Chapter 7 – The Unforeseen
Sarah’s Tale
It all started with vision. Until a week ago we’d had no progress on tracking the supply chain. Hell, we don’t even know how it’s made. Chemically it’s extremely complex and should require a full blown pharmaceutical company to make it; it’s not something made on the street or grown in your backyard. From reports it gives you a high like no other, causing people to have disturbing visions. That’s how it got its name. Take too much and you get the munchies. As in you want to kill and eat all the people around you. An hour later you’re zoning, staring off into space, never interacting with anyone again.
Obviously, we can’t have this spread further. Right now it appears to be a local drug only, which is odd. But no other cases have shown up outside this city. Our first major breakthrough came by pure chance; a traffic accident of all things. I got the call around 4am.
“Hello?” I answered in a slurred voice. I had stayed up too late the previous night finishing the endless paper on yet another failed attempt to secure the source of vision. At this rate I might be replaced on the task force.
“Officer Clifford?” Came a young man’s voice over the speaker. It was far too refreshed and alert for this ungodly hour.
“Yes. What do you want?”
“Uh…” The voice stammered, probably not used to gruff attitudes from those he contacted. “I was told to contact you about a traffic accident.”
“I don’t work in that area. Don’t waste my time. I work in the drug enforcement task force, specifically on vision. Unless there is some relevance in this conversation, I’m hanging up.” There was a lot of attitude for my promotion to the task force at the insanely young age of twenty-one. I kept getting a few pointless calls and interruptions during my days every now and again, but this was ridiculous.
“Umm, sorry … I was just told… errr.” The kid was obviously taking orders from someone. “Who told you to call me?” I said, taking pity on the fellow.
“Detective Branson.”
Immediately, I became more alert and I actually started to pay attention. Branson was an older gentleman, in is early fifties who moved here from Mexico nearly twenty years ago. An expert on the drug trade, he has been invaluable in the vision task force. He knew most of the supply chains and who the major players were, although his extensive experience had reached its limits on this case. We’ve been working together on this for the past six months, ever since I was fresh out of the police academy. Back then I had been cocky and arrogant, convinced I could personally end the war on drugs. Carlos showed me how much I didn’t know. If he told them to contact me it was serious.
“Give me the details,” I told the dispatcher, rolling out of bed, already turning on the light and gathering up my things.
“I don’t know a lot. Just that there was an accident and Branson told me contact you immediately. You can call his cell, he’s on the scene right now.”
Giving the young man a grunt for a goodbye I hung up the phone to call Carlos. I listen to the phone ring on the other end, my heart pounding. Perhaps something was finally going my way. Five long, excruciating rings later the phone was answered.
“Branson,” the man said.
“Hello Detective, it’s Sarah. I heard you might have something interesting.”
“Ah Sarah, how many times I have I told you to call me Carlos.”
“Ok, Carlos,” I said, sighing. “What do you have.”
“Well on the surface just a nasty traffic accident. Semi-truck driver fell asleep at the whee,l colliding with a rundown station wagon. Luckily no one was killed and both drivers were taken to Greenbroch hospital.”
“Go on,” I said. Carlos Branson was a nice enough guy but he sure did love the sound of his own voice. I think he liked drawing things out just to get on my nerves.
“The officers on the scene found a rather large supply of a yellowish crystals that you might be interested in. It was being transported by the kid in the station wagon.”
My heart skipped a beat. “How much?”
“Well, hard to say, it has already been sent down to the station for evidence. If I had to guess, at least fifty kilos.”
I whistled. That was a lot. Far too much for someone to use or even sell without distributing it.
“Was it cut yet?”
“Not sure,” Carlos answered. “If I had to guess, I would say no. Too much in big bags for it to be cut already. Won’t know until the lab boys examine it.” If it was uncut then that means he probably got it from the source… the place it was manufactured!
“Place that kid under guard. I’ll head to the hospital right now.”
“Been doing this longer than you, kiddo,” Carlos said. “I already placed two uniforms on him at all times. He’s messed up anyways both legs got crushed in the accident. The only way he is going any place is in a wheelchair.”
“Thanks, Carlos,” I said.
“No problem I’ll meet you there.”
“If you need to go home to Jeanne I can handle this alone,” I said. I had met Jeanne a few times at social gatherings after successful raids. Nice girl but very protective of her husband, even from himself.
“Nah, Jeanne understands. Her family was killed by the cartels before we left Mexico. She hates the trade almost as much as I do.”
“I can understand that. I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” I said. Looking down I saw that in my distraction I had put my underwear on outside my pants. “Make it forty-five minutes. I need coffee.”
Forty-three minutes later, with a massive mug of coffee I was strolling into Greenboch Hospital. Glaring fluorescent lights blinded, me sending a sharp, throbbing pain through my temple. Taking a big swig of coffee, I felt the pain immediately lessen as a grinning Carlos greeted me by the reception desk. A short stocky man with wide shoulders, he still had the strength and vigor of youth despite his advancing years. Brown of skin with a thick black goatee, he dressed like a casual businessman ready for a meeting. That night he wore a gray pin-striped dress pants with a loose fitting gray overcoat that hid his shoulder holster nicely. The professional dress style was ruined a bit by the worn Cubs baseball cap he wore everywhere. He said it made him look more American but I think it was to hide his growing bald spot.
“What, no coffee for me?” He asked in a slightly pleading tone.
“No,” I said protectively holding my cup.
“You wound me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Jeanne asked me not to get any more, remember? Part of your health regiment.” Personally I consider coffee to be the missing part of the food pyramid and eventually science will realize their terrible mistake.
“I was hoping you would forget that,” Carlos said crestfallen.
“No chance. I do so love drinking coffee in front of those who have none. I consider it therapy. So tell me about the driver.”
Carlos grabbed a yellow folder which I hadn’t seen earlier from under his arm, flipping it open. “Karl Wentworth, 19 years old, part-time college student at the local community college. Lives at home with his mom in a low income housing project.”
“Criminal history?” I asked, sipping more coffee.
“Nothing too bad. A few vandalism charges and a drug bust when he was a juvenile. Then four years ago his father died from some type of gang violence. His grades improved and he signed up for classes at the community college.”
“Hmmm,” I said, considering. Didn’t sound like a hardcore street dealer. Perhaps he was just running errands to pay for school or helping out his mom. I said as much to Carlos.
He nodded his agreement. “I was thinking the same.” He turned around, strolling casually down the hall, taking firm even strides. I matched his pace.
“We might be able to get some useful intel from him. Like where he get the drugs from and where he was bringing them
to.”
“True, but be careful. We don’t want him demanding a lawyer. Then we will get nothing out of him for days. Damn lawyers, and I thought we had bad vermin in Mexico,” Carlos said hotly.
We made a left turn down a busy hall where men and women wearing starched white uniforms rushed to and fro with clipboards in hand and stethoscopes dangling from their necks. A short distance away a green curtain was pulled in a semicircle around a bed with two policemen in uniforms standing alert just beyond it. As we approached the curtain it was suddenly pulled back as a man with thick-rimmed glasses exited, a nurse trailing behind him. I made a gesturing motion for him as I neared. He closed the curtain before addressing me.
“Hello, Doctor Berg,” I said reading his name tag. “How is the patient?”
“He’s in a lot of pain and we just gave him some Morphine to help him relax.”
“Can I talk with him?” I asked.
“Can this wait? The patient has just been through a traumatic experience. He needs time to recover both psychically and psychologically before he is interrogated,” Doctor Berg said in a disapproving tone.
“I’m afraid this can’t wait doctor. It is critically important. Lives depend on it,” I answered.
With a defeated sigh he said. “Fine. Just keep it brief.” Nodding, I pulled back the curtain and entered with Carlos who shut it again, giving us the illusion of privacy.
Carlos wasn’t joking when he said that the kid was messed up. Both legs were immobilized with steel rods and lots of white bandaging. His lower body almost looked like a mummy except for his bare feet, which stood out swollen and a bit purplish. Moving my gaze from those bloated feet I took in the rest of Karl.
He was young, like the profile said, with bronze skin and dirty blonde hair. Reminded me of a California surfer. He wore a dirty and ripped long sleeve shirt with a picture of something I could no longer make out on it. His right arm was handcuffed to the bed with an IV dangling from it. His jaw was tight and his eyes were a bit watery, obviously still in pain. His eyes were alert and aware for now. Guess it depends on the morphine dose.
“I’m Officer Clifford and this is Detective Branson. We would like to ask you some questions regarding your late night trip.”
Panic and genuine fear filled his face. I could almost see him count the number of years he would be spending in jail.
“I swear I didn’t know what the stuff was, man! I just picked it up and delivered it! I never saw the contents!” He probably meant it. What better way to keep the secret of its origin.
“I believe you,” I told the kid who sagged in relief, though mistrust lingered in his eyes. “I need to know everything. Where did you pick it up? Where were you going to drop it off? Who did you get it from? Everything.”
“Man, you have no idea what they will do to me!” Karl said.
“Would you rather go to jail for the next ten years? Only to have them kill you on the inside. I’ve seen it plenty,” Carlos said. “Your only hope is to tell us all you know.”
“What will they do to you, Karl?” I asked.
Stark terror filled his face. I could see it build to the point where I was afraid he might have a stroke right in front of me. His breathing became rapid, eyes flicking back and forth like he was afraid the walls were listening to him.
“Calm down and tell us. We can help you.” I urged. It was either my stellar personal skills or the morphine but a few seconds later he visibly relaxed.
“He said he would give my soul to Melephos,” Karl said.
“Melephos? What’s that?” Carlos said.
“I don’t know,” Karl replied, looking white.
“Talking about souls, was he playing the part of some Jamaican witch-doctor or something? Describe this guy to us,” I said.
“I never got a clear look at him. He always wore thick black robes that covered his face and his entire body. He had a really sophisticated voice, like he usually spent his day with royals. Everyone around him was scared of him, I could tell. Even the really big guys got scared when he mentioned Melephos.”
“Listen Karl. You’re a good kid,” I said. “Stupid for getting involved with this kind of thing but a good kid all the same. These guys control people with fear. They act all weird and spooky, trying to make you think they got some genuine power and can hurt you at the slightest whim. You want to know the truth? They can’t. They just lie to frighten you and then boss you around without taking any risk themselves. They are cowards, plain and simple.” I could see my argument giving Karl pause. He was considering it.
“You know, man,” Carlos said imitating the kid’s speech pattern. “Dudes like that will just run and hide. They will have no idea you talked. Hell, they don’t know where you are or anything yet. What will happen to your mother if you go to jail? If they are as bad as you say then they will hurt her and you no matter what. Your only choice to cooperate. We can protect both of you.”
“Ok,” Karl said reluctantly and I gave a mental cheer. “I pick the stuff up once a week, delivering it to five different locations. My route is all around downtown I make a big circle, dropping off a bag at each spot and head home a thousand dollars richer. Easy money man.”
“Where do you get it from?” I asked, more interested in the source than the destination but I’ll take those also.
“A storage facility off 23rd street near the corner of Charles Road. I pick it up there every Saturday and do my rounds.”
I stared at him hard. Was he screwing with me? That was just ten blocks from the police station I worked out of. Disbelieving, I looked to Carlos who gave me a slight shake of the head.
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yeah man. I pull up to the place and bang on the door. One of the tall guys opens it real quick then shuts it again. A garage door opens and I pull in a few seconds later I get five bags filled with I don’t know what and a grand in cash. I take off and they shut the door behind me. I don’t see them again ‘till next week.”
Questions filled my mind. This was getting weirder by the second. “So they operate and maybe manufacture this drug near the police station in an expensive part of Chicago?”
“What do you mean by tall guys?” Carlos asked, having his own questions.
Turning his head back and forth he decided to answer my question first. I guess that means I’m more intimidating. “I don’t know anything about them manufacturing. I just get the stuff.” Turning to Carlos he said, “Yeah they got really tall guys working there. Like bigger than basketball players, man.”
“I don’t care about the tall guys! What did you see in the storage facility? A chemistry lab? Beakers? Naked chicks sorting stuff? WHAT WAS IN THERE?!” I demanded. Karl flinched at my tone and Carlos gave me a take it easy look.
“I...I…I didn’t see anything like that. They just had a few big metal shipping containers on the inside. Nothing else.”
Shipping containers could hold a chemical lab, although it would be a small one. Could this be the source? It just seemed so wrong, like I was missing a critical part. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to relax.
“Karl, I’m sorry for getting angry but these are very bad … dudes.” I said, the world feeling strange in my mouth. “They have killed lots of people with the stuff they’re making. Entire families wiped out from a single night of excess. Please try to remember any detail that might help.” Karl just sat there looking scared and shaking his head.
“Alright I need to confer with my associate here. We will be right back,” I said, pulling Carlos out by the arm. As soon as we were beyond the bed I shut the curtain again, leading Carlos down an unused hall.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t see why he would lie to us. But it makes no sense. Maintaining a facility there would be risky.”
“And expensive,” I added. “That?
??s a good neighborhood and a respectable area.”
“Where better to hide something than in plain sight,” Carlos said.
I took a big pull from my almost forgotten coffee cup. “True but it doesn’t feel right,” I said, savoring the bitter taste my mouth.
“Aye. Shall we go take a look?” Carlos asked.
“Let’s get a warrant first and go in hardcore. I don’t want these guys getting away on a legal technicality or being alerted that we are on to them.”
“Do we have enough for a warrant?” Carlos asked.
“Should. We have drugs with intent to distribute along with Karl’s statement. We have enough to storm the place,” I said.
“Ok. But if we are going to do that we might want to get the drop off locations as well. Might be able to wrap up this whole thing in a day.”
I smiled at him. After all this time the thought of wiping it out in one great swoop brought a shiver of excitement down my spine. Turning back we returned to the busy patient area. The two policemen were still out in front of the closed curtain. Nodding to them I pulled the curtain back only to find Karl gone. Well not completely. Two severed feet rested in the middle of the bed, staining it red. It was so fresh that blood was still pumping out of the stumps. All four of us just stood there stunned, watching the feet bleed. It wasn’t until a passing nurse screamed that our shock was shattered.
Dropping my coffee I grabbed the nearest cop by the shirt pulling him in close. “WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?” I screamed incoherently. He managed to decipher my meaning well enough.
“I don’t kn… know,” he said weakly, eyes still on the feet.
Pointing a trembling finger at the feet which had finally stopped bleeding, I bellowed right in his face. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” People stared and then, noticing the feet, began shouting. I lost track of things then. People screamed and shouted everywhere. Pathetic search attempts were made, including looking under the bed and an alarm was sounded that I couldn’t hear over all the commotion. At one point Carlos was dragging me off the officer who had somehow gotten a bloody nose as doctors and nurses swarmed the scene like ants. It took over an hour for me to calm down enough to articulate properly.
“Fucking criminal Houdini, that’s who we are dealing with,” I declared, leaning against Carlos’ squad car.
“Yup,” he said, sipping from a cup of coffee that he somehow got. “What now?”
“We cancel the show,” I said, straightening. “Let’s get that warrant and strike right now. Also, have the confiscated drugs moved to a secure warehouse. I don’t want them disappearing too. One more thing.” I took his coffee away from him taking a deep swig. “You’re not allowed to have coffee.”
It took all my good press along with Carlos’ added testimony to get the warrant. Four hours later we were outside the storage facility with a dozen members of SWAT, not including Carlos and myself. Strapping on heavy Kevlar vests, we did a quick firearm check. I felt woefully under armed with my pistol, compared to the SWAT team with their big rifles.
Exiting the van the swat leader Sandborn gave instructions to surround the place, covering every possible entrance and exit. Simultaneously a dozen men in identical body armor jump out of the van. I noticed Karl was right as soon as I exited the van. It was just a well-kept storage facility in the nice part of town with multiple garage doors and freshly painted walls. I almost wished a van would burst out with a gunman in the rear taking poorly aimed shots at me. At least then I would know this is right place. Looking at the building nothing felt right. The cost of the building alone must have been staggering and the risk of discovery astronomical. But they did it anyways. I’m not sure if we were dealing with a genius or a complete retard. A bad feeling welled up in the pit of my stomach at the sight of the building and I just knew something was wrong. Sandborn looked at Carlos, who gave a single sharp nod. Grabbing his radio clipped to his shirt collar he pressed a button. “Go! Go! Go!” He yelled in such a commanding tone I was tempted to join them.
Taking his own advice he burst through the main entrance with two others along with Carlos and me bringing up the rear. The raid was precision, resembling a Rolex watch, as all entrances were breached simultaneously with shouts of ‘POLICE!’ and ‘HANDS IN THE AIR’. Lights danced back and forth in the dimly lighted area as the flashlights built into the guns swung back and forth to various targets. It was beautiful and I allowed myself a brief delusion that after today it would all be over. The drug war won, at least on a small front. Bursting into the warehouse right behind swat I got a good look at the action. The area was just as Karl described it. Vast with steel beams crisscrossing in the rafters and large metal shipping containers coated in a layer of dust, sitting like ancient forgotten pillars. At first I was worried that the crates would provide a type of maze for escape. But I needn’t worry. The SWAT members swung back and forth covering all places with practiced efficiency.
Heading to the center with Carlos and Sandborn the feeling of wrongness was multiplied a thousand fold as I got a good look at our query. They stood before us with no look of alarm or any real concern at all. Of course with how tall they all were it might be difficult to make an impression upon them, even with a tank. Towering over all of us they made me feel like I was standing in a forest of great pines. Each one of them was over ten feet tall, with arms and legs that were too long for their bodies. But what stuck out the most were the masks. They were both life-like and extremely fake, with overly exaggerated large, black eyes and tiny mouths that a baby spoon would barely fit in. Among these giants the comparably smaller man was surprisingly difficult to miss. Robed in dark clothes he portrayed a sense of power and domination, as if the universe itself should bow before him. Everything was wrong.
The smaller man took little notice of us as we moved, surrounding the giants. His posture portrayed annoyance at our interruption as if our raid was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him. With a graceful step of a lifetime dancer the cloaked figured moved out of my line of sight. That was when everything went to hell. Later, I asked the two surviving SWAT team members if they saw him but they were so traumatized that they only cried, not responding to me at all.
It must have been hiding in the shipping crate. That’s the only place something that big could hide. It was something from a nightmare and afterwards I did my best to convince myself that it wasn’t real. A twisted combination of bone, stone and flesh, it defied imagination. I’ve been a fantasy fan since I was a child and nothing I’ve ever read or seen could describe this creature. The best I can do is to liken it to an immense, canine golem. It dwarfed the nearby tall men in masks, who shrieked in a wobbling musical tone before taking cover. Nightmarish, it had sections of gray hexagonal stones covering its hide with white cartilage connecting them that glistened in the light as the muscles beneath them flexed. Large, blackened talons decorated each paw that could shred a horse with a single swipe. A segmented, sinewy tail balanced a head the size of a small car with large, milky white eyes that darted around impossibly fast. Yet the most horrific aspect of this creature was its teeth. It had none. It had countless rows of human like fingers lining every millimeter of its immense mouth. There had to be thousands of them with callous tips and well-manicured nails. They twitched and writhed eager to pull something in. I think it was the combination of something so familiar in a creature so alien that made it so terrible, a vision from hell. I’ve dreamt of it every night since. Those rough fingertips touching me all over pulling me into my death.
Absolute fear consumed me. I ceased caring about anything except surviving. The drugs, upholding the law, doing my duty, all of it was meaningless in the face of such a monstrosity. The creature charged with a frenzy usually reserved for starving wolverines. Two died in the first second. Torn apart by large talons that shredded through body armor like tissue paper. We
were all frozen, transfixed by the impossible. Even as guts spilled across the floor and the stench of blood and torn organs filled the air, we did nothing. Guns were held by all those men and not a single shot had been fired when its maw snapped shut on Carlos, engulfing his entire upper body.
Carlos, my friend and mentor, screaming as he was devoured whole, and I just sat there, watching him die. I didn’t try to pull him out or shoot the monster. I just stood there slack-jawed. It wasn’t a quick death. Those eager fingers pulled him in and pushed him down its throat. He never stopped screaming the entire time. Even after it swallowed him completely, and over the roar of gunfire we finally unleashed, I could still hear him screaming along with the slow crunching of bone.
Noise blended together and the world became surreal as echoing booms shook the warehouse. It was chaos. Men scrambling all around, firing everywhere. Unbelievably, most of the shots missed the huge-ass Canine golem, not that it would have helped. Explosions shatter the world as boxes blew apart, scattering bags filled with yellow crystals. Shouts and stifling fear filled the air, making it hard to breathe. People were dying. I wanted to help but as unidentifiable pieces of fleshy gore flew near my head all heroic thoughts fled, and so did I.
Running anywhere I had to to get away from the horror. I ran for all I was worth, breathing heavily as the sound of the dying men grew more distant with each step. After an unknowable time my senses returned slowly and I found myself outside, curled up under the SWAT van, My eyes wet with tears. Now a new emotion overwhelmed me at the realization at what I had done; shame. I ran without even trying to help my friend or those around me.
Blinking the tears from my eyes I rolled out from under the van, listening intently for sounds of gunfire or anything human. Nothing. Silence was thick in the air as I slowly made my way back inside, fear pulsing strong. I had to see. I cautiously peered around corners and held my breath, expecting that the beast was lurking around. My heart thudded so loudly that I was afraid it would give me away. Slowly I inched back toward the center, finding absolute carnage.
Torn and bloody bodies were scattered everywhere with bits of red, sticky flesh decorating the walls and crates. The thick stench of blood with the sour smell of shit permeated the air, making me vomit on the spot. All thoughts of stealth and caution were forgotten as my already relatively empty stomach regurgitated its contents. Lucky and impossibly the monster was gone. Standing upright I wiped my mouth, gazing around. How could such a monster just disappear? I wanted to believe I imagined the creature but there was plenty of evidence before me to suggest otherwise. Stumbling in shock I found two surviving SWAT members. Sandborn and someone else whom I didn’t know. Both were worse off than me. While not physically harmed something important inside them had snapped. I could tell by looking in their eyes, the lost, haunted look of someone staring into the abyss.
Backup arrived twenty minutes later, finding me wandering around aimlessly. The others curled into fetal positions, crying. Perhaps even worse than all the deaths was the fact that all the drugs were gone too. Such a waste of life without even a little bit to show for it.
Hours later, wrapped in a blanket outside, I was sipping some brandy mixed with coffee, my hands shaking, when I was grilled by my superiors. The others were in no condition to give any statements, their mad shrieks echoing throughout the entire place. So I lied the best I could. Told them it was several starved bears they were keeping locked up that got loose. I told myself that was all it was. In my panic I misunderstood what I was seeing. Perhaps they had strapped chucks of granite to its hide. I’m not sure if they believed my story but it did look like an animal attack. I tried to believe it myself.
The day stretched out before me like a long barefoot march across burning sands. Every step was agony but fortunately I was numb to most of it. People blamed me for the disastrous raid, as if I should have predicted we would fight an unnamable horror. Mostly I just kept a vacant look on my face, staring past them. I just wanted to sleep and cry. Finally I was able to go home with the promise of another long day tomorrow but it didn’t matter. Nothing did. I had failed everyone, Carlos most of all. Once I got home I collapsed on the bed. Exhaustion and guilt consumed me as I drifted off into a nightmarish sleep.
I awoke around 3 AM with a start. At first I thought it was from the nightmare. I dreamt of Carlos screaming as he was pulled into the maw of that creature by delicate lady fingers, each nail painted a bright happy yellow. In the dream the crunching of bone resonating loudly and it continued as I woke up. Frightened and in the grasp on the nightmare I huddled uselessly under my blankets, holding in a scream that threatened to erupt from my very core. I was still in bed when my front door gave way, crashing into the wall. Adrenaline shot through my system as I realized what an idiot I had been. Frantically scrambling out of bed I fumbled at the nightstand drawer with trembling fingers as clear, heavy footsteps approached my bedroom door. I opened the drawer and grabbed my gun from inside. Instantly my nerves calmed as if it was a talisman to ward me from evil. I turned as my door opened.
It didn’t crash open dramatically nor did it slowly open as if by a monster sneaking up on a sleeping child. It opened casually like one would expect from a living companion, unrushed and not the least bit concerned about what was on the other side. In the doorway stood a tall, lean silhouette blocking most of the light from beyond. It was so tall that only its chest and abnormally long arms and legs were visible, the rest was still out of sight. It was one of the men from the warehouse nothing else could be that large. I didn’t bother telling him to raise his arms or to lay down with his arms behind his head, I just shot the fucker.
Firing two rounds in rapid succession, I could see a slight shudder from the body, but he had no facial reaction at all. The tall man took a non-rushed step back out of the doorway, clearing my line of fire as I stood dumbfounded. I’m sure I hit him. After the flash of the gun I could see nothing but darkness all around me. My palms grew sweaty as I waited for something to happen. Several seconds passed by as I took deep breaths trying to calm down. I was considering firing into that doorway when a silky, cultured voice spoke.
“Officer Clifford, I wish to have words with you. Would you be so kind as to cease shooting at my servants? They are most resilient to such attacks but they do find them irritating.” It was creepy that the speaker was utterly unconcerned that I was armed. I felt a burst of anger.
“Come on in,” I told the voice trying to sound braver than I felt. “I don’t like having conversations with people I can’t see.”
The voice laughed. “I will if you remain so uncooperative. You won’t like it if I do. I could have taken you already if I so desired.”
Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing that popped in my head. “Who are you?”
“My name would mean nothing to you. So why not, as a gesture of goodwill. My name is Solarkar of Primehouse Vanguise, disciple of Melephos.” No trace of guile was present in the voice as if this was a perfectly reasonable answer.
“Nice name,” I taunted to the unseen speaker. “I’m Sarah Clifford of house bullshit, high priestess of the porcelain god. Now what the fuck do you want?”
“You jest. No matter. Soon the truth will be clear enough to all. Do not stand in my way Sarah of house bullshit, or your fate will be more terrible than any other. Now for the purpose of my visit to your drab dwelling. Where have you hidden the vision?” His tone was cold, filled with menace and the promise of pain. My sight grew accustomed to the darkness and I could make out dim shapes in the area each one holding an unknown threat. Once again I considered just firing my gun blindly in a manic rage but I held myself in check. I lived in an urban neighborhood with good, friendly neighbors all around. I was certain that the police had already been called. All I had to do was stall and keep my head.
“The drugs from the traffic accident? Yea
h I know where they are.”
“Good then tell me now. I wish to conclude this business,” Solarkar said in a reasonable tone. “Can’t you just make more? I can’t get it easily for you.”
“The process is difficult, taking considerable time and effort. Give me what you took and I’ll leave you to your illusion of reality,” he said.
“It’s a bad drug. People who take it go insane. If you’re looking for a power play or money stick with meth. More returning customers. You need to work on your business model,” I said, hearing faint sirens in the distance.
“I’m not interested in your paper currency and I have power already. Give it to me now. My patience grows thin Sarah of house bullshit.”
“That’s crap. People like you are always after money and power. You’re just lying to yourself. Or have you been taking your own product?” The sirens were now closer, their screeching filling the room.
“Your kind is crude and limited in both mind and body, unable to grasp beyond your immediate existence. No wonder the ancient ones separated the worlds long ago. You would be extinct by now. I’m sure Melephos will rectify that in time.” Although I couldn’t see him, I could feel him smiling.
“Sounds like a real badass. Does he run your drug cartel?” For some reason Solarkar found this hilarious. He laughed at me and it was honest laughter as if I had said the funniest thing in the world. I couldn’t help but grin at the flashing lights now illuminating the bedroom.
“I win,” I told him, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Foolish child, let’s take this conversation somewhere more private,” he said, stepping into the doorway. He wasn’t tall like the others nor did he have that stretched look. I couldn’t see any features in the poor light but I didn’t need any to kill him. Leveling my gun at the center of the outline I started to put pressure on the trigger, exhaling as I was trained to do, when suddenly he vanished. It was astounding. One second he was there, then next gone without a trace. I just stared at the empty spot, speechless. Getting to my feet I inched toward the now empty door when my world collapsed.
Up until this point I could have rationalized and explained everything, even if most of it was ridiculous. But this destroyed every aspect of what I consider true. One second I was in my middle class home with an automatic sprinkler system and cable TV with trash pickup every Friday, then I was in a world of madness. Nothing made sense. Everything was wrong. The plants were alien and much too large, with shapes that made my head hurt. Towering buildings were replaced by trees so massive they put skyscrapers so shame with strange protrusions along their surface. Massive, fist-sized insects skittered around, crawling on rotting vegetation.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Solarkar asks from directly behind me. I was so taken by my surroundings that I forgot all about the men who violated my home. Spinning I faced my attackers leveling my gun instinctively at them only to have it crumble in my hand. Once a well maintained firearm it was now a twisted mess of rust and fungus. Looking at my assailants I seriously doubted my gun would do much good in any case.
The tall men were more like slim giants. I saw my original assessment of their height didn’t do them justice. Saying someone is over ten feet tall pales to the shear height when you’re up close to them. They had pale skin and were completely naked, looming over me casting, me into shadow. They had no gender, it would be about my head height and no way could I miss it. Craning my head up, I let out a piteous moan as I took in the rest of my assailant. He or it was so tall I couldn’t see his face he was just too fucking big. I wasn’t afraid yet, I was too stunned to be afraid, but when he grabbed me with those long slender limbs all the terror of my situation flooded me like a typhoon. Effortlessly it pinned both my arms to my sides, lifting me easily as a child would a doll. It brought me up to eye level, studying me the way a dog breeder might a new pup. Screaming, I thrashed impotently in its iron grasp. It had a huge head the size of a watermelon with large, black, pupil-less eyes that seemed big even for that face. In contrast they had very tiny mouths and noses, even smaller than my own. They were completely hairless, none on their body or head, without even eyelashes or eyebrows to protect their sight.
He squeezed me slightly and I felt my ribs crack and my eyes bulge. I knew it could crush me if it wished. Losing all the air from my lungs, my screams were brought to an abrupt end as the giant lowered me closer to the ground to face Solarkar, my feet dangling in the air. He wasn’t as small as I first thought. He only seemed that way compared to the tall men. Slender, with an unnatural grace and beauty, he moved with absolute confidence, like royalty. A luxurious mane of shoulder-length, green hair caressed his face, augmenting his blue skin. He was very human like besides the hair, skin and the eyes…