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Authors: Randy Ryan C.; Chandler Gregory L.; Thomas David T.; Norris Wilbanks

MalContents (22 page)

BOOK: MalContents
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“You never saw her again?” It hurt Malcolm to ask.

“That’s right. Instead, I began to investigate the mysterious Cyrus Venice. It turned out, I could find nothing. That’s when I fell back on my knowledge of the occult.”

Malcolm felt as though he were living a nightmare. Never in his life did he have the slightest interest in the occult or the paranormal or whatever you called it, but now he was up to his neck in it.

“Did you ever find him?”

“In a way.”

“Oh, stop being so mysterious.”

“Sorry. It comes with the territory. We occult types are secretive by nature. It’s a necessity in our hobby. You know what the word ‘occult’ means, don’t you?”

“Yes. Go on.”

It was late now and the pubs and clubs of the town were closing. Malcolm stared at the dashboard lights and listened while Heinrich continued.

“I used a few different scrying techniques to locate him and eventually I had a hit.” Heinrich pulled a handkerchief from his coat and wiped his forehead.

“And?”

“Please forgive me but recalling this event still upsets me.” Heinrich turned into an underground ramp. He pulled a plastic card from his coat and inserted it into a reader. The striped gate in their path lifted and they drove into the garage. Heinrich’s parking space was on the second level. They got out of the car.

“Did you just hear something?” Heinrich said.

“The car doors slamming.”

Heinrich held up a hand for silence.

Malcolm listened.

The ramp was concrete gray with caged halogen lights lining the ceiling. The lot was about half full. At the far end, something ducked behind the bed of a pick-up truck. Malcolm nudged Heinrich and pointed.

Heinrich pulled Malcolm down by the lapel so he could whisper in his ear. “You see that door over there? The blue one with a 2 on it?”

Malcolm nodded.

“Run for it.”

They both set off at once. As they wove through the rows of parked vehicles, Malcolm could hear the familiar hissing sound from earlier that night.

The tall man.

They neared the door and Malcolm glanced to the side.

It
was
the tall man, and he was coming at them on all fours, his movements so unnatural.

Heinrich held the door open. “Quick. In here.”

Malcolm bolted past Heinrich through the doorway.

They were in a small vestibule with an elevator and a second door which led into the apartment building proper. Heinrich slipped a plastic card into a slot near the other door and pulled it open. They both rushed through and Malcolm closed the door.

Through the door’s vertical, reinforced window, the tall man appeared in the ramp doorway and slid into the elevator lobby, electric sparks sputtering from his gloves and shoes.

“Down here!” Heinrich shouted as he twisted a key in a door partway down the carpeted hallway.

The tall man pounded on the locked door and it sounded like he had fists of iron.

Malcolm ran to Heinrich and they both slipped inside the apartment. The smaller man threw the bolt and slid the chain into place.

Malcolm reckoned the door would not stand long against the monster chasing them.

On a stand next to the door was an urn. Heinrich reached into it and drew out a handful of salt. He sprinkled a thick line of the stuff along the base of the door. Then he grabbed a golden bell which had been sitting next to the urn and began ringing it. At the same time, he chanted in an unfamiliar tongue; it was similar to Latin but far stranger.

Despite the clanging bell and the chanting, Malcolm heard a scream in the hallway outside. He had never heard a human being scream like that before—with so much terror. He stepped toward the door but Heinrich shook his head and glared at him—and continued to chant.

The screaming outside the door stopped cold.

At the door came a fierce pounding. Malcolm thought the door would burst from its hinges as he watched it shake in its frame. But for the time being, it held firm.

Heinrich paced back and forth before the door, sweat glistening on his brow, never pausing once in his bell-ringing and chanting. In fact, he increased the tempo of both activities.

The pounding grew weaker until finally it stopped. And the familiar hiss, which sounded like some gigantic feline’s, faded away to silence.

Heinrich Dunkle stopped ringing and chanting. He pulled his handkerchief from his jacket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “It should not come back for a while.”

“How long is ‘a while?’”

“Oh, a few hours at least. The ritual I performed was potent. Demons can’t stand it. It’s like fingernails on a chalkboard to them.”

“I’ll have that tea now.”

Heinrich shook his head. “You look tired, my friend. Why don’t you wait until after a good night’s sleep when you’re refreshed? Besides, the daylight will work in our favor against these types.”

Malcolm dropped onto a cushioned bench near the door. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “How can I sleep knowing Violet is in the hands of someone who can summon demons?”

Heinrich had opened the door a crack and was peeking out. “Oh my God.” He scurried out of the apartment without another word.

Malcolm sprang up and looked out into the hallway.

In the hallway, Heinrich was hunched over a woman’s prone body.

Malcolm rushed down the hall and stood over them.

Heinrich stood. “My God.”

Malcolm shook his head and backed away.

Above the neck, the woman faced the carpeted floor, but the rest of her body faced the ceiling.

A Chihuahua sniffed at her unmoving foot and whined, its small body all aquiver.

“Are you still going to let me do this alone, Heinrich?”

“No. I must help you. I can’t let this happen. Even if it means I die or go mad. Personally, I’d prefer death.”

“Go mad?”

“When you are dealing with the
unnatural
—with things that do not fit into your earthly paradigm—there is a chance your mind will revolt and become unhinged. It has happened to many in the past. It will happen to us as well, if we are reckless.”

“What do we do about this poor woman?”

Heinrich looked up and down the hall, spying no one else present. “I suggest we place an anonymous phone call to the local police department on our way back to the hotel.”

“What about the tea?”

“I’ll grab it. Then we must go.”

Malcolm stayed in the hallway, looking everywhere but at the dead woman. Something touched his foot. He looked down and saw the dog looking back up at him and whining, one small paw placed gently on Malcolm’s shoe. He lifted the shivering dog, holding it and stroking it, trying to calm it. But he didn’t know which one of them was more nervous and scared.

Heinrich came out of the apartment carrying a vintage leather medical bag. The occultist closed and locked his door and approached Malcolm. He didn’t even glance at the dog. “Let’s go.”

Malcolm thought he should set the dog down, but he didn’t. Right now it seemed they both needed each other for comfort.

“I hope you have your bell and salt in there,” Malcolm said as they entered the elevator lobby and crossed to the ramp door.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. The demon is far away by now, plugging its ears with its fingers.”

They crossed to the car, got in and left the ramp, heading back to Malcolm’s hotel.

“Shouldn’t we try to find Violet this instant? You saw what that thing did back there; it was vicious and horrible. Who knows what else this Venice character is capable of?”

“He has a purpose for Violet so I am thinking she is still alive. He requires her musical skills for some reason—for this strange trio of his.”

“A classical musician who sends out demons when he feels people are getting too nosy. It doesn’t make sense.”

The streets were empty now. The Chihuahua was still whining and shaking, leaning against Malcolm for comfort and protection.

“You have a new friend I see.”

“Yes. I couldn’t leave it back there all alone with its owner dead.”

Heinrich did one of his shrugs. After the little man placed an anonymous call to the police using the pay phone outside a convenience store along the way, they finally reached the hotel and went up to Malcolm’s room.

Once in the room, Malcolm set the dog on the floor.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

“We sleep. I will take the sofa. In the morning: tea.”

Malcolm protested, but kept yawning throughout his argument. In time, he admitted it would be better if they set out after some rest. His body heavy from the exhausting, stressful day, he didn’t think he could sleep. However, once he was under the covers, with the dog curled next to him, it wasn’t long before he had drifted off.

“Rise and shine,” called a voice.

Malcolm’s eyes opened, but he closed them again because the sunlight coming through the windows was too bright.

“We must get moving and end this terrible business.” Heinrich said. “We will eat breakfast, get something for the doggy too, and then we will drink the Hindu tea.”

Malcolm ordered room service even though he didn’t feel much like eating. But once it arrived, he devoured his scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and coffee like a starving wolf. Heinrich ate the same meal and the Chihuahua had two strips of bacon all to itself along with a coffee cup filled with cold water from the bathroom sink.

After they finished eating, Heinrich brewed his magic tea with some hot water he had ordered with the breakfast.

“What do we do with it?” Malcolm said.

“Drink it and wait.”

Heinrich poured out two cups of the bright green liquid. He handed one to Malcolm and then held his own up. “Here’s to us. Good luck to my new friend—and myself—and I pray that the Powers watch over us and aid us in our quest.”

“Cheers to that,” Malcolm said and clinked glasses with the smaller man.

It tasted similar to teas Malcolm had enjoyed before, holding only a small hint of the exotic. He downed the whole cup in seconds. “Not bad at all.”

“No, it tastes good but you wouldn’t want to drink it unless it was absolutely necessary. Remember, if you start to think you are hallucinating, you are not. You’re merely seeing things that the normal eye cannot. Many gurus can see into other dimensions and other planes of existence with ease, but most of us require some assistance.”

Malcolm looked down at the dog, expecting to see something bizarre, but it still looked like a dog.

Heinrich got his bag. “I think we should be going. Do you have any weapons handy?”

“Weapons? No, sorry. I don’t carry an arsenal around with me.”

Heinrich nodded and opened his case. “Here. Put this in your jacket.” He handed Malcolm a dagger in a sheath. “It’s made of silver and works well against magic and occult beasties in general. In addition to its obvious purpose, it will serve you as a protective talisman as well.”

Malcolm slid the dagger into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Maybe we should have a gun too.”

“I don’t own one. Do you?”

Malcolm shook his head.

“Okay. Let’s go find your girlfriend.”

“I should drive. You know what we’re looking for; you can watch for signs.”

“We’ll try it. What about the dog?”

Malcolm looked over at the dog which was now sleeping on the sofa. “I’ll put more water in his cup. He should be okay till we get back.”
Or if we never come back, the maid will find and care for him.

The two men exited the hotel room.

Dozens of people crowded the hallway, silent, few of them acknowledging Malcolm and Heinrich, let alone each other.

“Busy day at the hotel I guess,” Malcolm said. “Must be a convention in town.”

“Look again, more carefully,” Heinrich said.

Malcolm did as directed and after a moment noticed some of the people surrounding them were semi-transparent. “What are they? Ghosts?”

“Right on the first try, but never mind that. You’ll see spirits everywhere until the tea wears off.”

They reached the elevator doors and Malcolm looked back in wonder. Some of the ghosts were walking right through the walls and others vanished and re-materialized in no discernable pattern.

The bell sounded, the doors opened and Malcolm was glad to see the elevator empty. “You know, I didn’t believe in any of this stuff until I encountered the demon, and now these ghosts. It’s a wonder everyone isn’t drinking this tea. You could find your long-departed relatives and have a long chat.”

“First of all, the tea is rare and expensive. Secondly, even if you
could
find a deceased family member still roaming the Earth, chances are they couldn’t see you because they exist on a different plane.”

BOOK: MalContents
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