by Hunter Blain
After a few moments, he returned with some paper towels, Elmer’s Glue, and a smile.
My eyes kept switching between the glue and him; I made sure to convey my annoyance visually.
“It was the only adhesive we had, John,” he explained as if telling a child why he had to wear the pink Band-Aid.
“Why do we even have Elmer’s Glue? Did you make me a popsicle stick house for my birthday?” I mocked.
“One of us purchased the item in question. Would you like to guess as to whom that was? A five-inch ang—”
“Faerie,” I interrupted.
He continued, “Or a mostly average-looking blood bag able to walk among humans without causing a commotion.” He looked at me with eyes that accused as much as any finger could have.
After some dabbing of the excess blood and pinching my forehead together, he was able to get the glue to keep the wound closed.
I stood and walked to the bathroom, flipped on the light, and stared into the mirror. The hardening white glue was lying horizontally across my forehead and dripping down a little.
“I look like Ben Stiller just said, ‘There’s something about John.’”
“Your power of illustration never ceases to amaze me,” he sarcastically replied.
“I read at a fourth-grade level,” I said.
“Quite. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business elsewhere. Do return the items to the utility drawer, if you would,” he said before winking out of this plane before I could retort.
I strode over to where the paper towel roll and children’s glue lay, picked them up, thought about squeezing the cow’s face until it exploded, decided the cleanup wouldn’t be worth it, and walked into the kitchen where the drawer was. I pulled the knob, sliding the drawer open and revealing batteries, scissors, paper clips, and a tub of clear superglue. The cow’s gooey insides exploded through my clenched fists.
Chapter 12
Ireland, 1480
After rummaging through the soldiers’ sleeping quarters, I came across a chest filled with clothes that mostly fit me. After I slipped on the boots, I stood up and walked outside to where my mother was still in her bronze prison.
I stood in front of the bull positioned over the smoldering ashes. My arms became heavy as I told them to reach for the latch on the side. All I could do was stare.
Ulric walked up beside me, grasping the situation. “Leave her, John. She’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do.”
“She deserves a proper burial.” Tears stung my eyes. “As does my father.”
Ulric seemed puzzled at the impracticality, but understood he hadn’t experienced the loss of a family member in several lifetimes. It was all a distant memory from when he had been mortal. But he did recognize a man who was determined, and decided it was best to help in order to continue on with the mission.
I willed my hands to undo the latch that kept my mother imprisoned in her tomb. The door swung open, and the smell of charred flesh and hair wafted heavily into my face, adding insult to injury.
“They must have closed the latch whenever they heard us,” Ulric said contemplatively. He was still weak from giving me most of his life essence.
There she was, lying on her side, her dress plastered onto her body and one clawed hand reaching up the neck of the bull. All her nails had been broken off as she had desperately scratched at the metal. Dried blood streaked all along the inside in four-line patterns.
The heat had completely dried out her skin, etching a look of horror and anguish on her face as the flesh shrunk, revealing bare teeth and bulging red eyes. Dried blood ran down her cheeks where capillaries had burst in her sockets. The cords in her neck were prominently displayed through paper-thin skin.
I reached in and cradled my mother, who was stiff from lack of moisture in the body. I walked her over to a spot in the grass and laid her down. My hands moved to her eyelids and tried to close them. The now brittle flesh remained shrunk into her sockets. Her once beautiful, loving eyes remained staring, wide and horrified. I ripped a piece of my shirt off at the bottom and laid it across her eyes.
After a quick search, we located my father in a locked room. As I effortlessly burst through the lock, a gasp stole my voice at the sight of him strapped to the table with his intestines strung up above him through a hole in his stomach. The significance of seeing my father’s unmoving body grew exponentially in my chest. I kept expecting him to turn his head and tell me he was fine, and that he had tricked his captors into thinking he had died an excruciating death.
But my father, who had always been the example of the man I wanted to be, didn’t move. His head remained motionless. There was no rise and fall of his chest. Life had left his body long ago, leaving behind an empty, mortal shell.
Ulric placed his hand on my shoulder, not apologizing for my loss, but not rushing me either. The gesture brought me back to the now. I shook my head to clear the daze and stepped to the table.
After unwinding his innards, I pushed them back into his cavity the best I could before picking him up with one arm under his shoulders and the other supporting the back of his knees. Ulric moved to help.
“No. I need to do this,” I told him. Ulric nodded his head, not saying anything.
I laid my father on the cool, evening grass next to my mother. I stood upright and looked at them both.
“They didn’t deserve this,” I said, mostly to myself.
“You will avenge them, John,” Ulric comforted.
I dropped to my knees next to my mother and father, and started digging in the earth. Ulric stood over, watching in placation.
After several minutes, I buried both of my parents. I stood over their mounds, closed my eyes, and said an old Irish prayer under my breath. My father had taught it to me as a child, and it seemed fitting.
Once the prayer was complete and a few moments had passed, Ulric said, “John, it is time. We must feed this night.”
I nodded slowly in agreement, not only because I was feeling the pull of the thirst, but because I wanted to make every single one of those cowards pay. If they swore loyalty to the commander, they were mine.
A quick search revealed a map used by messengers to deliver orders between camps. Ulric picked it up, glanced at it for a fraction of a second, and then let it drop to the ground.
“Quickly now,” he said. “I am famished.”
“Wait!” I exclaimed, picking up the map. “Don’t you need this?”
He stopped in his tracks and took a deep breath in frustration. He turned, not accustomed to having to explain himself, and said, “Look at the paper, John.”
I did as he commanded.
“Now take it in. Open your mind and etch it like a chisel on stone,” he said.
I stared at the paper, squinting.
“Not like that,” Ulric said. “Don’t force it. Let it into your mind.”
“How?” I asked frustrated, letting my hands drop to my sides.
He walked to me, grabbed my wrists, and lifted my hands so the paper was in front of me again.
“Don’t try to etch it into your memory. Just let it,” he said. His lips were cracked.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and held it. After a few moments, I exhaled and opened my eyes, not staring at any specific spot. The ink jumped off the paper, and I could feel a pressure behind my eyes, as if a storm were on the horizon. After an instance, it was gone.
I dropped the paper and rubbed my eyes, “What was that?” I asked.
“It will feel a little unusual at first. You will grow used to it,” Ulric replied. “Can you tell me where the nearest camp is?”
With my eyes still closed, I focused in finding the map floating in my memory. It was easy to become lost, as my capacity for storage had been a house before I met Ulric and now was an entire village, with houses, shops, and even castles.
I located the map, and could read it as if it were in my hands.
“Due west. A little over a two-day walk,
” I said as if in a trance.
“Night, not day,” Ulric corrected before he clapped his hands in excitement and said, “Excellent. She chose wisely indeed.”
I found the exit in my brain and returned to the reins of my mind. Opening my eyes, I asked, “Who?”
“Not for you to know, yet. Now, let’s go if we are to make it to the next camp before midnight.”
“Before midnight? But it’s a two-night walk!” I protested, changing my vernacular accordingly.
Now it was Ulric’s turn to rub his eyes, “Must you question my every command, John?”
“Yes,” I said. “How else am I to learn?”
“Trust in your teacher. Follow,” he said, turning and walking out the door.
Outside he said, “Orient on the camp using the stars.”
“That will be easy. My father taught me…” I trailed off then whispered, “My father…” My hands curled into fists and my jaw clenched. Something was happening to my eyes. The trees around me grew sharper, becoming their own separate beings rather than one wooded landscape. Insects flying around the camp became visible. The smell of decaying bodies was picked up by my nose, and the smell of burnt flesh.
“Control it, John,” Ulric said, “or the bloodlust will control you.”
I felt like I was standing on the edge of a steep cliff, and if I missed a step, I wouldn’t be able to control my descent. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. I focused on my emotions and forced myself to calm down. In my mind, I was lying in a field on a cool spring night, staring into the stars. They passed overhead as thick as clouds and promised all sorts of secrets.
When I opened my eyes, everything was back to normal. The woods became one again, and the smell diminished to an afterthought.
I started walking in the direction of the next camp.
“Make haste!” Ulric said.
I started jogging, and then running. Soon I was at a full sprint. At the precipice between mortal and supernatural speed, I willed my legs to move even quicker. Before I realized how fast I was going, we were through the clearing and at the tree line. Refusing to break speed, I weaved between the trees and undergrowth in the direction of my next meal.
A couple branches caught my clothing and face, but I held fast, letting my resolve guide me. I gave up part of the reins to my PS, who helped keep me on track.
We were through another clearing when I checked my mental map again. I shifted course slightly and continued. I was amazed that I wasn’t tiring.
I could hear Ulric running alongside me, letting me guide the way.
“Now that we are through the trees,” Ulric said, “I want you to leap through the clearing. Watch me.”
With that, he started taking small jumps that built into complete bounds that propelled him farther than even I could run. I followed suit. After a few shorter jumps, I started leaping greater distances. After a few moments I even passed Ulric, who was smiling. My head turned to watch him, impressed that I had overtaken him, and was greeted by a giant tree that obviously needed a hug.
My momentum was abruptly brought to a halt, and I felt my ribs crack.
Damn it, PS, I thought to my other self. I was met with a mental shrug.
Ulric stopped just before where I was now a part of the tree and started laughing maniacally.
“Oh, Lilith! Always be aware of your surroundings, John,” he managed between heaves of laughter.
I murmured something under my breath about where I’d like to stick this tree on Ulric’s person, then tried to pull myself free.
I inhaled sharply when I moved as white sheets of pain shot outward from my ribs. I cried out in pain, which caused another bolt of lightning to explode from my jaw. Confused, I tried to bite down and was not-so-pleasantly surprised to discover my upper and lower teeth no longer aligned.
Ulric fell onto his backside, laughing up a storm. I delicately pushed myself back using my arms and fell to the ground, where a squeak of pain escaped my lips.
Ulric couldn’t take it anymore and went fully on his back, kicking and punching the air while tears streamed down his face from uncontrollable laughter.
“I’ve…” Ulric said between heaves of mirth, “I’ve seen plays held for kings and queens with the most decorated thespians across the lands, and nothing was as amusing as you! Oh, I clearly made the right decision with you, John.”
My ribs started to repair themselves with audible cracks. I forced my tender jaw back into place until the tendons healed themselves. Once able, I said, “Glad I could entertain you, sire. Might I wear a jester’s hat during my next performance?” I stood up and bowed.
He clapped in excitement, “Oh, Lilith! Yes, please!” he said, delighted.
“Shall we continue, ma’lord?” I asked, then added, “And who’s Lilith?”
Ulric sighed, disappointed the laughing session was over, and waved his hand, dismissing my last question. Wiping a tear from his eye, he replied, “You are right, of course. You lead.” He stifled a laugh at the end.
We ran for a few more hours without incident. A little past midnight, we made it to the camp.
Chapter 13
Present day
Iron cut closed, it was time to head to the only person who would probably help me: Depweg. He was my werewolf friend, and was basically my complete opposite in every respect: lived aboveground, could discern good from evil without a second thought, didn’t make it a habit to piss everyone off with his Oscar-winning wit, didn’t have a beard, and had friends who weren’t faeries that didn’t believe in faeries.
Deppyweg, as I enjoyed calling him, lived several miles outside of town, on the country road going toward the one K-Mart town of Lufkin. Given the distance, I chose to drive rather than sprint the entire way and get covered with dead bugs. Ulric had told me of ancient vampires who had had the ability to fly wherever they wanted. I’d tried on several occasions, but the energy needed damn near caused a blackout after only a few seconds. So, the Kia would do.
Before you say anything, my Kia has been good to me. It even has a turbo, which means it goes fast with less gas, I think. I don’t really know, but it sounds cool. Turbo.
I walked to the nearby storage facility where I kept my pearl-white Optima and hopped in. As I pushed the start button, I was met with the beautiful sounds of Mastodon’s latest album. I threw “Mortis” into drive and pulled out of my storage box. A quick focus of mind and the big metal door shut behind me. No need to lock it, as my steed was the only thing I kept in there. I pulled out onto the road and started my journey while belting out lyrics enthusiastically.
Along the way, I was met with drones who got off work late or families who had just eaten, all of whom were too tired or full to push on the gas pedal. I cursed under my breath as these zombies went under the speed limit on a two-way, two-lane road. I would catch myself about to ask the rubber on their tires to just kind of stop being so darn dense and let the problem take care of itself. But each time I even started to think about it, I pictured Papa T with his arms crossed and a disapproving scowl creasing his forehead. So instead, I said through gritted teeth my relaxation chant, “Three, two, one, one, two, three, what the heck is bothering me?”
“What is bothering you, Jonathan?” A silky woman’s voice purred next to me.
I swerved hard into oncoming traffic and overcorrected back into my lane and then onto the shoulder, where I drifted in a full circle. Baffled faces briefly lit up and passed into view from the other cars that had been in the cavalcade behind me due to the slow drivers. We finished the spin and faced forward again, with half the car on the shoulder and the other half in the dirt and grass. Honks and high-beam headlights angrily passed by, making sure I knew I was, in fact, a complete idiot.
Relaxing my death grip on the wheel and putting Mortis in park, I slowly turned my head to face Lily. She was one of the Fae High Court patrons, and a not-so-secret admirer of yours truly. More like a demanding admirer. Women, am I right?
She sat in the passenger seat with her curly blonde hair that touched the middle of her back. Tonight’s attire consisted of yoga pants—which she knew were one of my weaknesses, like Superman’s green rock—and a tight athletic top complete with small straps that revealed toned arms and firm breasts. I audibly gulped.
Light blue eyes that were almost white were gazing into mine, and her smell wafted up my nose like a cartoon hand beckoning me to completely zone out of the rest of the world. It was just us sitting in the middle of nowhere, with her scent and eyes holding me captive. My pants became uncomfortably tight.
“Maybe later, John,” she purred as she glanced at my super manly and impressive monster of a bulge. “The little guy can wait.” Zing!
Clearing my throat, I shifted in my seat and, as casually as possible, pulled on the fabric of my jeans to make things a tad more comfortable.
“Lily, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do you for?” I asked playfully.
“Well, Jo—”
“’Cause I only have like five bucks,” I mocked as I pulled some ones out of my front pocket.
The money burst into little flames which grew into tiny devils that started dancing on my palm. Suggestively, I might add. Once they started performing R-rated acts on one another, I shifted my eyes to Lily and closed my hand. Tiny screams escaped as my fingers tightened.
“Nice touch,” I said. “Can I return the favor?”
“Touching comes later, maybe. But first, to business, Jonathan,” she purred.
“Who’s this clearly attractive and buff Jonathan fellow? I keep getting mistaken for him,” I said, rolling my eyes. She smirked, saying nothing. “Look, I’m on my way to a friend, so can we hurry this up, please?”
