The Collected Horrors of Tim Wellman

by Tim Wellman

  Allan backed away as the sparks got bigger and hotter, falling to the floor like the flairs from a child's sparkler. But, nothing else was happening.

  "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest," she said.

  Still nothing. She suddenly fell to the floor in a lump as her hair changed to blonde and her blue eyes returned.

  "So?" he said. "Anything?"

  She waited a moment, and then got to her feet. She waited a while longer. "Nothing," she said. "Something isn't right."

  "It's that last part," he said. "I could tell. It all fell apart right after you said that last part."

  "I know, I know," she said. "Dammit!"

  "Why would Jane Austen be a part of a demonic ritual, anyway," he said.

  "It's not her or even her book, it's the way the words fit the situation!" She dusted off her butt and looked around. "The first part worked, though, the room got older."

  "Yeah," he said. "It's that last part."

  Suddenly Izbet's eyes grew larger and she gasped. "What time is it?"

  "It can't be more than around five-thirty," he said as he looked at his watch. "Shit, it's eight-thirty!"

  "Near dark!" She seemed to panic. "The spell, it took more time than it seemed," she said. "I guess because it was an age progression."

  "That means..."

  "I can hear them coming!"

  "Them?!"

  "The ancient ones!" she said. She was genuinely scared. "Lock the door!"

  He quickly turned the blade on the old lock and jiggled the handle to make sure it had fallen into its slot. "This won't hold them, will it?!"

  "Shhhh!" She motioned him back across the room, and then they both slid down the wall and hunkered down side-by-side in a corner. Above them they could hear the heavy footsteps. Their voices boomed like thunder and seemed to rattle the glass in the windows of whatever room they visited.

  "They'll harm you?" Allan whispered.

  She nodded. "But they'll kill you," she said. "Think about how humans treat ants. They treat humans the same way. No talking or reasoning with them; they believe they are so far above you, it's foolish to even acknowledge you as a sentient being."

  He moved closer to Izbet, as if the small girl could protect him. "What are they doing up there?"

  "Searching," she said. "I found the house only a few weeks after Lydia killed herself, but I guess I was careless. They followed me here. The first time... the first time they found me it was bad. They knew how to torture those with less power, they were experts at it. I guess they thought I would never return, so sure of their handiwork. So, I would just hide in the woods when they arrived and they never cared to look for me. They only come here at night, always searching for the spell Lydia had used to screw their masters over."

  "The spell we found," he said. "So, it's useless to even try to fight them? We've lost everything, including your chance to find your soul."

  "But the spell didn't work," she said. "We missed something. They can't kill me, they can only hurt me, so I'll always remember what I know, and even if it takes centuries and a thousand beatings, I'll come back here and keep looking. But you, I got you into this, and..."

  "You said I could go," he said. "This morning. So it was my choice to stay."

  They could hear the basement door open and heavy footsteps come down the stairs. They were in the basement, in the next room with only the old rotted door separating them.

  "It will probably be fast for you," she said. She tried to smile and patted him on the cheek with her little hand. "You would have made a great father. Maybe someday..." She pointed at the door. "They've found us."

  Suddenly the door shook, then shook again. They could hear the deep voices, but Allan couldn't understand the words. The door handle jiggled then the whole door rattled as one of the things pulled harder.

  But something was wrong. They couldn't get in.

  "Izbet, what's going on?" he said in a whisper.

  "I don't know," she said. "They're strong enough to rip that door apart. They know we're here. That's what they were talking about."

  "Then what..."

  "But... maybe they don't know," she said. She hopped up on her knees and pointed at the door. "They just talked about getting through the door, not specifically about getting us." She giggled loudly and smiled. "They don't know! This room is safe! It holds and amplifies magic and blocks the outside world from knowing what the room was used for, so there was enough of Lydia's magic left to keep them from ever getting in here, even though they keep trying! They could never feel the magic remaining in this room! Neither could I! That sneaky old witch!"

  Allan stood up and scratched his head. "Okay, I'm just a stupid human, remember?" He looked away and then snickered. "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest," he said. "They're the final element of the spell!" He bent down and pulled Izbet to her feet. "Get it?!"

  Izbet looked confused, but then a huge smile crossed her lips. "Yes!" She hurried to the magic symbol on the floor and stretched her arms out again. "Kehr mir die Zung im Arss umb!" She was laughing, now, as she floated off the floor. "Marukka Asaruludu Namru Asaruali!"

  The room began to fall apart even more and the door shuttered and shook and suddenly began to crumble. Allan ran back to the back wall and squatted down as several of the ancient demons discovered the weakness and started reaching through the holes in the wood.

  "The small curse on the large one be reversed!" Izbet looked down at Allan and smiled again. "I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I'm the tallest," she said.

  Suddenly huge bolts of light filled the small room, bouncing off the walls, illuminating the space as brightly as the sun, and as the door fell open, the lights seemed to know their mark, and each found the chest of one of the creatures. They all roared and wailed, a horrific sound, as the power lifted them off their huge, malformed feet and burned the number '55' into their chests and then pierced them through. Allan could only watch as the disgusting creatures began to wither, as if all the fluid in their bodies were boiling away, leaving only the dried tissue. Their thunderous voices faded until the only sound was the light crackling through the air as their corpses crumbled.

  And then there was silence. Izbet was still floating in the air, but something had changed. As he watched she seemed to grow, to change, and in only a few seconds, age. She fell to the floor, now an old woman, frail, and not much bigger than she had been as a child.

  "Izbet!" He ran to her and dropped to his knees. "It worked."

  "It worked," she said through cracked and bleeding lips. "Thank you."

  And with that, she closed her blue eyes and began to crumble before him until there was just a silhouette of dust on the floor. But in the center, where her heart would have been, was the blue soul stone she had taken from him. He picked it up and as he held it in his hand, it dissolved and once again became a part of him. He sat down on the floor, stunned, amazed, with a thousand emotions and thoughts spinning around his head. But then, above him, either real or imagined, he heard a young girl's laughter. And then it was silent.

  About A Girl

  She was standing on the edge of the old Cole building with a half-born moon backlighting her. Her long white shift glowed like a bright aura around her and failed its main purpose of hiding the shape of her body underneath. I liked the shape. It was just two stories high, but enough to finish her off if she fell. I could see her toes over the lip of old stone, crumbing bits falling away from her like sparks from a rocket ready to take flight. But birds like her don't fly, they fall... and hit hard.

  It was none of my business, another jilted lover or dope head out of her mind. Still, I was the only witness, I imagined, so I should at least check out the body, see if there was a pulse, maybe. I really wasn't sure what I was doing. Perhaps it was just morbid curiosity.

  She wasn't pretty anymore, maybe she never was, but I grabbed her wrist and squeezed. I thought I felt something, but whatev
er it was, the last few heartbeats, the last jolt of death, disappeared almost instantly. I shouldn't have looked at her face, I guess, but again, I shouldn't have been there at all. I was mistaken; she was pretty, what was left, smooth skin and well-coiffed blonde hair. I figured it was lucky we were mostly in shadow; romantic ideals work best in shadow. "Baby, whatever it was, you can stop running now."

  As I stood up I heard the distinctive and gut-gnawing sound of several police revolver hammers being pulled back. I waited for the usual, "Freeze!", or, "Hands in the air!", but there was nothing. Silence. I decided to put my hands up anyway. I turned slowly to face the blue army I knew had gathered behind me.

  "You boys got it wrong," I said. "I saw her fall and came to see if I could help." I was facing them now, seven of our city's finest. But something was wrong. Yeah, they were there, but seemed frozen in place. "You hear me?" No one moved.

  I shrugged, the international symbol for 'what the fuck?' and slowly lowered my arms. And without warning, they fired, and continued firing. I hit the asphalt alleyway before the second round went off, certain I had been hit seven times. But no. They continued to fire at something else. I turned back toward the girl, and behind her, mostly hidden in shadows, there was something. I can't go beyond that description because the shadows can distort vision and judgment and I was taught exaggeration was just another lie you'd have to keep track of. But whatever it was had the cops practically hypnotized.

  "Marlin!" one yelled. "This way!" The boys knew me, not purposely, but I seemed to hang out around police stations a lot when I was on a case. Yep, private detective, and I know, every two-bit hustler and his mule is a private detective these days. Still doesn't change the fact.

  I scampered across the ground like a chimpanzee or, probably more accurately, a shell-shocked soldier crabbing his way to the relative safety of a foxhole. I stood up beside them and pulled my own revolver, but I couldn't lock in on a solid target. But when the cops had to pause to reload, the thing showed itself. A hideous, hulking shape, deformed in all ways representative of humanity, with long drooping arms, short, squat legs, and overall a leathery red hide except on the top of its head where a great shock of coarse black hair sprang out.

  He moved toward the girl's body, then grabbed her by the arms and in one swift move, slung her over his shoulder. I fired, and continued to fire, six rounds into the beast's back, and at the sickening 'click' of a spent cylinder, the cops rejoined the battle. But the thing wasn't bothered. The bullets, all thirty-eights, pounded into him, but just as quickly the wounds healed over. And in silence, then, we all watched the monster carry the crumpled and crushed corpse into the darker shadows of a cross-alley and disappear into the night.

  "Do we follow?" I said as I reloaded my gun. No one answered. "Guys?"

  "I think I'm going off the clock and hitting the nearest pub," one of them said. The rest seemed to nod, whether it meant they were going to do the same thing or whether they were simply acknowledging a smart idea, I don't know. They all walked away and left me standing there alone. They left so quickly, if not for the spent brass around my feet, I would be tempted to think it was all just an hallucination, someone had, what was it they used to say in the movies, slipped me a mickey.

  There was still a pool of blood on the ground along with other bits and pieces that are usually on the inside of a body and I'm not sure what I was looking for in the effluence. I guess I hoped some clue would just be sitting there for me to find. Well, the setting was right, anyway. So, maybe that was the reason, regardless, there was a clue: a ring with a single key. I picked it up, a hotel key, and the fob proudly displayed Johnson Street Motel, Room Six. She must have been holding it when she jumped.

  I knew the city well, grew up on the lower west side, and knew the exact door that key would fit. I could have dropped it and walked away. I don't know why I didn't. I didn't need another non-paying client, especially one tied up with a beast from hell or wherever that thing called home... I was pretty sure it wasn't room six of the Johnson Street Hotel. But I held the key up, the moonlight caught it just right, and I decided to check the room. It was only a few blocks out of my way.

  ***

  There was an old bum sitting against the wall a couple of doors down. I waited till he finished pissing his pants, and then motioned to him. "You seen a good looking gal coming out of this room lately?"

  He waved his hand, motioning me to get closer and against better judgment and past experience, I walked down the cement porch, littered with broken glass, syringes, half-eaten fast food and used condoms. Nice place. "Ya got a dollar, buddy?"

  "Dollar's hard ta come by these days," I said.

  "So's information," he said with a rotten grin. "Ya see that bottle?" He was pointing at a brown paper bag beside him, the neck of a rot-gut wine bottle sticking out. "Them's even harder to come by."

  Under different circumstances I would have reacted differently but I was scared and tired and the whole damned night was starting to eat into my brain like an unwritten crime novel. I grabbed him around the throat and lifted his scrawny body up and pinned him against the wall. "You seen a pretty woman come out of that room down there?"

  He seemed more willing to answer now. "I seen her, I seen her!" he coughed. I let him go and he slid back down the wall. "She came outa there around two hour ago, I think."

  "Alone?"

  "No, she was with some guy," he said.

  "Black, white, big, small?" I said.

  I done told ya all I seen, so fuck off and let me be," he said. "Ain't no good come from you pokin' around with them."

  "You better keep talking, old man," I said. "I could have gone home an hour ago and forgotten this whole damned thing, but there's something digging at me, now, and I feel like digging back." I kneeled down beside him and grabbed his jaw and turned him around. "Now talk till I say shut up."

  "You a cop?" he said.

  "I ain't shit to you," I said. "Just an innocent bystander at this point."

  "She came out of there and walked out to meet a black van," he said. "She seemed ta know a guy inside 'cause she waved at 'em but I couldn't make 'im out, then the side door slid open and she got in." He paused and looked at me for any reaction. He saw none. "Then ya know what happened?" He started laughing. "The van drove away." He laughed even harder. "But I ain't told ya the good part," he said. "I seen inside that van when the door opened up. Fuckin' monsters in there."

  I stood up and got out my wallet and dropped a ten dollar bill in his lap. "Don't spend that on food, buy more wine," I said.

  "I'm tellin' ya, they was monsters," he said.

  I nodded my head and walked away. "I believe you," I said. "Seen one myself a bit earlier." I heard him struggling to get up and stumble his way off the porch and into the night as I reached the door of Room Six. I wasn't sure if I wanted to open the door, wasn't really sure why I was doing anything. Maybe it was something I liked about the girl as she stood up on the ledge, like an angel from some old story my mother used to read me, or maybe it really was just morbid curiosity like looking at pictures of car crash victims; or maybe, though I wouldn't have picked it from the three options, there was something else, something to do with the supernatural, that was forcing me to act. I put the key in the lock and turned it.

  No matter what I was expecting, I didn't find it. The room was as bland and normal as any other cheap-assed hotel in that part of town. There was a bed with coarse cotton sheets, an old upholstered chair, probably bright blue at one time before a million cigarettes yellowed it to a dull green. There was an old beat-up veneered table sitting at an angle in the corner with a black and white TV playing some old Bogart movie when the reception was clear; when it wasn't, a porn movie piped in from the main office vied for screen time. An old battered dresser completed the suite.

  I fingered through a few dresses draped across the bed, far too posh and expensive for such a shit hole. A pair of sexy see-thru panties and a bra apparently belonging to
the same owner, plotted a perfect dinner date for someone, but I guessed that was now going to be table for one. I started to look around the room, but I whirled around instinctively, and without thought or intention, my gun was in my hand and aimed. She seemed even more startled than I was, but then I wasn't naked.

  "You gonna shoot me?" she said. She knew I wasn't and continued to walk to the bed and pulled on her panties. "Getting so a girl can't take a shower around here without getting something big and hard pointed at her."

  I got the joke but I didn't laugh. "You rooming with another girl, dollface?" I said. "About your size but prettier."

  "Dollface?" she said. The way she smirked annoyed me. "Why not just call me a dame and compliment me on my nice gams?"

  "I would if they were good enough to mention," I said.

  She laughed out loud and nodded her head. "I like you," she said. She picked up her bra and put her arms through the straps and turned her back to me. "Do me, will ya?"

  I gave the straps a tug and snapped the clasps together and watched her pull her dress over her head and let it fall down her body. "You look better in clothes," I said.

  "Everyone does except porn stars and teenagers," she said. She walked to the mirror over the old dresser and fluffed up her still-damp hair. "So, ya gonna tell me why you broke in here?"

  "I didn't break in," I said and dangled the key on my finger. She looked at my reflection in the mirror. "You know Susan?"

  I started to tell her we'd met, but that wasn't completely true. "What's she to you?" I wasn't giving anything up until I knew who the woman was and just how much she knew about the monsters. But at least I had a name to put to the broken corpse.

  "We were lovers," she said. "Shock you?"