The Resurrection Man (Chap 1-6)
This story is rough around the edges and everything here is subject to change. I’ve recently started writing it and wanted to get it out there to see what people think. So far it has no permanent title and I probably won’t come up with a permanent name for some time. If you have any suggestions, let me know through my instagram or facebook.
Prologue
I was hunting a stag through an old growth forest of ancient oak trees. It was around sunset, so the canopy above me created an artificial nightfall since the sun was nearing the horizon. All around me were twisted, elegant tree trunks that looked like lost souls were trapped within their bark. I had an arrow knocked in my yew bow, my kilt hiked up a little bit so that it wouldn’t rustle against my legs and alert the stag. I knelt down to find his tracks.
They were normal stag imprints, but the pattern of their impressions were what suggested to me that he might have a broken leg or some other deformity in his leg. Either way, this guy was going to provide for my family. It was weak and I was strong, so I had full intentions of killing it and eating it with my wife.
I was by nature a solitary person, choosing to live on my own for most of my life once I turned thirteen. Over the next three years, I hunted big game and trapped small game to sell it at the nearest town. I normally hated to be around people. It wasn’t that I hated them, far from it actually. They gave me supplies and clothes in exchange for my pelts and extra meat. What’s to not like about that? No, I just preferred the company of trees and clear skies to the company of people and towns. I thought about the fabled cities of Britain. I could only imagine the stink of shit in the streets and suffocating closeness of everybody. No thank you.
I turned my attention back to hunting this animal, padding silently through the glade of knotted bark. This creature was probably a good ten minutes away from being shot by my arrow. My stomach growled at the thought of cooking one of it’s tender haunches over the fire tonight while I harvested it’s meat and cured it’s pelt. My horse was grazing in the clearing just before the forest began about a half mile behind me, so I’d have to drag the stag back that way before I could even think of cutting it open.
Shit. Don’t count your chicks before they hatch, I berated myself. First, I had to kill the stag. I kept on keeping on, and followed the stag’s tracks through the forest. Bridgit would love this place. Thinking of her sent a stab of longing through my heart. Soon, I’d be back with her and our baby daughter feasting on my kill in our warm little cottage. I didn’t normally enjoy being around people, but there was something about Bridgit that made me want to be with her all the time. She was a loner like me, and I still have no idea what forces were in play that had us cross paths. It was a one in a million chance we’d ever meet, and I still thank all the gods, the old and the new, that that one in a million chance happened.
Finally, I tracked this damn thing’s tracks to an artificial clearing with a fortress in the center. From what I could see, this was one of those old forts abandoned long ago once the Brits realized they couldn’t keep us northerners down. The tracks led directly into a large gaping slash in the fort’s wall. It was like a permanent scar in what looked like an impenetrable wall. Whatever had done this all those years ago must have been one hell of a weapon. I shuddered at the thought. Another reason why I didn’t like being around people. There was always the chance I’d be inducted into some military and be forced into a war where I would be a pawn in some lord’s or lady’s grudge match with another lord or lady. Nobody was going to steal my life, my precious years on this world, for something as trivial as a grudge.
I stepped through the scar in the wall to follow the tracks into the main keep. Strange. Stags generally would never go into a building, abandoned or not. Either way, the stag will be trapped in there with me, so I guessed I should count my blessings that this kill will be easy.
The prints were easy to follow on the dust covered ground and I followed them up stairs and down corridors. Something didn’t feel right though. Something in the air and at the back of my neck was telling me I should get out of here right now, stag or no stag. A stag would never come into a building such as this either. They have far better instincts than humans, so if I was having this feeling, then a stag definitely would be. That told me one thing, and I almost shat myself when I realized it. I wasn’t tracking a stag. Something lured me here. The hunter becomes the hunted.
I slung my bow over my back and returned my arrow to my quiver on my hip. Being in a building diminished the effectiveness of my bow significantly. I took out my dirk knife and began to prowl my way back down to the entrance of the keep, all of my senses alert to danger. That’s when I heard the voice.
“Put the knife down if you want to see your family alive again,” the deep, calming voice said.
“What the fuck did yeh say, ya we little shite,” I growled, turning around just in time to be knocked out with a blackjack.
I woke up, tied to a vertical table. My arms were tied straight up and my legs were tied straight down, suspending me. My vision was tinged red as I tried to blink away the searing pain in my temple. I managed to see two tables in front of me with figures writhing on them. I blinked more, managing to clear my vision enough to find my wife Bridget chained to one table and my baby girl with a collar around her neck that was tied to the other table.
“Dove, what the fuck are ya doin’ here!?” I shouted.
“Alec? What’s goin’ on? I can’t see ya!” she yelled. We weren’t far from one another, but we were scared.
“That’s enough talking,” the voice said again. It was an accent I had never heard before. It wasn’t Scottish or British.
I turned to look at the voice, but the figure was hidden in shadow. “What in the hell to ye want with us?” Bridget yelled at him. “We ain’t done nothin’ to hurt anybody.”
“Exactly. You are innocents. You make the most powerful ghosts. But I’m not interested in you two,” the voice said. “I’m interested in Alec. He will make a most powerful ghost.”
“Stop bein’ a coward ‘n show yerself!” I bellowed at the voice.
“As you wish.” The man stepped out of the shadows to reveal a tall man dressed in a dark cloak with a deep hood. Within that hood sat a masked face. The mask had a plain lower jaw with an intricately carved forehead inlayed with gold around the eyes.
“What do yeh want with us?” I asked the man. “I don’t care what yeh do ta me, but let me family go.”
“I can’t do that,” the man said. “You need to suffer as much as possible.”
“I don’t understand. Why are yah doin’ this!” I shouted in frustration. My family. Why my family. The only people I’ve loved since my ma and pa died. Why them!?
“You won’t understand now, but in time you will. Do you want to see them die?”
Bridget let out a squeak and the baby began to cry. My baby girl. I struggled against the restraints to try and get to my babe.
“I don’t want them ta die at all!” I screamed, tears running down my cheeks.
“Good.” Behind the man there came a deep rumbling growl. My face paled and the blood drained from my cheeks. “This is one of my pets. It’s called a wendigo.” A creature nearly twice as tall as any man would be stepped out of the shadows. It was skinny and had abnormally long limbs. It’s skin was red and seemed to be covered in molting scabs. Each one of it’s limbs ended in huge clawed things that could only be hands and feet. But that wasn’t the worst of it. It’s face had a huge mouth that couldn’t properly close because of huge dagger-like teeth. It had no cheeks, just more teeth. It’s bald head was covered in rotting cuts and more scabs. Then there were it’s eyes. Black, beady, and soulless.
I couldn’t utter a sound at the sight of the thing.
“An interesting thing about Wendigos. They eternally hunger for human flesh, but there is an abundance of it. They never rush their way through a meal and always derive a certain satisfaction from eating it while it lives. They enjoy to play with their food. Would you like to know what my pet’s next meal is going to be?”
“Stop,” I muttered. “Please, stop. I’ll do anythin’.”
“I know you will. When the time comes, I’m going to hold you to that promise. For now, watch.” The masked man snapped his fingers and the Wendigo walked to my wife and set to trying to satisfy his hunger. I watched her slowly be devoured, flesh ripping, ragged screams worse than childbirth, and tears streaming down her beautiful face. My babe hollered and wailed for its mother. I couldn’t say anything. I tried closing my eyes, but a force kept them open. I tried struggling against my bonds, but the masked my laughed and pulled on a lever. With a sickening crack, my limbs were ripped out of their sockets by the tightening rope. The pain was nothing compared to watching what was happening to my wife.
The wendigo finished with Bridget, leaving only a stained table and tattered clothes. It moved onto my babe. I tried looking away. I couldn’t. After several terrible minutes, it was done.
“Please,” I said. “Kill me,” was all I could say.
The masked man walked over to me and gently cupped my cheek. “I will… in time.” He took out a bucket of acrid smelling liquid and doused me in it. “I’m truly sorry you went through this. But it’s for a purpose higher than you.” The man started to strike flint on steel to the liquid. Sparks splashed against the sheening acrid fluid on my skin to ignite it. My body was engulphed in flame, searing my skin, melting my bone. Despite the pain, despite the burning and smell of my own cooking flesh, I felt an anger in me. An anger at this masked man. I would kill this man. I would burn this man away from the face of the world for taking the one thing that mattered away from me. With that, I died.
Chapter 1
I was exploring the ancient oak forest that I found just west of (Redacted) in Scotland. It was around noonish and my belly grumbled. I found a nice spot to light up a fire and start cooking some instant ramen I had packed in my bag. I technically wasn’t supposed to be here because it was private land, but I haven’t noticed anybody here for the past fifty miles. It’s almost like somebody just bought up a bunch of land just to let it sit. Must be conservationists. Anyway, I wasn’t worried about being caught. If I was caught, they might sue me for everything I had which was about fifty bucks, so it wasn’t a huge loss.
I cooked the ramen in my little travel pot and ate it with the travel fork I always bring. Instant ramen is terrible for you, but I didn’t care. It was cheep and easily one of my favorite meals. I had a little dried beef with me so I plopped that in the pot as well. Yum. As soon as I finished this delicacy, I buried the fire in dirt and continued on my hike. As I walked, I grabbed a stick and swished it through the air, imagining the tiny molecules of oxygen, nitrogen, and whatever else was in the air, flow around the stick. It was a cool little thought game I invented to entertain myself. To imagine just how small everything that makes us up really was intrigued me.
Turning my attention away from my thought game, I looked around me at the light flooding through the green canopy above me. I focused specifically on the leaves themselves and was still astonished at how much contrast I could make out. My eye sight has always been a cut above everybody else’s and looking at leaves illuminated by light gave me no end of entertainment.
I wacked my stick on a tree trunk, but it broke and bounced off to hit me in face. I let out a groan and grabbed the throbbing welt. “That hurt,” I grumbled.
As the pain began to subside, I looked up to see a really old fort. It looked hundreds of years old and completely abandoned. The walls were crumbling, but there was one portion that looked as if it were blown apart, leaving a scar in the wall. “Crazy,” I said to myself. Time to explore.
I walked through the scar in the wall, looking all around me, taking everything in. It amazed me that something like this could be built with such primitive technology. I saw that the main keep could be easily entered by just walking through a half-rotted door. I broke it down with a few good kicks and began to explore the inside of the fort. It was decently well lit, courtesy of the narrow slits in the walls for shooting arrows out of.
There was a spiraling staircase going up to a higher level that I cautiously ascended, keeping an ear out for crumbling stone. Who knew how old this thing was? At the top of the staircase, I walked down a hallway and froze. Something just moved out of the corner of my eye. I jerked my head in the direction of the movement and found nothing. Feeling a little creeped out, I took out my small handgun. This was a pain getting through customs at the airport, but I was really glad I had it with me now. Looking back, I should have turned around then. I should have left and never returned. But I was twenty years old, pining for adventure. Little did I know, not all adventures were always fun.
I kept walking down the hallway, gun held firmly in both of my hands, safety off. I checked out a couple of the rooms to not find much in them.
As I walked down the corridor, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye again. This time I caught a slightly better look of it. It was a brown-red color and tall… really tall. What the hell? I brought my gun up and walked to where I had seen it. It was around a corner. I quickly rounded it to find more empty corridor. Light was streaming in through openings in the walls, illuminating everything in a golden light. I walked down this new corridor, but I heard a door slam shut to my right. The echo ran down the hall. I could feel a tingling sensation at the back of my neck and I froze. I wasn’t alone in here. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking it was a trick of the light. There was something in here with me. I really wanted to turn back, but some sick part of me wanted to see it through till the end. I walked towards the door that slammed shut and braced myself to open it. My hand grasped the handle. I could feel my sweaty palms slipping on the old brass nob. I braced myself, gun held in one hand, nob in the other, and I ripped the door open. What was inside confirmed every single fear I had. Sure, common sense had told me it was probably a junky, but there was that one part in my brain that told me it was something else. Something primal. Something from nightmares. Something that gave me a reason to be scared of the dark.
The room was pitch black and I couldn’t see anything right away. But as my eyes adjusted, a tall lanky figure was revealed. It’s limbs were long and thin, with large hands ending in jagged claws. It stepped into the light to reveal red scabby skin, a mouth full of razor sharp teeth, and black beady eyes looking at me hungrily. It took another step towards my, raising a clawed hand. I couldn’t move for some reason. The creatures claw slowly cut my chest, tearing my shirt slightly. The slight jolt of pain jerked me out of my trance. I shot it four times, stopping it in its tracks. It looked down at its chest where I shot it, then back up at me. Son of a bitch. Barely a reaction.
“Fuck this,” I said and sprinted out of the room. From what I could hear, the creature ran after me, scraping and sliding on the stone floor. It began to close in on me, but I quickly ran around a corner and it slid into the wall. That bought me a few more seconds. I saw a narrow door ahead of me that looked as if it might be able to hold this thing back. I quickly ran into it and shut it just in time to hear the monster crash into it. It clawed and scraped at the door but to no avail. After a few moments, it went away.
Great. Now I was trapped in this room with a monster prowling the hallways.
I looked around me and found two stained stone tables as well as a charred skeleton chained to a Rack. What was this hell? I exhaled, finding that my breathe was misting in the cold atmosphere. I shivered slightly. There was a large window at the far end of the room. If worse came to worse, I guess I could just jump out of the window and hope for the best. I breathed in a lungful of cold air and exhaled again. The misted breath left my mouth, but seemed to be met by some kind of invisible object. A face! I jumped back to the doorway. What the hell was this place? Monsters and ghosts around every corner!
“What the hell are you?” I stammered.
I could faintly hear a reply.
“What?” I asked again.
“Why me?” it said, barely audible.
“What do you mean, why you?” I asked.
“Why me?” it repeated, this time clearly audible, and clearly distraught.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I pressed.
“My family. Killed and eaten by that… thing,” the apparition continued.
“Do you mean that tall scabby monster?”
“It’s still here?” I heard it say.
“Yeah. It almost killed me.”
“How did yeh find this place? Did the stag lead yeh hear? Ya have to leave before yeh end up like me.” We were clearly communicating. I was talking to a Scottish ghost. How was I talking to a Scottish ghost?
“I’m safe enough in here,” I said. “Was that you?” I asked the ghost, gesturing to the charred body.
“It was, I don’t even know how long ago. It feels like centuries ago now.”
“What’s your name?” I asked the ghost.
“Alec. Yer the first person I’ve seen since the masked man.”
“The masked who?”
“The masked man. He’s the pigfucker that killed my… my…” he trailed off. After a moment, I realized the disembodied voice was sobbing.
“What did he do?” I asked gently.
The air suddenly went from cold to hot. Uncomfortably hot. “That masked piece of shite killed my dove and my babe. He took everythin’ from me! I’m going to kill that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing I do!”
I could feel the heat radiating from the disembodied voice. “Listen, I’m not the masked man, you don’t need to cook me,” I pleaded.
The air suddenly got frigid again. “Right, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do. Somethin’ is keepin’ me from leavin’ this cursed room. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been helpless ever since that night.”
“You could come with me,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
With a flash of blinding blue light, I felt a surge of energy into my body. It was a burning kind of energy that made my entire body feel electrified. The inrush of energy continued for what felt like hours, and then I collapsed on the ground. It had stopped just as suddenly as it had started. My body stayed on the ground, steaming slightly. What the hell just happened?
My arms felt like jelly, but I managed to prop myself up on them. “Hello?” I called out. “You there Alec? Mr. Ghost?”
Nothing.
“Great. Now I’m going crazy.” I must have just had a seizure or something.
I stood up on shaky legs and looked to the window. A clawed hand was gripping the outside of it. Then another clawed hand. The grotesque head of the scab monster came into view. It pulled itself up, noiselessly and slowly. I backed up to the doorway and tried to open it. Something was blocking the other side. This thing had trapped me! I looked for my gun, but it had somehow ended up near the window.
I stood there, pushing against the doorway, trying to get as far away from the approaching monster as I could. It took its sweet time though. Each step was as deliberate as something that knew it had won. It was savoring my terror.
It was within reaching distance now and gently grabbed my waste with its clawed hand. I fought against its grip, but nothing I did could stop it. It lifted me up towards its gaping mouth lined with rows of razor sharp teeth. Its mouth was so large, my entire head could fit inside with ease. I smelled its rancid breath and almost vomited.
Just as the jaws began to clamp down on my head, I felt a rage in me. A rage I had never felt before. This wasn’t my rage though. Oh no, this was something… somebody else’s rage. This was a rage bread through centuries of regret and longing. It filled my body and flooded the palms of my hand. I smelled something burning and the creature let go of me, letting out an ear-piercing screech.
I looked up at it to find the monster thrashing and scratching at its flesh. I saw two scorch marks in the shape of my hands on its arm. I looked down at my own hands to see them glowing a bright white. I quickly scrambled to my feet and jumped onto the monster, still filled with the same rage as before. I jammed my hand into its eye, spreading my fingers to maximize the surface area of burning. I jammed them in deeper and deeper until I was sure I was boiling this creature’s brain.
The creature fell limp to the ground, twitching slightly. I took my hand out of its eye socket, leaving a steaming crater where its eye should have been. I looked at my own hands to see them slowly fade from a bright white to a dull glowing red, and finally to their normal white-pinkish color.
There was a sort of satisfaction coming from within me that I knew wasn’t my own. Whatever had just happened must have been the result of the ghost. Alec must have wanted to get revenge against this thing badly. Well, he definitely got his revenge.
Now, I definitely needed to get out of here. I was tired and hungry. I needed a good bed and some damn ramen, STAT.
Chapter 2.
I had packed enough food for the return trip. I really and truly did. It would take me about five days to get back to the tavern I had been staying at and I definitely packed enough ramen and beef jerky for the journey. But I ate everything the first night of my return journey. I was so hungry I just couldn’t help myself. I didn’t know why I was so hungry. It must have been what happened in the fort. Whatever the reason, I was screwed. All of that delicious ramen and beef jerky was in my belly and I was going to starve.
Before I could worry about any of this, I needed to get some sleep. And boy did I sleep. It was easily the best sleep I’d had in ages. Years. Centuries. I woke with a start. The best sleep I had in centuries? I was twenty. It took me a moment to recollect the events of yesterday. It must have been Alec’s best sleep in centuries. Just how old was this ghost?
My stomach grumbled. I rummaged through my pack to find that I had missed a ramen packet last night. My last little reserve of food. Without thinking, I boiled the noodles, added the seasoning packet, and ate it all. As I licked the pot clean, I felt a pang of regret. Why was I so hungry?
Now that I truly didn’t have anymore food, I might as well begin the fifty mile walk back to civilization. For the rest of the day, I felt miserable. I had planned on camping out for a couple of days to give my feet a rest then go back. Now, my feet hurt, I was hungry with no food, my four-hundred-dollar gun was destroyed by that monster stepping on it, and I had a ghost hitchhiker in my body. Why was this happening to me?
I walked until noon and decided to take a break. It was a beautiful day out, but I was having trouble enjoying it. My stomach kept on growling away, desperate for food. I took out my knife and began to whittle to take my mind off the hunger. There was some bramble here and there and I played with that too. I just let my mind wander. My hands were working as if of their own accord. I didn’t really care though. I was just fiddling. Deciding it was time to go, I tried to get up but found that I couldn’t. My hands just kept fiddling away with the bramble and sticks. I began to panic. Did the ghost take over my body?
Just as I was about to start berating the ghost, it stuck my finger in the contraption and a collection of brambles tightened around my finger, trapping it. My other hand went to loosen and reset the trap. The ghost had made a snare! My fingers made about ten more snares and scattered them around the area.
My body got up and walked away from the snares. I began to gather acorns. As soon as I had a large pile, I peeled them and put them in my cooking pot. There was a stream nearby that I used to fill the pot with water. Next, my fingers built a fire and allowed the pot to boil. The water turned very dark, which my hand dumped out, refilled with fresh water, and set to boil again. I did this five times in total, each time the water turned less and less dark. After the last washing, I regained the use of my limbs. The smell of the acorns was tantalizing, and I scarfed them all down. I barely even tasted them, but they filled me up fast. I decided to prepare more in a similar way the ghost had done just in case I got hungry again.
Over the next hour, I had amassed a sizable number of edible acorns which stored in my backpack. It had been a couple of hours as well, so I went to see if the snares had caught anything.
It turns out, they had! I big plump rabbit in fact. But I wasn’t really hungry anymore. I didn’t know if I could kill it. What would I even do with it anyway? I didn’t know how to skin it.
“Uh, Alec? You’re better at this woodsy stuff than me. Can you help me out?”
A blue phantom seemed to leach off my body to stand right next to me. After a moment, it solidified in the shape of a man wearing a kilt , a woolen shirt, and some rugged looking boots. His hair was a long mane that traveled halfway down the nape of his neck and he had no beard. His eyes were hard, but full of sorrow. I couldn’t tell what color his hair and eyes should have been because all of him was a bright light blue. He looked to be about my age.
“So that’s what you look like,” I muttered.
“Aye. So, yeh need help killin’ a wee rabbit, do ya?”
“Well…” I began to say, but he cut me off.
“No, I’ll stop yeh right there. If yeh want to eat tonight, kill it now. If yeh don’t want to eat tonight, set it free. I got no problem settin’ the traps for yeh or skinnin’ the animal, but I’m not the one eatin’ the wee thing. You kill it.”
I looked at him, then to the rabbit. Fuck it.
That night, I lay by the fire cooking the rabbit on a spit while the acorns roasted in my cooking pot. I didn’t like killing the rabbit, but Alec had a point. If I was going to eat an animal, I should be the one to kill it.
Alec sat next to me on a log, staring into the fire. “I wish I could feel the warmth of the fire,” he said.
I looked at him, not sure how to respond. In the night, he cast a slight blue illumination to his surroundings.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I wasn’t expectin’ ya to say anythin’. I’m just shocked we killed that Wendigo.”
“That what?” I asked.
“That’s what the man in the mask called the monster.”
“Ah.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Even though Alec and I looked to be the same age, Alec obviously had a lot more life experiences than I had. He had a whole damn family. Well, they were dead now. But he used to have a family. I was taking a semester off college. I hadn’t even gotten my life started yet!
“I know it’s still fresh,” I began to say, “but what was your family like?”
Alec smiled slightly. “It’s not that fresh. I’d been in that room for centuries. But my family was a beautiful one. My dove, Bridgit and my babe Shirley. Bridgit was the kindest women yeh’d ever meet in yer entire life. And boy could she cook a rabbit stew.” I looked over to Alec to see a ghostly tear stream down his face.
“How’d you guys meet?” I asked him.
“We met huntin’. I never liked people much, so I lived out in the highlands away from villages. I’d never met anybody out huntin’ before. The only people I knew were the ones in the surroundin’ villages that I sold me pelts and meats to. So, when I saw that woman, I was a bit surprised. Turns out we were trackin’ the same buck, and I had gotten to it before she had. Yeh should have heard the way she yelled at me. Despite the curses and threats, I couldn’t get over her beauty. I couldn’t say a word the whole while she yelled at me.
“Finally, when I could say somethin’, it wasn’t a curse or threat back. I had asked if she’d marry me right then and there.” Alec let out a short laugh. “I was young and foolish back then. Of course, she turned me down, but agreed to let me take her to a local pub for a drink. I eventually got me way of course. We were married once we both turned nineteen and had our babe when we turned twenty. We had the same birthday by the way. It made celebratin’ a lot easier.”
“How old were you when you met her?”
“Sixteen.”
“Where were your parents?”
“They had died when I turned thirteen. I was on my own since then.”
I let out a low whistle. “You’re made of different stuff than most of the people I know.”
“Whadya mean?”
“Most people I know still live with their parents and couldn’t function out on their own.”
“Most Scots can live on their own by the time their ten,” Alec stated proudly.
“Huh,” I said.
“By they way, what kind of accent is that?”
“American, why do you ask?”
“American? Well, it’s the same accent the man in the mask had.”
“How many centuries ago did you say you died?”
“Around nine.”
I sat there, astounded. Nine hundred years in that dank room, staring at his charred corpse. That’s hell.
“Well,” I managed to say, “that guy wasn’t from America if that’s the case. America was founded only a couple hundred years ago, so the accent didn’t exist before then.”
“It must have existed. How’d he have one if it didn’t exist?”
“He could have just made up an accent that didn’t exist so he could better hide himself in case he ever came across you again.”
“Maybe.”
We sat in silence again, looking into the fire.
“Ya should get some sleep,” Alec said. “I’ll keep a lookout for beasties that go a bump in the night.”
I yawned. “Okay, thanks.”
As I fell asleep, I heard Alec whispering silently to himself. It sounded like a prayer almost. Just before I drifted off to sleep, I caught the words, “I miss yeh, my dove”.
Chapter 3.
For the rest of the trip, I survived off acorns, wild berries, and rabbit meat. It was definitely healthier than eating ramen and beef jerky. However, when I got back to (Redacted) the town I had been staying in, I noticed that I had lost a few pounds.
“Yeh must feel a lot better,” Alec said to me. He had been walking beside me the entire time. “Purgin’ that poison from yer system.”
“What poison?”
“Those noodles ya insist on eatin’. I could feel it the minute I started sharin’ yer body.”
“It’s not poison, it’s delicious.”
“Regardless. Yer body is beginnin’ to recover. Yeh should eat more natural foods.”
“You sound like my mom.”
He winked at me.
“Shouldn’t you like hide or something?” I asked him.
“Why?”
“Because the locals would get freaked out if a ghost was walking next to me.”
“Huh. Good point.” Alec closed his eyes and scrunched his face in concentration.
“What are you trying to do?”
“Turn invisible.”
“It’s not working.”
“Well no shite, ya dolt.” He threw up his hands. “I dunno what ta do.”
“Maybe try going inside me.”
Alec looked at me funny. “I didn’t take ya ta be a fagagala.”
What? “I’m not a whatever that is. I’m saying, what did you do to become visible in the first place?”
“I had enough of yer shite, so I stepped outa ya ta give ya a good talkin to.”
“Well try stepping back in me.”
“Huh, sure.” Alec stepped close to me and reached out to touch me. As soon as he did, his outline turned all fuzzy. Once he actually touched me, it was as if his body was sucked into me like I was a vacuum and he was a cloud of dust.
“Well, that sorts that out,” I stated out loud to nobody in particular. I felt Alec’s approval in my head.
“Can you say anything while you’re in me?”
I felt his disdain for my phraseology, but nothing else.
“Guess not.”
I walked down the main street and into the tavern where I was staying. The rest of my gear was in my room. I began to pack up my things. I needed to get home as soon as possible. Too many weird things have happened to me over the past week and I needed some normalcy. A nice home cooked meal would be nice. Who knows? Maybe I’ll go for a bowl of Wagamama ramen. My mouth began to salivate just thinking about it.
Alec stepped out of me. “What are yeh salivatin’ for? More of that garbage?”
“You shut your mouth,” I told him, aghast at his sacrilegious talk. “Wagamama ramen is a godsend.”
“Whatever. Why are yeh packin’? We need to find the masked man.”
“It’s been nine hundred years, he’s probably long dead.”
“That thing wasn’t dead yet.”
I pondered that for a moment. “Touché. But you said he had an American accent? He could be in America.”
“But didn’t yeh say he probably made that accent up? America wasn’t founded when I was murdered.”
“Yeah, that was just a theory. Plus, I only have fifty bucks left, so we won’t be able to stay here much longer anyway.”
“Fifty bucks is kind of a lot. Are ya sure yer right in the head?” Alec asked.
It took me a moment to realize that he thought I was talking about buck as in the animal. “No, fifty bucks as in money. That’s what Americans call their money.”
“What happened to gold?” Alec asked. “Copper, silver. Proper currency.”
“Listen, those…” I gave up on trying to explain. “A lot’s happened in nine hundred years, okay? That’s just what we call our money”
“Okay, okay,” he held up his hands. “Where is America anyway?”
“It’s across the Atlantic ocean.”
“The what ocean?”
“The Atlantic ocean.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “That’s right. You have no idea about any of that do you? Well, over the past nine hundred years, humanity has pretty much explored the entire Earth. You wanna see a map?”
“Of the world?” Alec asked, somewhat taken aback. “I would very much like ta see that.”
I rummaged in my backpack and took out a world map. I spread it out for Alec to examine. While he gaped at that, I plugged in my smartphone to charge. It was dead for a while, so it took a couple minutes to turn back on and get to a descent percentage.
“So those nutjobs that were sayin’ the Earth is round were wrong,” Alec said.
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“The Earth is flat. Look at this map. This proves it.”
“No no no no,” I said. “The Earth is round. Here, look.” I went and grabbed my smartphone, unlocked it, and pulled up Google Earth. “See this?” I asked as I swiped around the zoomed-out Earth display.
Alec jumped back. “What is that witchcraft?”
“Woah, Alec, chill. This is just a phone. It gives me access to a lot of information and lets me communicate with people in an instant.”
“So, it is magic,” he hissed.
“No, it’s not. It’s science, technology. You know how to read and write, right?”
“Of course. My ma and pa taught me themselves.”
“This is like the ultimate book and letter combined into one thing. It uses metal and electricity to do it.”
Alec looked a little less spooked. “I still think it’s magic.”
“Alec, you’re a ghost that can make my hands hot enough to melt flesh, but you can’t accept humans are smart enough to make something like this?”
“Ya might have a point there.”
“Anyway, I’ve got to rearrange a flight so that we can leave tomorrow.”
“I’ll pretend like a know what yer talkin’ about.”
“Sounds good.”
A half hour later and my flight was rebooked for tomorrow morning. I hopped into the shower and wound up throwing away my ruined shirt. I stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror. There was a shallow cut along my chest that had already healed, but left a long scar the entire width of my chest. I inspected the rest of my body, looking for anything else, but only found the flabby skin of somebody that’s lost a bunch of weight fast. My brown hair was still brown, and my blue eyes were still blue. Alec had spent that time poring over my map, amazed at its detail and scale.
“Would you mind if I stepped down to the bar for a drink?” I asked Alec.
“Of course,” he said, still looking at the map.
“Alec, I need you to get in me.”
He whipped around. “First off… wait what’s yer name?”
Shit, I even forgot I hadn’t told him my name. “It’s James Mason, but just call me James.”
“Okay, first off James, stop sayin’ for me to get inside yeh. Just say…meld. Second, why the hell do ya need me ta hold yer hand at the bar?”
“I don’t, but I don’t know how far we can travel apart. I want to hold off on experimentation until we get back to my home.”
“I guess that makes some sense. But until we get to yer home, don’t eat anymore of that poison. Not until I get a good sense of what cuisine is like nowadays.”
“Fine, now let’s go. I’m hungry.”
Alec and I melded together, then I walked down to the bar. I sat at the bar and ordered a burger and a pint. It cost me damn near twenty dollars for it all, but I needed some comfort food. Luckily this place got a lot of American tourists and they took American currency. While I waited for my meal and I nursed my ale, I noticed there was another American sitting next to me. He had black hair, cut into a buzz cut. He wore a baggy brown coat and loose-fitting jeans. He was a little older than me and very lean from what I could see. He was either drinking a glass full of vodka, or it was just water. Judging from the size of the glass, I assumed it was water.
“How’re you liking it here so far?” I asked him.
“It’s good,” he replied, but didn’t follow up with a question of his own. Guess he didn’t want to talk.
I looked around the bar to see if there was anybody else that would talk to me, but my eyes landed on the most grotesque looking human on the planet. It had grey, wrinkly skin and no hair. Its eyes were blood red and it had pointy ears. But the weirdest thing of all was that it was putting the moves on some women. Then it hit me. That thing probably wasn’t human. Whatever was happening with me and the ghost obviously lets me see monsters.
I shuddered and began to down the rest of my drink. That caught the attention of the guy sitting next to me.
“Did you see it?” he asked me.
“See the grey skinned---” I began to say but he clamped his hand over my mouth.
“Yes, that,” he said in a low toned voice. “I didn’t know there was another Seventh Son here.”
“Another what?”
“Another Seventh Son. It looks like you don’t know what you are, do you?”
“I don’t know what a Seventh Son is if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to you once I deal with our grey skinned friend here. What’s your name?”
“James Mason,” I said.
“Okay, James. Watch and learn.”
With that, he grabbed his drink and walked over to the table where the grey skinned thing was.
“Excuse me ladies,” I heard the Seventh Son say. “Would you mind if I had a word with my boyfriend?”
I almost choked on my drink. That was a great move to clear out those women. The women made their excuses and walked away, one of them actually sitting down next to me.
“What’s the big idea, man?” the grey skinned thing rasped.
“I know what you are,” the Seventh Son said. “And I know what you were trying to do to those girls. I also understand you have a weakness to white oak. How about we talk more about this outside?”
“No, we do it he---” the grey skinned thing began to say but stopped abruptly.
“We do it outside.”
“Fine, it’s cool man. Whatever you say.”
I looked over my shoulder and the Seventh Son gestured for me to follow him. I stood up, leaving my drink and followed him outside into an alley. It was dark out now, and the only light was coming from an incandescent light flickering from above the doorway.
“Listen man,” the grey skinned guy said, “I’ll do anything. Just let me go.”
“You and I both know I can’t do that,” the Seventh Son said as he took out a gun and screwed on a silencer. “Why don’t you tell our friend here what exactly you are and what you were planning on doing with those girls. I’ll make your passing quick and painless if you do.”
“Please, don’t do this,” the grey skin guy rasped, sobbing.
The Seventh Son pistol whipped the grey skin guy. “Explain.”
“Fine, fine,” he sobbed. “I’m a lesser vampire of the house Volkihar.”
“What were you planning on doing with those girls?” I asked.
“I was going to suck out their blood..”
I was shocked.
“I, Colt Decker of the Seventh Sons, sentence you to death. Have you any last words?”
“My brethren will avenge me. My spawn will seek vengeance for their father’s death, and they shall have it,” the vampire hissed.
With that, Colt pulled his trigger, and the vampire burst into ash with a pop like a balloon.
“I thought vampires could only be killed with wooden stakes?”
Colt smiled. “Those are old methods. And the wooden stake had to be made out of white oak. Nowadays, we use white oak splinters in a resin bullet designed to shatter on impact like a hollow point bullet. Very effective against vampires.”
“I see.” The whole ordeal I just witnessed had me shaken up.
“Come with me. Your burger’s on me. And a couple more drinks too. We’ve got a lot to talk about. But first, I need to check something.” He took out a large k-bar and held it up. “Let me see your arm. Don’t worry, I’m not going to cut you.”
I raised up my arm and he pressed the k-bar to my skin. Nothing happened. He took it away and still nothing. “Good. I was checking to make sure you weren’t possessed by a ghost. If you were, magic would have begun to seep out of you into the iron and left a nice red welt on the skin in contact with the knife. It’s a good thing too, or else I would have had to kill you,” he said with a smile, clapping me on the back and leading me inside.
“Well, that’s good,” I said. The thing was, I was pretty sure that I was possessed by a ghost.
Chapter 4
The two of us were sitting at the bar, discussing what just happened. I was eating my burger, which had arrived just as we got back inside. I could feel myself getting lost in what had just happened. I agreed the vampire needed to die, but it seemed sort of human… well it acted human at least. I was having trouble stomaching the execution style killing.
“You see,” Colt said to me, “vampires aren’t the most dangerous monster to deal with, but they are probably the most common. They won’t drain the victim dry like you see in movies. Instead, they drink their fill and let their victim go on their way. That alone wouldn’t merit such drastic measures like you saw me just do. They would definitely need to be killed, but not so abruptly as that. Vampires tend to create a thrall, that is they turn people who’s blood they drink into near perfect obedient servants.”
“Do vampires have the same needs as other… men?” I asked, starting to see where Colt was going with the whole thrall concept.
“They do,” Colt replied. “That’s probably why that vampire we saw was going after those women. He was a bit of a horn dog.”
“Why am I just starting to see these monsters now? I’d never seen anything like that vampire before.”
Colt looked at me peculiarly. “Ordinary people don’t see monsters like a Seventh Son does. We see them since birth” He could see the confused look on my face, so he clarified. “The seventh son of a seventh son can see monsters as they truly are. It’s the same case with the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter.”
“Well, I’m an only child,” I said.
Colt frowned. “There are some rare instances where if a person is attacked by a monster, they become slightly more sensitive to the supernatural. But that would only extend to being able to hear ghosts and get a bad feeling around vampires. However, these are not well documented events, at least by the Seventh Sons. We don’t know the full extent of what happens to those attacked by monsters and survived to tell the tale. Were you by chance attacked by a monster recently?”
I shuddered at this question. “Yeah. This giant humanoid thing. It was covered in red scabs and had huge claws and red beady eyes. It attacked me about a week ago.”
Colt’s eyes widened. “That sounds like a Wendigo.”
“Was that what it was called?” I asked, feigning ignorance. Alec had told me what it was.
“Yeah. How on earth did you escape?”
“Uh, hmm, I don’t really remember,” I said, trying to avoid talking too much about what happened.
Colt’s eyes narrowed. “You’re hiding something. Only a trained Seventh Son or a Resurrection Man could have survived a wendigo. You aren’t a Seventh Son, that’s obvious. And you aren’t a Resurrection Man either.”
“What’s a Resurrection Man?”
“It’s a person possessed by a ghost. You don’t need to know too much about them yet. For now, just know that you aren’t one of them. Now since you are obviously hiding something from me, you are going to have to come with me for questioning.”
“What? Why?”
“You can see the supernatural yet are choosing to hide from me as to why you can see the supernatural. You obviously don’t know a ton about the supernatural, but you are not telling me the whole truth. It is the duty of a Seventh Son to fight the supernatural, and if you can artificially see the supernatural without a ghost, we need to study you.”
Should I just come clean? I could feel Alec disagreeing with me. I think he was right. This guy obviously didn’t like ghosts, so I should just keep it a secret for now. “What if I don’t want to go with you?”
“I can always take you in by force.”
I pondered that for a moment. If he took me in by force, I probably wouldn’t have the chance to escape. If I went in willingly, it would be a blow to my pride, but I might be able to escape his custody. “Fine, I’ll go along with you. But I have no money for a new flight and mine leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Where to?”
“Logan airport in Boston.”
“No shit. We can just take the Red line to HQ once I bring you home.”
Son of a bitch. Of course they’d be in Boston.
“Great,” I said.
We sat there in silence for another moment or two. “I’ll see you in the morning then,” Colt said to me. He got up and left the bar.
“Alright,” I said to myself. I kept on eating my burger and decided tonight was a good a night as any to get completely drunk. I could feel Alec’s delight at the thought. So, with that, I began to imbibe only the best of ales and spirits, making sure it all went on Colt’s tab. I could only remember snippets of what happened that night after the bar fight. There was some singing that somehow Alec partook in. Nobody seemed to notice, which looking back made sense. If these were all normal people, then what Colt had told me meant they wouldn’t be able to see him anyway. Also, I was chatting up a fairly good-looking girl, but my next memory jumped to me throwing up in the same alley where Colt had executed the vampire. Alec had joined me in this endeavor, but he only managed to dry heave (he had nothing to throw up). Apparently when I got drunk, it affected Alec the same way.
In the morning I woke up with a terrible headache. It wasn’t the worst headache I’d ever had, but it was easily in the top ten. Alec stood up amidst a pile of debris in my room.
“Jesus,” Alec said. “Last night was brutal. And now me head is splittin’ right down the middle.”
“You have a headache too?” I mumbled.
Alec tried picking up a bottle of whiskey in my room, but his hand passed through it. After looking slightly disappointed he said, “Yeah. I would normally have drunk twice as much ya drank last night, but it seems yer a light weight.”
“Whatever,” I replied, grabbing my head. “I need some breakfast.”
Alec brightened up at the thought but got glum again when he realized he couldn’t eat it. “Well, it’s a nice greasy breakfast for yeh then.”
My stomach turned at the thought. “What? No. I was thinking of having a piece of toast.”
Alec walked over to me and put his arm around my neck. Strangely, I could feel his touch. “Listen, yeh obviously haven’t dealt with many hangovers.”
“You know I’m in college, right?” I asked.
“I don’t really know what that is, so listen up. Yeh need some nice greasy pork sausage and two good fried eggs with plenty of salt and pepper.”
My stomach growled at the thought, but not in an unpleasant way. Maybe Alec had a point. “Fine, I’ll give it a shot.”
“That a boy!” Alec exclaimed. “I’ll turn you into a proper Scott yet.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Down in the bar area, breakfast was being served. Alec was walking down next to me, shaking the tiredness from his eyes. I guess him being a part of my body meant he felt what I felt.
Colt was down there waiting for us, looking at a piece of paper in his hands and shaking his head. Shit!
“Alec” I whispered. “Meld.”
“Oh, shite,” he said and melded with me.
I continued my decent down the stairs and sat next to Colt.
“Did you really have to spend that much money last night? Five bottles of whiskey and a whole keg of ale?”
“Did I buy that much?” I asked, impressed with myself.
“Yeah, you did. Apparently the entire bar enjoyed the profits of my labor too.”
I laughed. “Oh yeah,” I said, remembering myself buying a round of drinks for the entire bar.
“Did you even drink all that whiskey?”
“Are you referring to the four and a half bottles still in my room?” I asked sheepishly.
“Jesus,” Colt muttered.
“Hey, you’re the one forcing me to come with you. The least you could do is buy me a couple drinks.”
“You could just tell me what really happened with the Wendigo.”
I almost said not gonna happen but caught myself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, really.”
Colt just shook his head. “Let’s get going before we miss our flight out of here.”
“Just let me get some breakfast first.”
Colt smiled. “I moved up our flights. You should have woken up earlier if you wanted some hangover food.”
While I wasn’t very happy about not getting breakfast at the bar, I managed to get some food at the airport. McDonalds was literally everywhere on the planet, and a nice McMuffin set me straight. The flight itself was uneventful but took forever. Luckily, I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night so I slept for a good portion of the flight. By the time we got to Boston, it was early afternoon.
I went to collect my meager luggage, which was just a suitcase, while Colt called up his ride for us. I dragged the suitcase behind me towards the pickup area with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I had no idea what the Seventh Sons used as transport, but hopefully it was something cool. They seemed like they had a descent amount of money all things considered.
“Where are you?” I asked Colt over the phone. We had exchanged numbers on the flight.
“I’m at the pickup area in front of the terminal,” he responded.
“I’m at the pickup area in front of the terminal. I can’t see you.”
“Look for the black Honda Civic.”
I guess it wasn’t anything cool. “I see you.”
I hung up and walked over to him, not hiding my disappointment.
“What’s wrong?” Colt asked.
“You guys are like a bunch of Van Helsings, but you drive the most average cars on the planet.”
Colt smiled. “Trust me, there is nothing about this car that’s average except for how it looks.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mocked. I could feel Alec’s confusion at all of this. He was probably overwhelmed by all of this. First the airport terminal, then flying, now a metal car. It was a lot to take in when you mostly knew forests and hunting your entire life.
“I’m taking you to your house first,” Colt told me. “Enter in the address into my phone’s GPS.”
“I’d rather enter it into my phone.”
“Do as you will. I’ll remember the address when we get to your house regardless.”
“Then I don’t want to go to my house,” I replied stubbornly.
Colt turned to me, looking at me intently. “We don’t hold humans hostage. The only reason I would go to your house is to get you. Whether you go back to your house or not, I will find you anywhere you are. Now stop being stubborn and let me take you home.”
“Fine.” Talking to Colt always made me feel like the immature one. Talking to Alec made me feel like the inexperienced one. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to college. It didn’t seem to have prepared me for this weird world I’m being thrust into. I entered my address into Colt’s phone and we began to drive to my house.
“By the way,” I asked, “What do you do with the good monsters?” I asked.
“Good monsters?” Colt questioned.
“Yeah. Like the vampire. There must be other things out there that aren’t necessarily vampires or wendigos. There have to be good monsters.”
“There are no good monsters. They are always looking to use humans to their advantage. Whenever a Seventh Son comes across one, we are sworn to destroy them.”
“Well aren’t humans always looking to use other humans to their advantage?”
“Humans don’t use other humans as food.”
“Some do.”
“And we kill those humans with no remorse.”
“Do all monsters use humans as food?”
I could see Colt getting flustered next to me. “No, not all monsters use humans as food. But every monster is seeking to use humans for some end or another. Selkies make humans fall in love with them to harvest magic from that love. Boggarts seek to scare humans to harvest magic from that fear. Poltergeists seek to trap humans and instill endless fear to harvest magic from that fear. The list goes on. The Seventh Sons seek to put an end to those monsters.”
That sounded like a bunch of propaganda to me. “Have you guys ever thought to talk to these monsters before you kill them?”
“They are always trying to kill us first.”
“Did you ever think that’s because you guys always shoot first and ask questions later? Your reputation must precede you by now.”
Colt just sat in silence. Good. Maybe I was on to something.
We remained in silence for the rest of the car ride. Colt came to a stop at the curb in front of my house.
“Expect a call from me sometime tomorrow,” Colt said to me.
“Okay.” I got out of his car and grabbed my suitcase, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as I did. I walked to my house with a big grin on my face. I couldn’t wait to have a big dinner with my Dad and stepmom. My stepmom married my Dad when I was five. My birth Mom had died giving birth to me. But, my stepmom might as well be my real Mom. She treated me like I was her own.
I opened the door to be greeted by my Dad. He was a hefty man, always wearing a plaid shirt and suspenders. He was shorter than me with neatly combed brown hair and a big bushy mustache.
“Ah, my boy!” he exclaimed, wrapping me in a bear hug. “We didn’t expect you back for another week.”
“Yeah, I was feeling a little home sick,” I replied. It was only a half truth. I definitely needed some normalcy in my life, although looking back, this definitely wasn’t a normal trip home for obvious reasons that will be apparent soon.
“Well, your mother is out getting some groceries. I think it’s a good idea that you and I tidied up for her until she gets home.”
“Sure thing.” Dad and I got to cleaning up the kitchen, vacuuming, folding laundry, just the works. After about an hour, I collapsed onto the couch. I was exhausted.
Dad sat next to me. “I see you’ve lost a few pounds,” he laughed.
“A diet of acorns and rabbit will do that to you,” I smiled.
“A diet of what?” he asked, concerned.
“I ran out of food on one of my hikes, so I was eating acorns and rabbits for about a week.”
“How on earth did you catch the rabbits?”
Alec chose that moment to jump out of me and smile. “Yeah, Jamie, how’d yeh catch the rabbits?”
Dad didn’t notice a thing, staring intently at me.
“An acquaintance of mine taught me some tricks to survive in the woods,” I told him, which wasn’t a complete lie.
“Acquaintance my arse,” Alec said. “Try a supernatural ghosty thing,” he laughed.
“Anyway,” I continued. “Any idea when mum is getting home?”
“She should be here any---” he began to say when we heard the car horn sound outside. “That would be her!”
We both went outside to find Mom with an arm full of paper bags, obscuring her face from view. “Help me out boys?” she asked, not at all surprised to see me home. She was wearing a flower-patterned sundress. She was always pretty and was one of those people that never seemed to age. I could see her jet black hair over the bags of groceries.
“Sure thing, love,” Dad said.
I grabbed a bunch of groceries and ran them inside. Alec was making faces behind my mum while she packed them. I set them down next to her, slapping the backs of Alec’s legs to get him to stop.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “I’ll stop.”
Mom went rigid when Alec spoke. She turned around and stared right at him, her face contorted with fear. But then she looked at me and it was my turn to get scared. My stepmom didn’t have any irises or whites of her eyes. Her beautiful green eyes had turned into black marble-like eyes in her head. “Mom, what the hell is wrong with your---” I began to say, but she shushed me.
“We’ll talk about this later,” she hissed at me. Not in a monstrous way, but in a disconcerted motherly way. She walked back outside, kissed my Dad while he brought in a load of groceries, and continued out to her car.
Alec looked at me. “Yer mum has some pretty messed up eyes.”
“They shouldn’t look like that,” I replied.
“What was that, boyo?” Dad asked me.
“Nothing Dad, just thinking out loud.”
“All that time by yourself in the woods knocked a few screws loose,” he laughed to himself.
“More than you know,” I said to myself.
Chapter 5
“Mom, what the hell!” I exclaimed to her in the car. It was nighttime and she had taken me to get some ice-cream after dinner. I was on high alert the entire time.
“Yeah Ma, what’s the deal with yer eyes?!” Alec also exclaimed.
“And how can you even see Alec!” I said, equally as energetic.
“Calm down boys,” she said to us. “I’m not human as you’ve already guessed. I’m a selkie.”
My blood ran cold. Colt had mentioned selkies. “Mom. I know what a selkie is.”
She pulled the car over so she could look at me with those black eyes. “Tell me, what’s a selkie then.”
“They make people fall in love with them so they can harvest magic,” I said to her.
“So, you’ve met one of the Seventh Sons, huh?”
“How’d you know?”
“Because of your explanation. They only look at the supernatural as impure and bad. They never look at us as living breathing entities that have individual personalities.”
“So, what’s a selkie then?” I demanded. I was angry at her for taking advantage of Dad. She was beautiful and any man would want to be with her, but she chose my Dad of all people.
“I understand why you’re mad,” she continued. “Based on the Seventh Son’s explanation, I’m and evil, detestable creature in your mind. Yes, I gain magic from your love and your father’s love. Yes, I use that magic from time to time. But I never forced your father to love me. I never forced you to love me. And I loved your father from the beginning. I never set out to harvest magic. Only the most detestable of selkies do that.”
“There are selkies that do that!” I exclaimed.
“Yes, there are. Just like there are humans that murder and rape. Just like there are human women that are gold diggers.”
I sat there in silence.
“Selkies are seal women,” she said. “I use magic to shed my seal skin and reveal my woman form. The only thing left are my eyes which I use magic to hide.”
“Like a vampire?”
“You’ve seen a vampire already?” she asked worriedly. It reminded me of her before I knew she was a selkie.
“Yeah, that’s how I met Colt, the Seventh Son.”
“Vampires are notoriously ugly things, so they have to use that cloaking spell much more extensively than I do. But yes, we use similar magic to hide our more revealing features.”
“Why did you choose Dad?”
“You don’t choose who you love, son,” she said to me. “You know how we met.”
“And that’s it? You just fell in love with Dad? You had no ulterior motive?”
“Well, of course I had ulterior motives. I needed a man with a stable job and could satisfy me in---”
“Okay! I get it, point made,” I said.
“But I’m a supernatural being and not many people can handle the truth. It was easier just to let your father believe I was a human, but he knows I’m anything but a normal woman.”
“Do you know any other supernatural monsters?”
“Fist off, don’t call us monsters. We’re supernatural beings. There’s no need for name calling.”
“Sorry,” I replied.
“Second, I do. I know a good number actually.”
“Is there some kind of underground market or settlement they all inhabit?”
“Of course not, don’t be silly. Something like that would be easily be overrun by the Seventh Sons. No, we integrate into human society. There are bars and areas with backrooms that are primarily reserved for supernatural beings and the Resurrection Men, but they are always easily abandoned if the need arose.”
“The Seventh Sons are the bad guys?”
“Not necessarily. They are mostly just misguided with a bunch of fanatics running the organization, but they do serve a just enough cause. I’ve also heard of the boy Colt before. He’s ruthless when it comes to vampires and their like.”
“Oh.”
“But he’s young and his opinions aren’t set in stone like the older Seventh Sons. You may be able to change his mind.”
“Maybe,” I said, thinking to the conversation me and him had in the car. I had argued him into a corner.
“But tell me how you met Mr. Alec over here,” Mom gestured to the spectral blue form of Alec who was sitting in the back seat.
I told Mom about the fortress and the wendigo, then Alec begrudgingly told her about the man in the mask and how Alec had died.
“I see. That man in the mask was most likely one of the immortal supernatural race or a rogue Resurrection Man that’s long dead by now. There is a good chance he killed you in the way he did to make you an extremely powerful ghost. For what reason, I have no idea.”
“What?” Alec and I asked.
“You see, ghosts are a unique form of supernatural being. They were human once, but then died very tragic and gruesome deaths. Their deaths are often well documented and there are patterns recorded by the Resurrection Men that show a link between how they die and the power they receive once they die.”
“Who are the Resurrection Men? What patterns?” I pressed. I wanted to know more.
“I’m going to get to that, relax. First, I need to explain to you the concept of possession. When somebody gets possessed by a ghost, they aren’t directly controlled by that ghost. It just shares the same body as the body’s host. Alec is possessing you right now.”
“Is there a difference in our abilities when we are melded and when we aren’t?”
“Melded?” she asked inquisitively.
“Yeah, melded. Alec?” I looked over at him.
“Fine, ya twat,” he said, reaching for my shoulder. He was sucked into my body.
“Oh. No, there is no difference in your magical or physical abilities. But when he’s merged, nobody that could see the supernatural would be able to tell you were possessed unless they touched you with iron.”
“That doesn’t work on us,” I said to her.
“What? Of course it does.”
“No, it doesn’t. Colt has no idea I’m possessed. He doesn’t know why I can see the supernatural.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, seriously look.” I looked for something iron, but Mom had it squared away.
“Let me see your hand.” She pulled out a pocketknife. It was old and looked like it was handmade.
“Okay.” I gave her my hand and she pressed the flat of the blade onto my palm. She pulled it away and nothing.
“Impossible. You can use magic though. Your hands turn hot enough to melt flesh, you told me yourself.”
“I know. I have no idea why---” I began to say but a tapping on the car window interrupted us. The most grotesque creatures were standing outside of the car on the sidewalk. We were in South Boston near Dorchester, so I was expecting some punk in a hoodie. But the humanoid creatures standing outside out car were a sight to behold. Their mottled puke green skin was pulled taught over their face, revealing the skull underneath. Their eyes were blood red and they also had little horns jutting out of their foreheads.
“Goblins,” Mom hissed.
They were smiling, wearing hoodies and sweatpants. They also had on gold chains. I frowned. They were dressed just like people of questionable motives would dress like in Dorchester. They were smiling, making obscene gestures at Mom. I felt my blood boil slightly at the disrespect.
“Let’s just get out of here,” I said to Mom.
She nodded and tried to shift the car into drive, but the engine cut out. I looked to the goblins to see them grinning maliciously. One of them gestured with their index finger and the doors unlocked. They ripped open the doors, punched me hard in the face and began to drag Mom out of the car. My head bobbed as my vision became blurred. That was a really hard punch.
“Shut the bitch up,” one growled and I heard them slap Mom hard. I felt anger begin to flood through every vein in my body. I smelled something burning and looked down at my hands charring the seat. I grabbed the seatbelt and ripped it apart, my hands melting through it like butter. The goblins were too preoccupied with Mom to notice me.
I quietly got out of the car, my hands getting hotter and hotter. I could feel Alec itching to sink my hands into the goblin’s skulls just like with the wendigo. My hands began to burn the cuffs of my hoodie I was wearing, which sent an acrid smell of burning polyester into the air. One of the goblins sniffed the air and turned around. I quickly punched him in the face, leaving a burn mark in the shape of my fist on his face. He let out a scream of pain and doubled over, gripping his face and writhing on the ground in pain.
The other demons turned their attention away from Mom towards me. They looked at me then to my hands and began to back away. “It’s a Resurrection Man,” one of them gasped in their deep gurggley voice. “We’re sorry,” he pleaded. “We didn’t know you owned this selkie. Please forgive us.” The demons got on their hands and knees, heads bowed.
I stood there, shocked. I didn’t know what to do. My blood was still up, and I wanted to kill these assholes, but I wasn’t expecting them to give up like that. Mom stood up, tucking in her shirt and kicked one of the demons in the face… hard. He went sprawling on the ground.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she replied, wiping the blood off her mouth. “They just groped me a little, but nothing else.”
“What should we do with them?”
“Watch and learn,” she said, mimicking Colt back in Scotland. She proceeded to scratch each of them in the backs of their heads with her nails. When she was finished, she turned back to me. “They’ll be dead within the hour. We should go.”
“What?” I asked. I looked to the demons to see them sullen and forlorn.
“They will be dead within the hour. Let’s go,” she reiterated, this time more firmly.
I got back in the car, reaching for my seatbelt and remembered I had burned through it. My hands had returned to normal at least.
“What were those things? Why were they attacking you? What did they mean when they said they didn’t know that I owned you?”
“You have a lot to learn about our world. We’ll go to a bar and I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine and we’ll explain it there.”
Chapter 6
The bar was crazy. It was small, but absolutely crazy. There were insane potions being brewed behind the bar as well as normal drinks, monsters and things of every shape and size were walking around. There were what looked like witches and ogres, weird snake ladies and lizard men. There was rap music being played kind of loud and magical trays were flying orders to tables and booths.
We were stopped at the entrance by the bouncer. He was at least seven feet tall, very muscular, and had a horn sprouting from his face where his nose should have been. His skin was grey and tough looking, like a rhino’s. “Hi Trish,” the bouncer said to Mom. “Who’s the kid?”
“He’s my step-son,” she said over the music.
“How’d he find out about us?”
“A goblin attacked him on the streets. It affected him rough and he can see most of our kind now.” I guess me being possessed was a need to know basis kind of thing.
“I see. You take care of those scumbags?”
“Yeah. They’re probably dust piles by now.”
“Good. Go on in and try to break everything to the kid slowly.”
“Will do. Helga should help with that.”
“That she will,” the bouncer said, stepping to the side.
Mom brought us to sit next to a lady in a booth that looked pretty enough, although she had a large wart on her nose. She had long strawberry red hair that flowed around he shoulders. She looked to be a little older than me.
“Honey, this is Helga. Helga, this is my step-son James,” Mom introduced us.
“Nice to meet you,” I shook her hand.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said in a sweet voice. I couldn’t help but like her instantly. The wart was tough to get past though. She could see me looking at it and blushed. “Sorry about that. It’s the mark of a witch. The Resurrection Men put it on me when I was being… processed.”
“You’re a witch?” I asked her.
“I am. Naturally disposed to collect magic from large crowds of humans. I can weave magic pretty well too.”
“Why did the Resurrection Men put a mark on you?”
“So they can keep tabs on me. They don’t like their power being rivaled by a lowly witch like me, so they make sure they can identify me easily. If it wasn’t for this mark, they would only be able to tell who I am by touching me with iron.”
“Why iron?”
“Iron is the best conductor of magic. It sucks the magic out of you leaving a nice big welt where the magic left you,” she explained.
“Oh.”
Helga turned to Mom. “Trish, why’s your step-son here? I thought he was ignorant to the supernatural.”
“He was until he had a run in with a wendigo out in Scotland.” Mom explained my predicament with Alec.
“So you can blend in with the Seventh Sons?” Helga asked me.
“I can.”
“You can also blend in with the Resurrection Men.”
“I guess. Nobody’s told me what they are yet.”
Helga’s face went hard and stoney. She looked like she aged ten years. “The Resurrection Men are---” she began to say but stopped when she heard a commotion at the bar’s entrance.
There was a loud explosion and the bouncer suddenly came flying back into the bar, completely knocked out and destroyed a table where he landed. What looked like two men came walking in, but as the dust cloud from the explosion settled, I saw that it was a man and a ghost.
“We need to leave, now,” Helga hissed at us. “That is a Resurrection Man,” she finished, pointing at the man and the ghost.
The man and ghost sat at the bar and began to converse with one another. As they did, at least half the bar’s patrons left.
“Why is everybody leaving?” I whispered to a frantic Helga, but she was too preoccupied with downing the rest of her drink and leaving.
“That’s a Resurrection Man,” Mom repeated to me. “Whenever a Resurrection Man comes in, trouble is bound to follow.”
“Shouldn’t we get out of here then?”
“That we should,” Mom agreed and began to get up. As she did, the Resurrection Man happened to turn around and looked directly at us.
“You, selkie,” he said after studying the two of us. “Why have you brought a human in here?”
“He’s my step-son,” Mom explained. “He was attacked by a goblin on the---” the Resurrection Man held up a hand to stop her.
“That’s enough right there. Where is his mark?” My what?
Mom looked at me for help, but I didn’t know anything about any mark. “He hasn’t shown me it yet,” she finally said.
The Resurrection Man looked at me. “Come here.”
“Listen,” I began to say, “I don’t want any---” but the man pointed his index finger at me and gestured for me to come. As he did, I was pulled by an invisible force all the way across the bar to him. The man wore a black rain jacket and jeans. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and his hair was greying. The ghost sitting next to him was dressed like an eighteen hundred aristocrat.
“Do you have a mark on you? Something you recently got after your interaction with the demon?”
“There’s a big scar on my chest,” I said to him.
“Hmm,” the man said. “Hold out your arm.” Again?
I did as he said and he took out an iron rod, making sure to keep the portion he was touching in a cloth. He inspected the burn marks on my sweatshirt, then shook his head slowly. He laid the iron across my forearm, held it there for a moment, then took it away. Nothing. He seemed surprised.
“You don’t seem to be possessed. What do you think of all this?” he asked, gesturing around me.
I looked around, seeing the magical serving trays flying too and fro, the supernatural creatures hastily finishing their drinks. “It’s definitely a lot.”
The man nodded. “Have you ever heard of the Seventh Sons?” It hit me just as he asked me that question. He thought I was the seventh son of a seventh son.
I didn’t know what to say, so I decided to tell the truth. “I have.”
“You know where I’m going with this don’t you,” he said.
Mom stepped forward to try and intervene, but the Resurrection Man performed a complex hand movement and Mom suddenly couldn’t talk.
I looked from Mom back to him.
“Let me ask you again. You know where I’m going with this, don’t you.”
“I do.”
“Well?”
“I’m not one of them if that’s what you’re asking. From what I’ve heard, they’re a bunch of fanatics.”
“I see.” The man reached into his jacket, took out his wallet, and handed me a card. “We’ll keep in touch. Let me know if you want to talk.” He turned away from me and continued to sip his drink. I stood there for a moment, not sure what to do. “You can leave now,” he said over his shoulder. “Oh,” he said again, weaving his hand in another complex movement. “I suppose your mother would like to speak again.” With that, I turned and walked right out of the bar with Mom in tow. Helga was standing out there as well.
“That seemed to go well enough,” Mom said. She looked at me and smiled. “You handled yourself well.”
“Thanks,” I replied, feeling myself shaking a little bit.
“Do you see why we don’t like Resurrection Men now?” Helga asked, taking a nip out of her purse and dumping it into her mouth.
“I do,” I replied. “Why do they act like that?”
“They see themselves as the rulers of the supernatural. They keep tabs on any humans that know about us and have meticulous records of each one of our… abilities. And they take liberties with their power too.”
“That’s why those goblins thought you owned me,” Mom explained. “Resurrection Men tend to partake in the enslavement of supernatural beings.”
“What power do they have over you guys!?” I exclaimed. “You’re a witch,” I said to Helga. “Aren’t you supposed to be magical and stuff?”
“I am, but I only have a certain amount of magic that drains away as I use it. I need to replenish it every week or so at a carnival or amusement park.”
“Why?”
“Let’s walk and talk,” Helga said. We began to walk down the street.
“Won’t we run into more goblins?” I asked.
“They aren’t as common as they used to be. The ones you met were the uneducated scum of the goblin race. I’m not too concerned with seeing them again. Plus, they’re terrified of Resurrection Men, which you can easily pass as. As for your other question, that’s just how magic works. Magic is derived from emotional energy. The more emotions there are, the more magic I get. So, carnivals are great for passively collecting magic while also having fun.”
“I see. Does that mean I need to do the same thing?” I inquired.
“The funny thing with Resurrection Men, and by extension you, is they get magic from their ghost. Their ghost has a lot of pent up anger and trauma that is constantly being converted into magic by that same ghost. In essence, a person possessed by a ghost has a lot of magic at their disposal. It’s just that humans aren’t well suited for channeling magic and it consumes a lot of energy on their part. They need to eat a lot of food to compensate for it.”
As she spoke, my stomach growled. I had a lot to eat for dinner, so I was surprised that I was hungry again. I looked at Helga and Mom, both of whom laughed.
“I guess you need some food?” Mom asked.
“Yeah,” I smiled.
“I know the perfect place!” Helga exclaimed.
Helga led Mom and I down the twisting and winding streets of South Boston to a small restaurant. There was what looked to be a Minitour manning the grill.
“Hi Helga,” the Minitour grumbled.
“Hey Leo!” Helga exclaimed. “One burger, give it the works. Also, half and half on the onion rings and fries,” Helga added.
“You got it.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just give me one of those pain potions next time you got one. My back’s been killing me lately.”
“Sure thing.”
We all sat at one of the tables.
“You know,” Helga said. “James could play both sides. He could be a Resurrection Man and a Seventh Son.”
Mom, who was looking out the window into the night, snapped her attention back to the table. “Absolutely not.”
“I know it’ll be dangerous,” Helga continued, “but think about what we could learn. Think about what James could do to both those organizations if he was working in both.”
“I won’t have my son needlessly put in danger just so we are harassed a little less. The Seventh Sons are mainly focused on the dangerous supernatural and the Resurrection Men can be dealt with easily enough.”
Helga’s face contorted in a grimace. “Unless you’re a witch and they have iron shackles. Not all of us have the same good fortune as you and have secreted neurotoxins underneath your nails.”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t care. He’s my son and I won’t have him put in danger like that.”
“Mom---” I began.
“No, that’s enough,” Mom said. “I won’t have you be put in danger like that, and that’s final.”
We sat in silence for a couple minutes, none of us certain what to say. Thankfully the minitour brought my food. I dug in, not really tasting it as it slid down my gullet. I didn’t realize how hungry I had been until just now.
“Don’t worry,” Helga said to me as I ate. “From what I’ve seen, the more you use magic, the less of an impact it has on your metabolism.”
I mumbled my acknowledgement through a mouthful of food. By the time I finished, Mom stood up to leave.
“Let’s go,” Mom said to me.
“Are you sure?” I asked, looking at Helga.
“Yes.”
I began to get up, feeling somewhat torn because Helga had just got me a delicious burger and I didn’t want to just up and leave her like that.
“Don’t worry about it James,” Helga said to me. “Think about what we talked about. I’m sure this isn’t the last time we’ll see each other.” It definitely wasn’t the last time I saw that witch.