demanded she give up the missing children. She insisted her innocence. She was innocent, in fact. She used her powers for good, for healing, for others. Still, they grabbed her own children for leverage . . .”

  “Really? Seems like I’ve heard something like this before . . . oh, like in a fairy tale?” Jensen scoffed.

  “Every story is grounded in reality. One just has to delve deep enough. Those townspeople ended up torturing and killing her children, a boy and a girl, in front of Elea in their effort to find the missing ones.

  “They made her watch. A few days later the two missing children were found hiding in the attic of their parent’s house. They’d hid there because they were afraid of being punished. Distraught over the death of her own children, Elea called upon the attuned power all around her, working a terrible, powerful spell and wiping out the entire town.”

  Tears welled up in Nikki’s eyes as she imagined the horror of losing one’s own children. “But why is she killing children now?”

  “She’s trying to bring back her own. It’s powerful, dark magic. She needs their souls to offer to Ghede.”

  “Ghede?”

  “A voodoo god.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ve stopped the process twice before and I plan on doing it again.”

  ***

  They walked for what seemed like hours as the narrow path wound its way through the dark forest. Jensen hadn’t noticed a change in the light, the trees blotting out any trace of the sky. She’d suggested veering off the path, but Blount told her straying from the path wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t offer an explanation as to why. All she could keep thinking about shortly afterward was The Wizard of Oz. Nikki realized she probably should be more surprised at this turn of events, but she’d been raised to take what life threw at her, plow ahead. Her head was swirling with questions, but Blount wasn’t in a forthcoming mood, so she kept quiet. She focused on getting out of this situation in one piece. She had nothing back in the world that would miss her, other than her cat and an odd bill collector or two. Time felt different here and she sensed that Blount had been at this for a very long time. She didn’t know how she knew this, it was a feeling, and a tangible vibe the mystery man gave off.

  The path forked ahead. Blount paused, studying the two new paths. He’d had a sense they were being followed, but never caught sight of them. He knew they’d be her children, the ones she’d snatched over the years, but they were keeping themselves hidden for the time being, which puzzled him somewhat. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. If she were luring them, he’d feel her tug and know which path to pursue.

  Jensen watched Blount close his eyes and settle his breathing. She scanned the area. She felt like many eyes were on her, her skin prickling in the stillness, but she didn’t see anything in the gloom. She had the sudden desire to take the left hand path. She stepped forward quickly, almost like a hand had nudged her back.

  Blount’s eyes sprang open. “You felt that?”

  Jensen nodded fearfully. “Sure did.”

  Blount walked over to a tree and notched it with his knife. He strode down the left hand path and didn’t pause to see if Jensen followed. She hurried after him.

  Ten minutes passed and the forest began to thin a bit.

  “Oh my God,” she exclaimed as the trees parted and she laid eyes on the house. It was like something directly out of a storybook. The small two-story house, cottage her mind offered, rested in the clearing. Surrounding the house were children, at least three deep. They stared out at Blount and Jensen, still as statues. Jensen didn’t know how many there were, but she’d stopped counting at thirty. The children didn’t acknowledge their presence.

  “My God,” she repeated. “Blount, there’s so many of them.”

  “They’re far from human anymore,” Blount said. He pulled his gun, letting it hang loosely at his side. “Elea, you’ve made your point. Show yourself!”

  The children parted and she walked towards them. She smiled sadly as she studied Blount. She rested a hand on a child on either side of her. They moaned, swaying beneath her caress.

  Jensen sucked in a startled breath. She’d been expecting a repugnant witch, a monster, but what stood before them looked human enough. She appeared as a woman of mid-20s. Though she wasn’t gorgeous by any means, she was pleasant to look at. Her shimmering red hair fluttered about her head as she spoke.

  “Why can’t you just let me have what I desire,” she asked. Her voice carried, softly melodic and soothing.

  “You ca
n’t bring them back, Elea,” Blount said. “What was done to you was horrible and unjust, but what you’re doing is worse. It’s blasphemy. Forbidden,” he finished sadly.

  “Forbidden?” Elea laughed with contempt. “You can stop me as many times as you must, but I will never give up. I want my Hansel and my Gretel back. I want what’s rightfully mine!” She lifted her hands from the children’s heads, motioning towards Blount and Jensen. “Take them, my beautiful children! Take them!”

  The children surged as one around her and charged. Blount raised his gun and fired rapidly. He glanced over as he realized only his weapon had shattered the stillness. “Shoot them!”

  Jensen stood frozen, gun hanging forgotten at her side.

  “Shoot them!”

  The first child reached her, slamming into her knees. She unleashed a strangled cry as she collapsed beneath the sudden weight. The child clawed its way up her legs, planting itself on her chest. Raising her arms instinctively to cover her face, Jensen gasped as the nightmare swiped at her face and neck, long fingernails raking liquid fire across her forearms.

  Blount rushed over and grabbed the child by the scruff of the neck. He choked back bile as the boy’s hair and a sizeable patch of skin came loose in his fist. He sent two more children flying with swift kicks from his heavy steel-toed boots. Reaching down, he grabbed Jensen by the arm. She flew to her feet, limp and in shock.

  Blount looked around gauging his options as the remaining children closed in. The ones he’d shot, tortured souls oozing from their ravaged bodies, were being devoured by the circling Revenants. He saw Elea disappear into the house. He glanced back the way they’d come. He’d never make it back to the path if he had to haul Jensen’s dead weight. For a few brief seconds the thought of leaving her to the little monsters flashed through his mind. He quickly halted that line of thought. He’d be no better than Elea. Jensen was an innocent.

  He hefted her arm over his shoulder and plowed forward, the only real option before him. Blount crashed into the door and Jensen moaned as they collided with the wooden barrier. He laid her down on the floor as gently, but as quickly, as he could. He turned and prepared to fire, but the children had halted their pursuit. They eyed the Revenants with naked fear.