by Hunter Blain
Perhaps you can enjoy your posters another time?
Right, I acquiesced. At least what happens in the control room is sped up.
Forgive me if I don’t trust someone with the fatal flaw of time management.
Yeah, I put all my points into charisma, I said as I walked to the wheel.
Baleius stifled a bark of laughter as I took control.
The first thing I noticed was that the morning light was spilling into the lobby all the way to the tile in front of the desk. I grabbed the key card, parkoured over the desk, and hurriedly made my way to the elevator bank. The doors opened immediately after pushing the up button, and I stepped in to select my floor. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open as the dawn swallowed the Earth.
Stepping out, I took note of the room map and made my way to my door. Light shone from under the door.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself.
Pull your beanie down to cover as much of your head as you can. Let your coat sleeves hang past your hands and lift your collar. Hold—and I can’t believe I’m having to explain this to you—the coat up in front of your face.
Well, if you want to make sense…I trailed off as I unlocked the door and did as suggested with my attire. Hesitantly, I opened the door and was bombarded with sunlight strucking my trench coat. I groaned as the heat nearly overwhelmed me.
Hurry, Baleius commanded.
I shuffled toward the window with my coat acting as a shield from the hungry sun. My sleeve slid up, and my wrist was set ablaze. I screamed through a clenched jaw and tight lips, willing my fingers to not drop the coat.
Once I felt my elbow hit the wall to the left of the window, I used my free hand to grab the blackout curtains and tugged them closed. Letting go, I put my free hand behind the shield of my coat and moved to the other side to repeat the process. The room filled with the smell of charred flesh as I closed the curtains. I ran to the bathroom, sharply sucking air through my teeth, and put my blackened wrist under the sink to run it under cold water. I groaned in pain as strands of John-jerky flaked off to land in sharp contrast to the white porcelain. On top of everything, I was exhausted as I fought to stay awake.
You’re fine. Get some rest. We have much to discuss tomorrow.
“Like what?” I asked out loud as I yawned while walking to the queen-size bed.
The fact that the time stamp on the security footage was set at 2029.
I barely heard him as I fell face-first onto the bed, losing consciousness in an instant.
7
I awoke with a start, aggressively pushing myself into a seated position on the bed. I was vaguely aware that my wrist had healed during my slumber.
“What the fuck do you mean 2029?!” I asked in near-panicked frustration.
That’s what the camera system showed, Baleius responded while deep in thought.
No way, man. No freaking way. We were only in Faerie for a few hours, right?
Yes. We need to find Taylor or Lily.
Oh shit, I exclaimed as comprehension hit.
What is it? Baleius asked, giving me his full attention.
What if I was right and Faerie really is one of the higher dimensions?
I don’t follow.
In all dimensions after the third, time is a huge proponent. When we shifted planes, we went into one of the last three or four known dimensions, where they have their own set of universal laws and physics; including time.
Baleius didn’t say anything, suggesting that I should continue my theory.
Look, say we are in space just outside the event horizon of the black hole, Cygnus X-1, and I jumped out of the ship and floated toward the center. If I turned to look at the universe as I floated, millions or even billions of years would pass before my eyes the closer I got to, and crossed, the event horizon. From your perspective, I would appear to be frozen in time, unmoving for millions or billions of years until I crossed the point of no return. Then I would simply vanish from your perspective because light wouldn’t be able to travel from me to your eyes anymore. Time is relative to the person.
I see. Time in Faerie passed normally for us, but back on Earth it was accelerated.
Accelerated from our point of view, but normal for them. Oh, Lilith, everyone probably thinks we are dead.
I don’t think so, Baleius said confidently.
Why’s that? I demanded in frustration. Surely my friends would’ve noticed we were gone for ten fucking years?!
The world is still here, he stated flatly.
Ah, right, I relented. Hmm, I think I understand the premise of Peter Pan a little more now.
How so?
Kids stay young in Neverland and years pass between visits, right?
I think I understand where you are going. But we need to get in contact with our allies.
Oh no…
What?
Father Thomes…he was already old before we fled to Faerie. Baleius didn’t answer, which told me as clear as words that he agreed with my right to be concerned.
Let’s get going.
Wait, let me check something first, I said as I pulled out my cell phone again. “No Service” was displayed at the top. Shit. I guess I can’t get mad at Da for not paying my cell phone bill for ten years with no use. An idea came to me then. Maybe I can connect to Wi-Fi.
I went to the settings and searched for the Holiday Inn signal. There was none to be found under Wi-Fi.
That’s freaking weird, I said as I closed my useless phone and replaced it in my pocket.
All the more reason to return home quickly.
We headed out of the room toward the elevator, rode to the first floor, and exited into the lobby. An older Indian woman with a bindi on her forehead looked up from her computer to smile and bid me farewell. I waved with a forced half smile and stepped through the automatic doors.
Please step away from the building far enough so that the cameras can’t see you this time, Baleius suggested.
I walked to the edge of the parking lot and into the open desert until I felt confident the cameras wouldn’t see me bust out my vamp-wings.
Focus on making the wings just as they were last night. Don’t deviate or they might not be able to sustain flight.
Got it.
I closed my eyes and pictured the wings in my mind, willing blood to snake out of my back. They peeked out from under my collar and slid down my coat and into place before starting to form my bloodwings.
Very good, John, Baleius said in approval as crimson wings extended several feet in either direction.
I looked up at the night sky, found the stars I was searching for, and oriented on home. With an explosive flap of my bloodwings, we shot into the night.
I followed the major highway, swooping down to glance at road signs and making changes in direction when necessary. I knew I was getting closer to home when the humidity started to build, thickening the air. Though something was off.
Does it feel a tad chilly to you?
I don’t really pay attention; but now that you mention it, it is somewhat noticeable.
Hmm.
After a few hours of gliding just under the sparse cover of clouds, a welcomed sight came into view—the bright lights of Houston. As we soared closer, I noticed the city had expanded outward. Roads that I thought would always be under construction were complete, only to be replaced with other highways beginning their own expansions or reworks.
A few more minutes of flight and I was descending to the cemetery I had called home for over thirty years. A sigh of relief escaped me as I took note that it was still well maintained. It would have been a real shame to have a parking lot paved over my Fortress of Solitaire…oh, and all those graves too, of course. But mostly that first thing.
I landed at the mausoleum and began moving the marble door as my wings retreated back into me. Hope washed over me as I saw that the hidden entrance was still closed.
Ma-maybe they still live here, you know? I said more in a reassur
ing statement to myself rather than as a question to Baleius. If they had abandoned the place, they probably wouldn’t have bothered closing the door behind them, you know? Not with the big marble door at the front.
There’s only one way to find out, Baleius said quietly. I could feel the unease in his voice, which only compounded my growing anxiety.
No, they wouldn’t have left me.
It’s been ten years, John. It would be in the realm of unreason for them to hold out hope for that long. Control your emotions and let’s push through.
You’re one to talk about emotions, I remarked childishly.
Considering the situation I was in, I would confidently say I handled myself exceedingly well. Do you think you would be able to fare any better?
Knowing I was in the wrong and had been a dick to him, I ignored the question and pressed the false stone to open the hidden door. I made my way down the steps and to the front door of my home. Fear gripped my chest and tightened my throat as trembling fingers reached for the handle before stopping just before touching it.
Should…should I knock? The question irked me. This was my home, damn it. I grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, relieved to see it wasn’t locked. Stepping inside, I flipped the switch on the wall next to the door, and light bathed the kitchen and attached living room in a white/blue hue from the LEDs.
I didn’t recognize what I was staring at. The white marble had been redone to black quartz. The walls and cabinets had been repainted dark colors. Crown molding had been added. In the living room, comfy bachelor furniture had been replaced by sophisticated works of art. The couch on the wall was dark leather with big, fashionable buttons all along the leather cushions. The buttons created deep recesses, making the cushions look incredibly thick and comfortable.
On the wall across from the couch was a huge, paper-thin TV. I stared in awe as I approached it, unbelieving how impossibly thin it was. There weren’t any cords running to it. Placing my ear against the wall, I tried to see just how thin the TV really was. It was as thick as a poster that comes rolled up in a cardboard tube.
Below the TV sat an expensive-looking entertainment center with a console the size of a remote control. An X was stenciled on it. It also had no wires running to it.
“What the fuck?” I asked out loud.
A cannonball of invisible force slammed into my stomach, sending me flying back into the kitchen where I smacked into the metal front door.
I lifted my head to reveal glowing red eyes and bared teeth with two sharp fangs as I searched for my attacker. I spotted him immediately and pushed myself off the wall with enough force to fly through the air toward my small opponent.
Halfway to my target, I noticed the frame of a small boy standing in a doorway with hands glowing green and purple.
“John?” asked a voice in slow motion as I soared toward him. I shot my hands to either side of the metal door and willed two pillars of blood to explode out of my hands. As they hit the frame, I steadily solidified the pillars, slowing my speed until I stopped right in front of the young boy.
“L-Locke?” I stammered, looking him up and down, letting my eyes return to their violet color.
Locke’s glowing hands went out, and I was able to see his face. The head of a man on a ten-year-old body. The man-child stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me as I willed my blood to retract into my palms. Then Locke did something unexpected: he began sobbing. Unsure of what to do, I put my hands on his shoulders and waited for the storm to pass.
“Where have you been?” Locke asked between heaves of pain and relief.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I spent a few hours in Faerie before the Shadow Court attacked and came out ten years later,” I said before adding, “Why are you crying?”
“It’s bad, John. It’s so bad,” Locke said as he broke the embrace and wiped tears from his face. “I also didn’t know if you were dying somewhere, with the apocalypse about to start at any time. Ten years. For ten…years…I thought about the end coming any minute. Imagine going to sleep not knowing if you would wake up again.”
“Or worse, if you were on the toilet,” I jested, trying to alleviate the tension. Locke chuckled as he wiped his face clean. “Where is everyone?” I asked, turning my head to look at open doors leading to empty rooms.
Locke looked at the ground as his bottom lip trembled.
“Dude…” I exhaled. “Don’t leave me hanging like this. Where’s Da?”
“Da…shifted planes to go look for you…and never came back.”
“Oh, Lilith…the Shadow Court.” My mouth hung open in dismay as realization stole my breath. My head grew light, making me woozy at the thought of what could have happened to my friend. Shaking my head to clear it of the mounting worry, I asked, “And Depweg? Where’s he?”
Locke’s lip stopped trembling and he took in a slow, deep breath as his gaze lifted to latch onto mine. In purposeful, pained movements, he shook his head back and forth while never breaking eye contact.
The anxiety in my chest exploded like a world-destroying nuke as I stepped back with eyes bulging. My feet struggled to find purchase as my leg bones disintegrated, leaving behind unstable jelly unable to bare my weight any longer. I collapsed to my knees, my hands sprawling out to catch my fall. Tears blurring my vision, I asked in a shaky voice with an excess of air surrounding the words, “Wha-what happened?”
“With you gone, no one was willing to stop the evil from spreading. No one except Depweg and the twins. Reluctantly, Father Thomes paired with them, and they tried to pick up where you left off. For a while, they did good, until word spread of what they were doing.” Locke paused at the end, unsure of how to continue.
“Dude, tell me what happened to my best friend,” I barked angrily as tears streaked down my cheeks. This was too much.
“A hunter set a trap that no one saw coming. He-he got them.” His eyebrows were knitted together as he broke the appalling news.
Those three words slammed into my chest like a stake being hammered into my heart.
“How do you know they’re dead?” I asked as my head became heavy, forcing my gaze to lower from Locke to the ground.
“I don’t; but there was a lot of blood. I gave up hope when I saw distinct drag marks in the pools of blood.”
Something is off, Baleius said quietly.
My strength returned and I lifted my head to study the warlock. “Why didn’t you keep looking? And why do you seem so shaken up about my friends being missing or dead?” I accused aggressively, anger bolstering my words. My eyes glowed red with my building rage. “You never liked them, you sick fuck. You tried to kill us!”
Locke took my onslaught with grace as he spoke. “You were gone a very long time, John. We had plenty of time to grow close after we gave up looking for you. Jonathan Depweg was my friend. My only friend. The twins always kept me at arm’s length, but not Depweg. He forgave me, and he became a brother to me.” Locke had tears that flowed in unison with my own.
My fury subsided. I was attacking Locke as a means of distraction, and he didn’t deserve it. I looked at the ground in my shame and anguish.
“Do you know where they could be?” I asked while squeezing my eyes shut, knowing it was a long shot.
“No,” Locke said, shattering my hope. “But I know who took them.”
My eyes shot open to meet Locke’s as I barked out, “Who?!”
“His name is Ludvig Mansson, and he is truly terrifying.”
“What kind of stupid name is Ludvig?” I asked, hating whatever name Locke would have given.
“He’s a Swedish supernatural hunter who’s more than proficient at what he does. Be careful, John. He’s adept against many foes. Many of the few remaining supes in the region have gone missing.”
“Where can I find this Swedish meatball?”
“I’d suggest watching the news and getting ahead of any stories about humans being killed in particularly gruesome ways. He
is sure to be hunting the few supes that didn’t flee to Faerie.”
“I don’t have time for that,” I said, biting on my thumbnail as my mind wandered. “What about if we set our own fucking trap? Make it look like there’s a pack of wolves, or something similar, killing humans in Houston.”
“I thought you were worried about your soul?” Locke asked cautiously.
“I don’t have to kill innocents to leave a trail of bodies,” I said dryly. “How long ago were they taken?”
“About a year,” Locke answered.
“A…a year? Oh, Lilith. Even if they are alive…” I trailed off as my mind meandered into the darkness of horrific possibilities. “How do you know he hunts all supes and isn’t, like, a werewolf hunter or something?”
“Valenta told me. It’s one of the few places I’m not scared to go to because of how close it is. The bar has been empty since the warlocks aided in the mass exodus from Earth, so I’m one of his few remaining customers and points of contact. Val confided that he suspects it’s Ludvig.”
My face scrunched in an angry microexpression that only lasted a nanosecond at the reminder of how Locke had opened a portal to Faerie. Countless supernaturals had met their fate at the hands of Queen Mab, who didn’t take kindly to trespassers.
It was good to hear Val was still around, though. I’d be willing to bet he would be harder to remove than an Alabama tick. No, not ol’ Val. Unless he wanted to, he wasn’t going to move for anyone or anything.
After a few moments of heavy silence, a thought struck like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil.
“Father Thomes?” The words were barely audible as I spoke his name. I must have swallowed a lemon or something because there was a huge lump in my throat that prevented me from swallowing.
“He’s alive, but not doing well. After what happened to the pack, his health declined dramatically. I think the guilt at losing you and then them wore on his soul. After you, then Da, and finally the pack, I decided to lie low. I try to send help his way—you know, for groceries and stuff. They report back to me.”
