Eater of Souls

by Erik Lynd

  "I did catch up to the car, I almost had them," he growled. "But then I was thrown from the car and into another vehicle. By the time I was able to follow again, they had disappeared. Whoever was driving knows the streets well. I went from rooftop to rooftop, but I had lost them."

  "How could you fail at this simple task? How can you lose them? Can't you track him now that you’ve tasted his soul?" she yelled. She knew she sounded out of control, but this was a disaster. She needed the boy dead as soon as possible.

  "I can. Even as they disappeared, I could taste the meat of his soul on my tongue. But it will take time, and if he keeps moving, even longer. I thought it best to tell you what I know first. Besides, there were a lot of potential witnesses on the street. I had thought to kill him inside his home. I knew that you would not like such a disturbance, so I fled as soon as possible." he said.

  She wanted to hit him, to beat and gouge at him. But that was not her way. Sometimes she hated her way. She reached out and gently touched his chest. Even hunched over in shame, his face was a little too far for her to reach comfortably. "You might have disappointed me in not killing him, but it was right for you to leave before the mortals understood what they were seeing."

  He looked up at her touch, and she was certain that if he had a tail it would have wagged. "These friends of his, were they the same as the ones at your first encounter?"

  "The demoness was there, I could see her. I did not see the driver. It could be the same man."

  She nodded and then paced away in thought. She was quiet a long time as she thought through different scenarios. Tracking the hunter would take time, too much, she suspected. Golyat would be on her in seconds once he suspected she had not succeeded. For all she knew, he was on his way back to her home at this moment, although she doubted he had been able to place spies within her own household. They needed to draw him out, they needed bait. But the only bait she knew of was with him.

  "Wait. The hunter is young," she said. She had the beginnings of an idea. Of all the escaped souls she had met since she had won her own freedom, only she had retained such an understanding of mortal emotions. She no longer suffered from them, but it was her gift to be able to manipulate them to her desire.

  "Hardly more than a boy. I am disgusted I was unable to dispatch him easily," Ammit said.

  "Mortals are weak and quite often stupid, especially the young. This Hunter is something of an idealist, I believe. His father was a crusader. I wonder if he instilled any of his philosophies in his offspring."

  "I see you have a plan. What is it you wish of me mistress?" Ammit asked.

  "Begin hunting for him, but at the same time we can draw him out," she said.

  "How?"

  "Simple. Leave a pile of bodies up to his doorstep. Do what you are best at, kill and eat souls of the innocent. Not too many, maybe just one or two a night. Just enough let him know who it is that is doing it. If I understand our young man, he will come looking for you."

  Ammit's muzzle-mouth spread into a toothy grin that would have caused any mortal to void their bowels on the spot. But Anabelle found it endearing. "With extreme pleasure mistress," Ammit said, drool already oozing from his mouth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Christopher arrived at the Library it was with his best landing yet. He only stumbled a few steps rather than falling face first into the stone. After catching himself on a stone bookcase, he waited a moment for the disorienting vertigo to fade before looking around.

  The long hallway and tall stacks of books that made up this section of the Library seemed to be deserted. He could smell the surprisingly comforting fragrance of dusty stone mixed with the faint scent of ancient parchments. He thought he might have gotten the jump on the Librarian for once. The tall, shadowy figure was nowhere to be found. Perhaps Christopher could even sneak up on him for a change. His excitement at the prospect was short lived, however.

  "Welcome, oh Great Condemner of the Sinful,” the Librarian said from just behind him.

  Christopher jumped forward and almost slammed into a large, solid looking shelf. It seemed to him that the Librarian had said that a little louder than necessary.

  "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," Christopher said.

  "I am not Jesus Christ, and I believe he would prefer to have nothing to do with our little operation. Conflict of interest," said the Librarian.

  "Yeah, I bet. Have you found anything?"

  The Librarian spun on his heels, if he had any—the dark robe hid his feet, and floated off down the hallway. "Come," he said as though Christopher was an afterthought.

  After only a moment’s hesitation Christopher followed after. He wasn't sure how this inter-dimensional library thing worked, but if he was somehow supposed to be the Librarian's boss, the guy sure as Hell didn't act like it.

  "Did you find a way to defeat the werehound?" Christopher asked as they made their way deeper into the stacks. The Librarian seemed to be ignoring him.

  Suddenly, the rows of shelves opened up to the familiar study area in the middle of the stacks. A long leather couch and several comfortable looking lounge chairs dominated the room, as well as a coffee table and a large desk covered with papers and old books. A fireplace with a large wooden mantle was set in one wall. While the study area looked the same as it had when he saw it before, the shelves that surrounded it looked older, it was obviously in a different section of the Library. Without the Librarian to lead he would never be able to find his way around in here.

  "No," the Librarian said.

  It had taken him so long to answer that Christopher had almost forgotten that he’d asked a question. His heart suddenly sank. He dropped into the most comfortable chair he could find with a defeated sigh.

  "Great. I don't have much time before that thing comes after me again. You were right, it can hunt me down. We got away, but next time... well this might be the last time you see me."

  "I said I did not find a way to defeat the werehound, but I did not say I found nothing of use."

  Christopher looked up, pulling himself out of the pit of hopelessness he felt himself falling into.

  "I may have found a lead. Tenuous at best, but something," the Librarian said and paused. The Librarian might be a metaphor or something, but Christopher had to admit he had a flare for the dramatic. "I had hoped to find more, but it appears my access to the assignment room is more limited than I expected. Soon after you left, I found it harder and harder to stay in that room. Eventually, I found myself outside the door."

  "And that lead is?" Christopher asked.

  "He had a house," the Librarian said.

  "Who?" Christopher was confused even more than he usually was when talking to the Librarian.

  "Who do you think? The Beast of course," the Librarian said with a sigh. "Try to keep up."

  "He had a house?" This threw Christopher off. The thing he had met in the boiler room in the basement of his university did not seem like the type that needed a house, or sleep for that matter. But perhaps even the Devil incarnate needed some shut eye from time to time.

  "Well, house might be too grand a term, more like a lair," the Librarian said. "In fact, I believe he had several, all over the world."

  "Why? I mean did he even sleep?"

  "I don't know about sleep, but as for the why, it appears even the Beast needed a home base, somewhere to heal wounds after a tough battle. Someplace to plan his next move."

  "I wouldn't have thought any battle was tough for that dude. But I thought this library was a sort of home base?"

  "The Library? As I have said before, this was not a Library for him. The way he accessed the information in the Book was completely different and much more efficient than any mortal mind,” the Librarian said. "Also, as you are aware, you leave your body behind unprotected when you come here. Not a very intelligent tactic, I would think."

  "But how is this a lead? What does this have to do with defeating a werehound?"

 
; Christopher thought the Librarian shrugged, but it was hard to tell with the shadows draped about him.

  "I don't know if it will help, but there may be something there that might help."

  "Great. What? Do I go to his apartment and look through his fridge? Maybe he'll have a coffee table book on how to tame a hellhound?"

  "Well, for starters it is not an average apartment, and there will most likely be more interesting stuff to look at than what he kept in the fridge. But if sarcasm is your best coping mechanism, please by all means, continue," the Librarian said.

  Sarcasm was a coping mechanism for him? Christopher thought.

  "The closest one," the Librarian continued, "is located under the Bronx zoo."

  "Under the Bronx zoo?" That caught Christopher by surprise.

  "Yes. I believe that is close to your current location?"

  "But how can that be? I mean, wouldn't somebody have found it by now? Like workers at the zoo, or security, or someone?"

  "Does it shock you that the lord of lies and obfuscation could hide something as radically complex as a door?"

  "I guess not, just seems like there would be a lot of people around, and it’s such a public place. Not my first choice for a lair for someone whose job it is to track down and kill escapees from Hell," Christopher said.

  "Well, you are the Hunter now, you can put your lair anywhere you want. But this one was the abode of your predecessor and might have some clues that will help you fill his rather large shoes."

  "I thought I was doing okay so far, at least until the werehound showed up," Christopher said. He knew it sounded defensive, but he was getting tired of being picked on. He had defeated a powerful dark soul and at least kept himself alive in the last two encounters with his latest adversary.

  "Yes, you are doing well for a mortal child," the Librarian said as he stepped closer, looming over Christopher. "But the Beast would have brought the hellhound to heel the moment he saw it. It would be whimpering at his feet, not serving another dark soul. And the Beast would have banished the dark soul sharing its body back to Hell by now. You have much to learn before you are even a tenth of his power."

  Christopher had sunk into the chair as much as he could as the Librarian had come closer. For a moment he thought the tall being was going to strike him. But the Librarian just stood there for a moment as though waiting for something. Then he sighed.

  "But as I have said before, you are what we have to work with."

  Christopher had the distinct feeling he was missing something.

  "The entrance to the Beast's lair is in the Bronx River Park on the south side of the zoo, near Jungle World," the Librarian said. He stepped back from Christopher.

  "What does it look like, the entrance, I mean?" Christopher asked.

  "I don't know."

  "You don't know? How am I supposed to find it? Is there a sign on it that says: Lair of Satan's Assistant?"

  "I doubt it is even a door, at least not in the traditional sense," the Librarian said once again unfazed by Christopher's sarcasm. Sometimes he wondered why he even tried.

  "So, I need to find a door that is not a door, hidden by what you basically said was the world’s best deceiver, leading to an underground room under the zoo? Why does my life seem to get so much more complicated when I come to see you?"

  "Oh, I suspect things will get even more complicated. Just think, you have only been the Devil's avatar for a few weeks, wait until you have centuries under your belt. Although, I'd say at the moment odds are, you won't have to worry about that," said the Librarian.

  "Hey, I think..."

  "I would imagine that the Beast must have used some sort of Hell power to help hide the door. I suspect you, as his successor, might be the one most able to find it."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Christopher woke with a start. It seemed even his returns from the Library to the real world were traumatic in some way. At least he was always sitting or lying down so falling on his face was not an issue. In this case he was lying down. He sat up slowly, letting the residual vertigo fade away.

  Eris sat across from him, concern on her face.

  "How'd it go?" She asked.

  "Not much to go on, but something."

  He heard a crash and then a string of curses from the other room.

  Eris smiled. "Hamlin is trying to cook spaghetti. But I'm not sure he knows how to make anything that doesn't come frozen in a box."

  Christopher returned her smile. It felt good, he hadn't stretched those muscles in a while. "Then we should go check on him before he burns the place down."

  In the kitchen Hamlin was indeed making pasta. The smell filled the apartment and made Christopher's stomach grumble.

  "Ah! Just in time," Hamlin said as they came out of the bedroom. "Dinner is served."

  "Is he wearing an apron?" Christopher asked into Eris' ear. She nodded with a giggle.

  "You know we could have just gotten take out," Christopher said, this time loud enough for Hamlin to hear.

  "Nonsense, and miss out on my old family recipe?"

  "But you’re not Italian," Christopher said.

  "Not to mention I saw the jars of sauce in the bag you brought home from the grocery," Eris said.

  "Okay, you got me," Hamlin said and held up his hands. "It's just that we have been eating out a lot lately, and I thought a home cooked meal would, you know, boost morale."

  "Kind of like a final meal?" Christopher asked and immediately regretted it.

  Eris jabbed him in the gut. Hamlin looked down a little.

  "I'm sorry, Hamlin," Christopher said. "Pasta sounds great and the smell is killing me."

  Hamlin's faint smile returned, albeit a little more subdued. "You may call it pasta, but for me, it is good old spaghetti and meatballs."

  As they dished up their plates and ate, they kept the conversation light as though they could all sense they needed a respite from the mounting tension. Eris was smiling more than she had in the past week. Even Hamlin seemed a little more relaxed, his constantly cynical edge dulled just a little bit. Hamlin didn't ask what he had found out at the Library, and Christopher didn't mention it. As dangerous as waiting was, they needed some time.

  All too soon however, the tension broke back into their world. The light heartedness began to feel a little forced. Christopher could see Hamlin was straining not to ask questions about their next steps. It was time to talk about a plan.

  "We need to finish up, I have a field trip planned for us," Christopher tried one last attempt to keep the feeling going. "We’re heading to the zoo."

  Hamlin choked a little on his pasta. "The zoo?"

  Christopher quickly filled them in on what the Librarian told him. They seemed to be as concerned it was a wild goose chase as he was.

  "At this point I don't see anything else to try," Christopher said.

  "Why the zoo?" Eris asked.

  Christopher shrugged.

  "It makes some sense I guess. Empty at night, when he was probably most active. I doubt the animals would have bothered him. Probably lots of service tunnels and utility rooms underground," Hamlin said. "Besides, what better place for a Beast than under other beasts?"

  Hamlin's phone rang. After a glance at it he said, "I have to take this. It's work." He stood up and walked a little way away.

  Ten minutes later he came back into the room, and Christopher knew there was something wrong the moment he saw his face. Even his aura looked slightly weaker, almost defeated.

  "They found two more bodies," he said. His former good cheer was gone. His tone was dry, Hamlin the jaded detective was back.

  "You mean... from the werehound?" Eris asked.

  But Christopher knew the answer. He got up from the table and looked out the window at the street below. Some kids were playing down there, riding their bikes. Others had chalk and were drawing pictures on the sidewalk. A few adults were out, sitting on their porch steps, watching the kids play. He saw nothing suspicious,
no monster slinking through the afternoon shadows. The shifting colors of the kid’s auras were not pure by any means, but they all still had a touch of innocence. Most of the darkness of their souls was imposed on them by their parents. It all seemed very normal. He dreamed of normal now-a-days.

  "Yeah, same MO." Hamlin said. "Torn apart like fresh meat, very little actual flesh eaten."

  "It is not meat he is looking for he finds his nourishment in deeper things," Christopher said quietly from near the window.

  "Jesus,” Eris said. "More homeless victims?"

  "No," Hamlin said and almost fell into a chair. "One was a school teacher, the other a mechanic."

  "Is that significant? Or are they just random victims?" Christopher asked.

  "Well, regardless of the value you put on a human life, the first two victims were a homeless person and small time business owner with no family. The reality is that not many people will pay attention. You start having victims that have families and co-workers—people that will be missed—well, that ups the visibility. The press looks at it more closely, and people start to talk," Hamlin said. "What we don't know is if it was intentional or not. Maybe this thing just got too hungry to wait for you."

  "No, I know why," Christopher said. "It’s trying to draw me out."

  "No. You don't know that," Eris said.

  "Yes. Yes, I do. It can't hunt me fast enough, so it is doing what it thinks will draw me out. They are making sure I notice. Whoever is controlling it has sped up their timeline and doesn't want to wait for me."

  "And we still have no idea what their end game is, or what the actual timeline is," Hamlin said.

  "What we do know is that innocent people are dying because of me," Christopher said. He was still watching the children in the streets. They were already thinning out as each left for dinner, most likely.

  "Bullshit, kid. Don't get all teary-eyed and melancholy. This ain't some movie, and you ain't up for an Oscar. They are dying because one of those dark souls released a monster on the city, pure and simple. You didn't ask for this."