The Serpent and the Light

by Bo Luellen

  Richard gave into the moment as Samuel continued, It is good to be entirely back on this plane of existence. There are specific nuances that you miss. Breathing is overrated, but I did long for the smell of my office. Now, let’s take a walk, shall we?

  Richard watched himself walk over to the ladder and slowly ascend. He could feel the rungs’ rough texture, but his hands didn’t respond to the command. To him, it was like looking through a camera lens that someone else was holding. Nausea began to build as motion sickness sat in, and Richard found he was unable to take deep breaths, as that too was control by the ghost.

  The possessed lawyer crested the top of the ladder and marched out the back door into the east lawn of the estate. Two Hispanic gardeners were rearranging a rock garden that surrounded an antique-looking metal bench. When the workers saw Richard, they stopped their work and stared at the new owner of the Howard Estate.

  Samuel gave them an exuberant, “Buenos Dias, Emilio, Roberto! Por favor, dejame.”

  The gardeners gave a confused look to one another, and then dropped their shovels and walked towards the main house. Samuel sat Richard's body down on the bench and breathed in the crisp cold air. Richard felt like his body was alive with a euphoric sensation that made him feel like he was falling from a great height.

  Samuel looked up at a neighboring tree, remarking, “That feeling of exhilaration you’re experiencing comes from the joining of a spiritual being and a mortal. You need to understand some small degree of what happens to a mortal when a possession takes place. Just like Jekyll, you are at a disadvantage, unable to move freely and all of your memories and associations are an open book to the spirit that occupies your body. Your secrets are mine to know.”

  Richard was taken aback, Impossible!

  The spirit within him spoke, “Your plans to introduce your mistress into the Brotherhood are well crafted. I’m sure Ruby would be a willing concubine to your legacy. Her management of your wife and the conditioning of your sons has been exceptional.”

  Richard’s thoughts were silent in the wake of Samuel’s mind probing. Never before had Richard felt so open and vulnerable, and he felt his confidence wavering. Instead of anxiety and depression, he felt a swell of rage build up at the lack of control.

  The spirit crossed his legs, musing, “There are benefits to the possession, depending on the creature that is inhabiting the mortal. In Jekyll’s case, it’s hard to know for sure. Having a celestial creature, fallen or not, residing inside him could cause amazing and unimaginable things. The transformation you saw him undertake is but a small fraction of the power contained within that body. You, on the other hand, are possessed by a mere ghost, and so you have no such potential. What I can offer is my vision. While I reside inside you, the Veil is lifted, and you can see the Abscondita Est Magicae.”

  Richard came out of his withdrawn state and asked, “Hidden magic?”

  Samuel clapped and cheerfully exclaimed, “Good! Good, my boy! Your Latin isn’t as hopeless as I had feared. Now, let yourself fully relax into the union and stop fighting the fall. Let the warm energy flow around you like a hot bath.”

  Richard did his best to suppress his anger and let himself move into the moment. Slowly, he felt his mindset in step with Samuel’s, and Richard’s breathing seemed more like his own. Even though Samuel was only looking at one spot, Richard was able to examine every corner of his vision with perfect clarity. To Richard, it was as if he was watching a TV screen. The big oak had a scar on the side from what looked like a lightning strike, and its limbs swayed in the cold breeze. He watched for several seconds, and then something caught his eye.

  From within a small blackened crack, he saw something moving,

  What is that? A squirrel?

  Samuel chuckled and replied, “Keep watching, my boy.”

  A few moments later, something furry came out and looked around. It seemed like a chipmunk to Richard at first but then turned around to reveal a humanoid-like face and body. The creature was no bigger than a teacup and had on a fur coat that dragged behind it. Its legs were exposed, and the cold air was whipping its long brown hair from side to side. It put down a miniature bucket that had a leaf sticking out of the top and wiped its face with its sleeve. It wore a beat-up thimble on its head like a helmet, and the creature was dipping the end of a sewing needle into a tiny potion bottle. Richard thought, What in the Hell is that!?

  Samuel took a deep breath and replied, “That would be a Fey. To be specific, it is a type of Fairy called a Wood Sprite. They are one of a multitude of magical creatures that live beyond the Veil. The Fey are powerful beings that leak in from their home dimensions. Humans generally can’t see them, unless they have some trace account of Fey blood in their lineage.”

  Richard shuddered, How would those tiny creatures mate with someone?

  The possessing ghost made a sweeping gesture with his hand and answered, “You’re still thinking too literally. Creatures from other planes of existence that visit our world have abilities that we put into fairy tale books. Still, even those children’s stories pale in comparison to the horrors and wonders those beings are capable of. Over time, all manner of pixies, trolls, gods, and angels have visited this planet. Sometimes they are just curious. Other times they take up residence, and on rare occasions, they consort with humanity. When that happens, the offspring is a powerful being, capable of using their inherited abilities to the fullest extent. Fortunately, beings purely from other worlds are invisible to mankind. They cannot use their full power in our world, as they are not native to it. The magical weave of our Earth is different from their own, and it makes them nearly powerless. As you can imagine, most find this distasteful, and it causes them to return to their own planes. Some creatures make this world their new home regardless, and others are so powerful that their magic functions on our world.”

  As Samuel spoke, the fairy pulled the needle out of the bottle and put a cloth covering over its face and nose. The Fey placed the potion bottle beside the tree, paced outside of the scarred hole in the trunk, and kept the business end of his diminutive weapon out in front of him. Richard watched as the Sprite pulled the cap of an acorn off his belt and strapped it to his left forearm, creating a makeshift shield.

  Richard guessed, It seems like the creature doesn’t like the smell of whatever was in that bottle.

  The possessing ghost replied, “He finished applying a salve onto the burned parts of that great oak and is now preparing to defend it against the reason for his visit. An enemy to the tree’s health has been aggravating the wound, and the Wood Sprite has decided to intervene.”

  Richard was in awe, How will he do that?

  Samuel pointed towards the tiny creature, “The Fey has coated his weapon with a kind of sleeping spell that works as well on untamed animals and creatures who are not of this world. The mask is essential, or those fumes would put him to sleep in a matter of seconds. The Wood Sprites look at the trees as teachers and living libraries. To the unmagical humanity of the earth, or Mundane, as we call them, the trees are simply silent providers of oxygen, the raw material for industry, and fuel for fire. The Fey carry wisdom so vast and ancient that mankind is incapable of understanding how to start unraveling their enigmas.”

  The Wood Sprite jumped to a defensive stance, acorn shield held high, as Samuel exclaimed, “Ah, the contest begins!”

  From the left side of the old oak, a woodpecker swooped in and landed just outside the damaged area next to a hole. The bird began to peck at the burned section of the tree where the Sprite was working. With the grace of a cat, the tiny defender lunged towards its opponent and scared it back a few feet. The woodpecker gripped the trunk with its talons and took on the little Fey. The red-headed bird flashed a series of powerful jabs in an attempt to bury its beak into the chest of the Wood Sprite. With incredible speed and skill, the guardian of the oak deflected each thrust with a parry from its makeshift rapier and its improvised buckler. The animal shook its head in
frustration and performed two fast hops in retreat. As the Fey kept a fencer’s pose of readiness, the frantic movement of the woodpecker stopped, and it swayed lethargically in place. Slowly, the right foot of the attacker lost its hold, and the animal dangled precariously by one leg. The tiny person stabbed its needle into the bark, threw away its damaged acorn shield, as it bolted towards its sparring partner. Effortlessly, it gently pushed the bird onto a branch that was just outside of the damaged section of the tree.

  Richard reeled over what he just witnessed, I’ve never seen anything move like that! The fairy moved so fast, I didn’t even see it stab the bird.

  Samuel stood up and replied, “That’s because it didn’t. The sleep potion rubbed off of the needle and onto the woodpecker’s snout. I’ll admit, it was a clever but risky maneuver. Fairy magic is usually non-lethal, albeit always annoying, and the Fey take extra care to protect the balance in nature. Don’t be fooled by their innocent-looking demeanor or their dedication to the forest and its creatures; they can be deadly to humans under the right circumstances.”

  The winner of the contest picked up its tools and continued its work. It stepped quickly and finished coating the new spots where the woodpecker had cut into. When the job was done, the sprite threw the leaf brush off the edge of the branch, and the blade of grass drifted down towards the ground, with a line of sparkles trailing it. The creature took out a small coil of yarn and wrapped the bird several times, then secured its feet. Stepping in front of the unconscious avian, the Wood Sprite grabbed the animal, as four insect-like wings popped out from its back. With a buzzing sound, the Fey flew through the air, with his prisoner securely in his grip. It darted between branches, and through the frigid air with the precision of a hummingbird. After circling the tree three times, it dived straight into the center of the trunk as the surface rippled like water.

  Richard thought, Where did it go?

  His teacher turned back towards the dilapidated garage and replied, “Who knows. It might have gone somewhere else on the planet, or it perhaps went to Avalon. The workings of the Fey are another example of how alien these denizens of the other realms think. They are unbalanced to human standards and use their magic on impractical endeavors. Still, they do have their small uses. If you capture a Fey, you can make use of them in ritual work or create several different potions from its carcass.”

  Richard had a flash of excitement, Potions? How?

  The possessing spirit put his hands in his pocket as he walked and replied, “It is a simple matter, really. The tough part is tricking the Fey into thinking an animal or plant is in distress. Using convincing bait is always better than trying to hunt one down. After you have the disgusting creature, then you cage it within a circle of binding and starve it to death. It’s a wicked waiting game. They will impersonate family members, try to trick you, but don’t you believe it. If they get free, you’re as good as dead. Just at the hour of its demise, when it’s at its weakest, you offer it freedom in exchange for some of its blood. You’ll know it’s near death when it agrees to those terms. You enter the circle, draw the purple blood from the Fey, and don’t stop until it is dead. To make potions from Fairies, Cthulhu requires their dying drops. We give the creatures the freedom we promised, and we gain an elixir that allows us to become invisible for an hour. As I say, they have their uses.”

  Richard felt confused as he asked, Invisible? You mean totally invisible?

  He was interrupted as he saw one of the gardeners walking along the property line, sporting a pronounced limp. The man was trudging along without a coat on in the freezing cold. He had a ghastly look on his face, and both of his eyes were replaced by empty holes. In his hand, he carried a sickle that looked too ancient to have been useful in maintaining the grounds.

  The possessed man thought, Who is that? What is he doing?

  Samuel kept pacing towards the building and replied, “That, my boy, is Señor Julio Nores. He’s Emilio’s uncle and predecessor as Chief Groundskeeper here at the Estate. As for what he is doing, he is doing exactly what he agreed to.”

  Richard considered coldly, He looks dead, Samuel.

  Samuel stopped in his tracks and gleefully answered, “Oh, he is quite dead. When the Master became our Sect’s new leader, I installed Julio as a security system of sorts. It seemed a prudent move considering the large number of unknowns our new leader brought to the equation. In my long years, I’ve never seen mortals cast the kind of magic the Master was using. I suspect that this Master is not entirely of this world, and when you don’t know the players on the board, you conceal and protect.”

  Richard reeled back at this information thinking, Are you saying your gardener is a zombie guard?

  Samuel laughed, replying, “Is that your only takeaway? Well, no, he isn’t a zombie. That, my boy, is a ghost, the same as me. Just as I did, Señor Nores signed a contract to Cthulhu of his own free will. His task is to patrol my grounds from certain spiritual intruders for all eternity or until I release him. He is limited, but he makes an effective early warning system.” Richard wondered, Who in their right mind would sign such a document?

  Samuel stopped a few feet away from the back door and answered, “One who couldn’t stand to watch his seven-year-old daughter lose any more flesh than she had to. He was strong, though; that is why I picked him. I flayed almost an entire arm off his girl before he agreed to sign. I ended his life with an Athame dagger, such as the one you used on our Henry Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Once death took him, Julio was an eternal guard dog. Oh, don’t think me too much a monster. I allowed his wife, Emila, to live, and I was merciful enough to end his daughter's suffering. I bound the girl's soul to the grounds, and, once a month, he is permitted to see her. His wife was permitted to stay on the grounds, under the condition she signed the same contract. Once she dies, they will be a family again, for all eternity. I’d say that was quite a bargain. A happy worker is a hard worker, I always say.”

  Samuel wheeled Richard’s body around and saw a muscular woman with a blonde flattop power walking towards him. Her hawk-like features were centered directly on him, as she dropped her purse and balled up her fist. He could see the punch coming, but Richard couldn’t move or react. With a sickening crack, her fist plowed into his lower jaw and drove the consciousness from his body.

  An unknown amount of time later, he found his vision again and a splitting headache throbbing in his brain. He was lying on the cold ground just a few feet away from where had been standing and looking up at the mid-thirties blonde, who was standing with a wide stance over his torso. She glared down at him with hatred searing through her eyes and her chest heaving in anger. Richard pulled his hand up to his face and massaged his sore jaw.

  The ghost of Samuel walked up next to the woman and told him, “I don’t believe you two have ever properly met. Allow me to introduce my daughter, Amy Howard.”

  Chapter 12: Amanda III

  Tulsa, OK - Thursday, October 18th, 2018 – 12:02 p.m. CST

  Eve Lanyon shouted from the other end of the phone, “You left him alone!”

  Amanda Lanyon turned her car onto the highway and corrected her mother-in-law, “I didn’t leave him alone. Nancy and April are with him.”

  The older woman spat back at her, “Our Larry has severe lung damage from the foolishness you got him involved in. Now, you leave him with two minors who are scared out of their minds!”

  She sped along the interstate and replied, “Eve, you don’t understand, and I’m not at liberty to share details with you. Just know that we are both helping in an official police investigation and that he saved the lives of two officers. He is a hero.”

  Eve gave a sarcastic laugh and then shot back, “Don’t give me that hero nonsense! It’s all over the news. That blast killed two cops, and our baby boy could have died trying to live up to what you want him to be. He is a father and a husband, and you involve him in something that nearly took him from us! We’re coming over to the house, and I’m taking my
son and grandchildren home with us. At least there I know he will have someone that won’t leave his side!”

  Lanyon rolled her eyes as the older woman hung up the phone on her and thought, Jesus Christ, so much drama. You’d think he was still breastfeeding.

  It had taken her twice as long to get into the hospital parking lot than she had anticipated. The traffic into the area was backed up, as news vehicles, police presence, and the families of those injured or killed had created a bottleneck. She waited in a long line as police checked each vehicle before it was allowed into the hospital parking lot. Amanda used her time listening to the news on YouTube as she waited her turn.

  She stopped at an ABC news stream with Tulsa Chief of Police Blake Kelly, announcing, “This is the largest act of terrorism the city of Tulsa has ever experienced. Right now, we would like to ask the public to stay calm and not to leap into a panic. Our department is currently working with the FBI and other agencies to determine exactly…”

  Amanda went to a channel titled “What They Aren’t Telling You,” with the pointy-nosed host reporting, “This is Quincy Hunt, and this is a special ‘The Hunt for the Truth’ news bulletin. Oklahoma, don’t be fooled by the reports that this was some lone gunman. Henry Jekyll might be a prime suspect, but he is far from alone. My sources say the police have an established task force linking Jekyll to a massive list of murdered or missing people.”

  The professor jumped as a patrolman tapped on her window and asked to see her ID. A few phone calls later, she was identified as a member of Detective Utterson's unit, and her car was searched before she was allowed to pass the checkpoint. As she parked her vehicle, Amanda saw a small group of demonstrators holding signs condemning the explosion as an ungodly act. She squinted at the posters they were carrying and made out: “Trust in Christ! Beware of the Devil!”, “Jekyll is the Devil!” and “Grief Support is waiting at Eastland Worship Center.”