vampire

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 6

by

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 6: My team dances with the devil

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“In my defence, in movies, bottles break really easily,” I said feeling sheepish. The bottle just sort of lay there at his feet.

“Did you really think a little holy water would stop the devil?” he asked incredulously. Then he picked up the bottle and unscrewed the cover. An extremely strong smell of olive oil, peppermint, and rosemary permeated the air. What couldn’t be smelled was the purified salt and iron. He laughed and said, “I am not a salad.”

“Oh, it wasn’t for you,” I replied.

“Who—” He turned in time to see Sylvie’s fist.

“Me, you asshole,” she said to punctuate the hit. 

I heard his nose break. He dropped the mixture, splashing it on himself. Where the liquid hit him, he burst into flames. The same thing happened when it hit the floor.

For one triumphant moment, I thought we’d won. Then the fire petered out and the devil reappeared next to his own body. He slow-clapped to rub it in and said, “I’m impressed. Beside myself, really.” I ignored his pun. “What was in that?”

“Extra virgin olive oil from the same tree species as the cross of Christ, rosemary oil, peppermint oil, salt, and iron shavings. All of which is blessed by six different religious leaders,” I said with a sigh. It was a sort of catch all, it should slow down ghosts, demons, angels, undead, Fay, and most things considered evil in western mythology.

“Let’s talk business then.” Luc smiled, his mouth looking two sizes too big.

“You forget that you have six knights in front of you,” Clifford quipped and tried to summon his sword. It didn’t work. “Um. Maybe we can negotiate?”

To give the devil his due, he didn’t seem angry and just chuckled. “Enough silliness. Everyone sit down!” His words were a command with magic behind it. The table and chairs all moved to fulfil his will.

Killing him didn’t work. It must be the building that’s the source of the magic, not him, I said to my team in mindspeak. None of them replied.

“Good deduction,” Luc said. “Mindspeak doesn’t work here. Same as your weapons, and any real magic.” 

“What do you want?” Sylvie asked, looking ready to punch him again.

“It’s simple, I have something you want and you have something I want.”

“What is that? Our souls?” Sylvie asked sarcastically. When he didn’t correct her, she rolled her eyes and said, “I’m an atheist.”

“Then you’re trading something for nothing.” A flourish of his hand had a contract appear in front of her, along with a comically long feathered pen.

Scoffing, Sylvie replied, “My wife explained to me that there are some actions, especially with magic, where the intent and the willingness to do the action is more important than the consequences. If I sold you my soul, even if there is no such thing, I would still have sold my soul and been willing to sell it. No way am I signing anything you give me.”

Luc squinted at her and said, “Aren’t you a cop?”

“Ex-cop and there’s a reason for that, which I won’t be sharing with the literal devil.” 

Flapping his hands dramatically, contracts appeared in front of everyone but Grant.

Mine promised me a life with the woman I loved and the ability to protect the world. It was tempting but my love would have to choose me or it wouldn’t matter. I pushed the contract away.

“What’s the matter Galahad? Not a good enough deal?”

“I’m far from pure and certainly not incorruptible, but your act doesn’t interest me.”

“Well, if I can’t make a deal with you, I’ll make one with one of the others.”

“No!” I ordered. “You have nothing we want other than our freedom.” I started getting up and added, “Your hospitality has been adequate but we must be on our way.” I focused all my energy toward the building in the same way I would for an Aether-creature and I felt the house pushing back.

With a comical pout, Luc said, “You’re free to go then. But this isn’t the end. I will have your souls.” He cackled and the entire house faded away, leaving us shivering in the forest.

“What? That was—” Sylvie started and I cut her off.

“No. Don’t! Just don’t.” I looked around but there was no hint that the area had ever been inhabited by anything bigger than a squirrel.

“Did you take care of whatever was in the caves?” 

“Actually, Grant did,” I said. 

Sylvie looked him up and down and didn’t say anything. I was having the same doubts that she was but there wasn’t anything I could do about it, yet.

“So was that my quest?” Sylvie asked. 

“Let’s head back to the hotel and lick our,” I looked around, “metaphorical wounds and go on from there.”

As I drove the van around the lake and back toward town, I heard Ursula tell Sylvie, “Some people get the sword before their quest, like me. I got the sword two months before anything exciting happened. Others get it after a show of bravery like Albert. And finally others get it in the middle. You’ll know when it’s over. You’ll feel more secure and safe with the sword.”

Sylvie sighed and replied, “It’s not over. There’s something we’re missing.”

I hit the brakes as hard as I could and swore.

In front of the van was something that filled me with terror. Looking at us bewildered was Popeye the Sailor man in glorious two-dimensional animation.

Clifford was the first to echo my sentiment but soon everyone but Sylvie swore in various languages. 

“It’s just a cartoon. You took on the devil? What am I missing?”

I was the first to explain, “Cartoon characters follow their own rules. They don’t care about things like real life or physics. They’re made by someone extremely powerful or a full-on rupture of the barrier protecting us from voracity of the Aether.”

“Dramatic much, cuz?”

“He’s saying that either we’re facing a mage of Merlin level or someone destroyed a part of the barrier in one of the places it’s the strongest.” Ursula said.

From outside with a bellowing baritone, Popeye said, “I’m strong to the finish ’cause I eats me spinach,” and flexed his improbably shaped arms before punching down on the front of the van.

Read Chapter 7 (July 2025)

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 5

by

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 5: My team enters the house of the rising sun

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

We stood in front of the whitewashed antebellum style house and despite the waves of heat coming off it, I shivered.

The sign read, “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.”

“Are we dealing with a sapient house, an Aetherborn version of the devil, or something else?” squeaked Robin, her eyes wide.

“That house is wrong,” Clifford said in disgust.

Laughing hysterically, Grant asked, “The house of evil is wrong? Oh really?” He sounded ready to run.

Clifford scoffed and replied, “No, the roof is wrong. Antebellum-style houses had a hipped or gabled roof; this one has more of a steeped roof which was neo-gothic. Although It is from the same time period.” 

“Very educational. Are we really going into that place?” Ursula’s voice was monotone but she looked nervous.

I looked them over and took a deep breath before saying, “I want you each to centre yourselves and tell me what your senses say about this place.”

They did as I said and after a few moments, Clifford said, “It’s old, really old. We might be seeing a hundred year old house, but it’s much older.”

“Good,” I said. “Grant?”

He replied, “It doesn’t feel like Fay magic but it doesn’t feel exactly like Aether either.”

“Excellent. Ursula, what can you tell me about the size?”

“It’s bigger than it looks. The outside is just a shell, the inside is massive. The size of a whole city.”

“You’re all doing great. Robin, your turn.” 

She took a deep breath and said, “It smells hungry.”

“It is,” I said. “I’ve seen something like this before. It’s extremely rare. It’s a house or concept created by Aether but that subsists on eating people’s quintessence.” I turned to my team and said, “You’ve been a great team. I think you’ve all grown since I first met you. This isn’t part of our mission and I won’t ask you to go. Thank you for giving me the honour of teaching you.” I turned back to the house and started to walk toward the entrance.

As I entered, I heard my team follow me. I hadn’t been sure they would but I’d hoped.

Once inside the house, the heat was humid and sticky. The smell of food and alcohol wafted from somewhere ahead of me. My traitorous stomach grumbled. 

There was a black man dressed all in white standing at a little podium in the entryway. It all looked like a fancy restaurant or members only club. 

The man was looking at a list and made a small cough before saying, “Sir Therien, party of six is it?”

“Where is my cousin?”

“She’s waiting for you inside with Master Luc.” The man said the name with a soft C like in Lucy. “Please follow me.”  When he gestured, I saw a red mark on his wrist; it was a small stylized skull.

The restaurant had no closed walls, allowing a tropical breeze to blow in, bringing the smell of ocean and flowers to compete with those of the feast of a buffet.

The place was full of people, each with the red skull mark on a part of their body. The further we went into the size and physics defying room, the more desiccated and mummy-like the people became.

When we passed the buffet and approached the far doors, I asked again, “Where’s my cousin?” 

“Just through here sir,” the man pointed at a door that hadn’t been there a second before.

As we crossed the threshold, the heat changed to dry heat and we were on a balcony of a Greek style house. The city outside was burning and someone was playing sad bagpipes.

“At least it’s not the library,” I quipped. 

The man guiding us had disappeared and another man in an all black suit came out of one of the other two doors. “Would you prefer that?” he asked.

“No. Where’s my cousin?” I asked.

“She’ll be along soon. I just wanted to meet this generation’s Galahad.” He spoke quickly like an actor rushing his lines.

“Anyone who thinks I’m incorruptible lacks imagination,” I said before taking a formal tone, “Thrice I have asked, thrice you have denied me. I declare this establishment in contempt of the rules of hospitality.”

The man smiled in a way that didn’t touch any other part of his face and moved really close to me before saying, “Are you invoking Fay in the Devil’s home? The entirety of the Fay Kingdoms couldn’t hope to understand the depth of power here, none of which is bound by such childish rules.” 

“The Supernatural Accords of 1991 state that any member of the magical community who kidnaps another sapient creature forfeits their rights to retaliation or defence.” My sword appeared in my hand and I nicked the man’s neck just below his jaw. The cut was shallow but I was still surprised to see the lack of blood. Before the man could react, I placed the tip of my sword on his shoulder and said, “Tell Lucy that I will rip this place apart spell by spell if he doesn’t bring me my cousin in the next thirty seconds.” The man’s shoulder started to sizzle as I pushed power into my sword. 

I counted in my head and when I reached  twenty-nine: Sylvie walked in from the same door we’d come from. She was followed by a man dressed all in red with a matching cane. 

Syl, are you okay?

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were open but glazed, and she moved awkwardly, like she was a puppet. 

“You wanted to see me?” the man asked. He looked like a movie star; white teeth, pale skin, black hair, and a jawline that screamed “manly”.

“I’m going to give you one warning. Release Sylvie and we’ll leave here peacefully.” From the corner of my eye I saw Grant looking horrified at what I said.

“What are you going to do? Stab me? I don’t remember swords being all that effective against the devil.” The man laughed and Sylvie followed in a mechanical imitation.

“I warned you,” I said and pulled a bottle out of my coat. I threw the water at the man. Nothing happened.

Read Chapter 6

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 4

by

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 4: My team is ambushed by cryptids and I lose my cousin

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“What the hell is that?” Ursula asked. 

“I think ‘Hell’ is exactly what it is,” replied Grant. 

I could tell neither of them had heard the scream through mindspeak, which meant it was Sylvie. “The other group’s in trouble, we’ll look into this place later.” 

Turning to run, I hoped they would follow. 

Al, get over here. I don’t think I can fight this off for much longer. Sylvie’s voice sounded strained but also excited.

Give me a sign as to where you are, I said. The woods were huge, and other than south, I had no idea where they’d gone.

The mosquitoes seemed to get thicker. They buzzed and bit before suddenly disappearing. I attributed it to the dropping temperature. Between the sun setting and moving away from the house, it was getting colder fast. 

A bright pillar of light slashed the sky. Thanks. We’re on our way.

She didn’t reply and a few moments later the light went out. The forest got thicker and I fought my way through until we reached the edge of a cliff overlooking the shore. I almost fell but managed to stop.

“Where are they?” asked Grant between breaths. He needed more running practice.

“There!” Ursula said, pointing at a cave on the rocky beach.

The sunset turned vivid red and a cool wind swept up the river. Just as I was going to argue, a small bear-like creature came out of the cave and started howling. Its jaws opened to a ninety degree angle and froth dripped from its mouth.  

The sound of its howl sent a shiver of fear through me, and just as quickly as it had started, the howl was replaced by the most amazing sound. Like music, love, and warmth had been combined. I wanted nothing more than to go toward that sound. 

I heard Grant swear and felt him try to grab me, but I fought him. I ran straight for the cave, not caring that there was a six foot drop to the beach. I felt the freedom of running on air followed by a fall but not the landing.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the cave with the rest of the group, covered in blood, with a massive headache.

Grant stood over us wearing earbuds and brandishing his sword. “Are you okay?” he yelled.

I patted myself down and gave him the thumbs up. He took out the earbuds and gave a deep sigh.

There were three creatures around us. Each had been hacked by a sword, none were moving. 

Seeing the creatures closer up, I recognized the short soft grey-brown fur and the shape of its head. Mostly I recognized the large venom sacks under its neck. “Grant? How did you take out three adlats?” 

Adlats are some of the most dangerous cryptid creatures on earth. They lure people in with their song and then pump them full of venom that both paralyses and heals. They slowly eat a person’s quintessence, their soul, and drain their blood. The older the adlat, the longer they can feed on one person.  

“I put in my earbuds the moment I heard the howl and blasted The Kings of Rock. I tried to stop you from running off that cliff but you fell, and wow were you broken. Like, your legs were both bent the wrong way and I saw you wheezing really bad. Then one of those things bit you, and your legs popped back into place like an inflatable mattress but, like, gross.”

“Gross,” Ursula repeated in a flat voice. “Stick to drawing because your descriptions are terrible.”

Robin gave a little shriek from the other side of the cave and my heart sank until she said, “I’m fine, but I think we’ve found our killers. There are two more bodies back here that are desiccated like the man in the morgue.”

 “Can we sound off?” I asked and each person said their name and that they were unhurt, except for Sylvie. “Sylvie? If you’re dead, I’m going to bring you back and kill you.” I was hoping that if she were unconscious, my voice would wake her. I repeated the same thing in mindspeak in case she was out of earshot.

“Can he do that?” asked Grant with fear in his voice.

Once again deadpan, Ursula answered, “Probably not.”

I got up and gave him a stern look. I reached into my pocket for my phone and found it in pieces. I needed light and summoned my sword. It glowed softly and with a thought I turned up the light. The cave was illuminated, showing me my team, two desiccated corpses, dirt, the hacked remains of the adlats, and lots of blood.

“What happened?” I asked Robin.

“We were searching the woods when we heard a roar behind us, and then there was this beautiful music. That’s all I remember.”

“No idea what happened to Sylvie?” I asked.

Clifford said, “No,” and then suggested, “What about the tracking spell?”

I shook my head and said, “I didn’t make a packet for her.” We each had a bag with hair from the others. It allowed us to use a tracking spell if one of us goes missing. In general, Gatekeepers don’t have magic like a wizard but we can use some minor ritual based magic.

“She’s your cousin. You share blood. Assuming she’s physically closer than any other relative you should be able to find her,” he explained.  

It was worth a shot. I took my sword and pricked my index finger. Rubbing the blood on my sword, I said the words, “Let me protect my chosen family, let me have the strength to save them, and let me find the one who was lost.” The words weren’t necessary, only the intent, but they didn’t hurt.

The sword swung me around in a full turn and then pointed firmly toward where we had seen the building called “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.” I was fairly certain that Luc was short for Lucifer and that whatever we were walking into was going to suck.

“Everyone clean yourselves off and let’s get out of here. We’re going to get my cousin and meet the Devil.” I wasn’t a religious man and I didn’t believe in the Devil, but enough people did that an Aetherborn version could be just as bad.

Read Chapter 5

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 3

by

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 3: My team finishes their pie and wanders the woods.

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“Must have been a French Roast,” deadpanned Ursula, her deep voice never betraying the laughter I saw in her eyes.

Sylvie pulled the sword out of the puddle and asked, “Does this mean I’m King of England now?”

Clifford immediately quoted Monty Python, “‘Listen. Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government.’”

“They based that on us and no, you’re not a king. You’re now a Gatekeeper, a balancing force of the world. We keep magic from going wild and when it does, we clean it up. We are the Knights of the Aether,” I said, trying to make her understand that this was serious.

Sylvie raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do I have to take a vow of celibacy?”

“No?” I replied, not understanding why she was asking.

“Oh. So that’s just a you thing, not a Gatekeeper thing. Great.” She smiled mischievously at me. She always liked to tease me. This was going to be a long mission.

Coming to my defence, Ursula said, “He has Annabel.”

Eyes wide, Sylvie said, “Al, dish. Who’s Annabel?”

“You received a sword during a quest, not after it. That means you need to see it through to gain your full knighthood.” I changed the subject.

She put her free hand on her hip and said, “This talk isn’t over. How come none of you have your swords?”

I held out my hand and willed my sword into it. “You can summon your sword and dismiss it with your will. It can take months of training and even then, some have issues with it.” As I let my sword disappear, I tried really hard not to glance at Clifford. He had the hardest time learning to call his sword. We’d been working on it.

Sylvie took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment and her sword vanished.

“Wow,” Clifford said, looking a little sad.

“I’m a cop in Westmeath. I’ve seen shit,” Sylvie said, sounding way too cool. 

I scoffed and added, “She was in the military, Elmsley special forces, before quitting and joining the police force. She’s been trained to resist magic in multiple ways. It makes sense that her training would come in handy.”

“Actually, my Ronnie’s been training me to use magic items for defence,” Sylvie said, grinning as she mentioned her fiancée.

Looking really uncomfortable, Granny Pie asked, “Can I clean this up or is it religiously important?”

“No ma’am, it’s not holy and l can clean it up for you,” I said and she looked relieved. 

I retrieved the mop and bucket from the shop’s storage closet and I started to mop up the coffee while Pie explained, “There’s been some strange things going on around here.” She leaned in and whispered, “Magical.” When no one looked surprised, she continued, “Normally, the Aether here is really thick, but it’s been thinning, and I can’t figure out why. Things have been bleeding through. Nothing sapient or dangerous, but with Halloween around the corner, I’m not sure that will last.”   

“I guess we need to go check out the beach and see if there’s anything there,” Sylvie suggested.

At this point I was feeling old jealousies. She was only a few years older than me and lived in different parts of Ontario but I’d always been envious of her. She was better than me at everything, and I mean everything. I fought down the feeling and agreed. 

We finished our coffees, paid, and thanked Pie for help. Shield’s Crossing was a small town, but it was long, squished between Highway 17 and Muskrat Lake. 

We took the Volkswagen van. It was harder to drive than a minivan but easier to repair, as long as you could find the parts. It also allowed for more passengers. I guess we’re just a group of hippy knights. Who am I kidding? We were nerds at best.

We parked in the rowing club’s lot and walked to where the body had been found. Faught Beach was less of a beach and more of an opening in the woods that connected to the lake. No one with any sense would swim there. 

We looked around and found nothing useful. 

“I’m sure he died on the other side,” Robin said.

I looked up at the sky and then at my watch, “Let’s get going. We only have three hours before sunset, and we’re not ready to do a forest search in the dark.”

Sylvie looked confused and suggested, “We can get gear in town.”

I shook my head, “I’m not taking four inexperienced and one untrained knight into the wilderness in the dark.” I’d seen enough weird stuff in the cities. The woods brought out humanity’s weirdest fears and I wasn’t about to be killed by a yeti or killer duck.

The entirety of the other side of Muskrat Lake was thick forest. There were some homes on the shore but they were sparse. The roads were terrible but we made it to a lookout area with two hours to spare.

“We should split up to cover more ground,” Sylvie suggested. 

“Never split the party,” Grant said quickly.

Rolling her eyes, Sylvie said, “That’s only in Dungeons and Dragons. In real life, time is more important. Take these.” She passed out black metal rings.

The ring felt warm and I could feel it was charged with magic. There was the symbol of a tree with a maple leaf on the trunk, the logo of Yggdrasil. “What are these?” I asked.

“Coms. They work like mindspeak but they’re completely secure.” When the others gave her a blank look, she added, “It’ll let us talk mind to mind.”

“Okay fine, we split into two groups,” I started. “Sylvie, take Clifford and Robin, and search south. I’ll take Grant and Ursula and go north. We meet back here in an hour and a half.”

“Yes sir,” said my knights and Sylvie gave me a half-hearted salute.

Searching the woods isn’t the most exciting thing to do. We saw several rabbits, a lot of squirrels, a coyote, and more crows than I’d expected. We also met every damned mosquito in the area. Damn the warm fall. It was normally close to freezing at this time of year, but it had been in the low teens the whole time we’d been here.

As we walked it got hotter until I was considering taking off my leather coat. “Something’s wrong,” I said at the same time I heard a scream in my head.

I was about to turn and run to help my friends when the trees parted and a large three-storey antebellum style mansion appeared. The heat was coming off of it, and there was a large sign in the front that read, “Luc’s House of the Rising Sun.”

Read Chapter 4

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

The Scarlet Thread Irregulars (Serial Story) — Chapter 2

by

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 2: My team starts to investigate, has pie, and gains a new member

Wednesday the 11th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario

“More vampires?” I asked.

“Impossible,” squeaked Robin as she twirled her black curls. “We’re right in a thick part of the Aether. I can feel it. Nothing is coming through here without a Fay or Wizard involved.”

We were alone in the small town’s coroner’s office, if you didn’t count the corpse. It was a strange case. An old friend had sent me reports of three deaths in the past few months.

“You’re probably right. I don’t remember any vampires that drained someone of all fluids,” I conceded.

Smiling, Robin bounced as she said, “There was an X-Files episode… or was it Buffy?”

“I’m sure there was, but unless the killer was cute, we have nothing to worry about,” I said confidently.

“Oh, um, well, the Buffy one was a hot teen Inca mummy.”

I sighed. “Let’s figure out where the bodies were found before we start interrogating the local teens. Actually, let’s leave the teens out of it completely.” I shuddered. My teen years were spent studying or hanging out with my small group of friends. The rest of the time, the other teens hadn’t seemed to appreciate my nerdyness. I did have a teaching degree, but I was hoping to teach middle grade, where they still had a sense of wonder.

“Are there any puncture wounds?” she asked.

I shrugged. “The coroner’s report is right there and so is the body, you’re the one with a medical background,” I said it as calmly and as matter of fact as I could.

“Yeah, I flunked out of medical school when I got my sword.” She’d been on a date with her fiancé and he’d pushed her in the way of a giant carnivorous plant. Thankfully, the fountain next to her produced her sword.

“Hey, I can go get Grant if you’d prefer not to do this,” I said, goading her. If I was going to get someone else, I’d have to bribe the coroner.

Angrily, she replied, “He knows nothing about anatomy that he didn’t learn from comic books. We both know how realistic those are.” She didn’t let me reply. She just dove into the files and then examined the body.

After almost an hour, she said, “He was found on Faught beach in the northern part of town. I’m guessing he floated over from the other side. People would notice a dead body on the south side of the lake. He has two healed bite marks in his back. The coroner said the desiccation and water damage made it impossible to tell how old the wounds were.”

There was soft clapping that came from the doorway and I jumped a bit. Robin gave a squeaky scream. The woman at the doorway was tall and muscled, and she had her unruly red hair tied in a high ponytail. She smiled and said, “Hey Al, great-uncle sent me to liaise with you and your team.”

I walked over and gave her a big hug. Seeing Robin’s confusion, I said, “Gatekeeper Robin Beckett, this is detective Sylvie Therien, my cousin.” I turned to Sylvie and asked, “Isn’t this a little out of your jurisdiction?”

“Nope,” she pulled out an RCMP badge and said, “Inspector Sylvie Therien with Yggdrasil Command.” 

“Since when has the RCMP been involved with Yggdrasil Command?” I was confused. As far as I knew it was a military organization.

“Four months ago when the higher ups thought they needed more breadth of help. They even have civilian agents now.” She seemed pleased.

Robin gave Sylvie hero-worship puppy-dog eyes as she asked, “Does this case have to do with aliens?”

Sylvie gave the younger girl a crooked smile and asked, “Why would you think that?”

“An inspector with the RCMP shows up at a weird case and talks about being part of a mysterious organization. It’s just like Stargate or the X-Files.”

Nodding sagely but obviously trying not to laugh, Sylvie said, “I can’t comment on aliens but I’m here to help you investigate.”

“Let’s get out of the morgue and go talk to my contact,” I said. “Who wants pie? I’m buying.”

We left and walked down the small town’s main street. The only way to describe the town was picturesque. It was like something from a kid’s Halloween movie, pumpkins and decorations everywhere, lots of trees threatening to change colours, and big banners announcing the next festival. 

Shields Crossing was a town that embraced tourism in the way a dog in heat embraced everything; desperately and without any sense of shame. That meant festivals, activities, and lots of artisanal or quaint shops. My personal favourite was Pie’s Shop, a place that made the best pies in the world. 

The rest of the team was already in the store when we got there. There were four little tables and we were taking up two of them.

“Oh, Albert dear, could you give me a hand back here?” asked Piper, or Pie as they called her. She looked like she was in her eighties, moved like she was in her thirties, and talked like she’d been around forever. She was the picture of a perfect grannie. I was fairly certain she was a magic user.

I went to the back and she gestured at two large bags of flour that were blocking the back exit. I picked them both up, wanting to show off, and put them in the small pantry.

She smiled.

In the front, there was a small window between the shop and its neighbour, a small coffee place. I went to the window and ordered everyone a coffee.

When we were all sitting, Pie brought us all slices of pie. No one had ordered, but she still knew everyone’s favourite. Like I said, I think she’s a magic user.

Robin had just gotten the rest of the group up to speed when Grant gestured a little too wildly, knocking Sylvie’s coffee over.

From the puddle of coffee came a French-style epée. Sylvie looked at me confused, and I just sighed. “Welcome to the team, cuz.”

Her only reply was to swear and say, “My fiancé is going to kill me.”

Read Chapter 3

While you wait for the next chapter, check out the previous serial stories:

Recommendation Thursday – Carmilla Web Series

by

Hello My Imaginary Friends,

I recently became obsessed with a web series. Has that ever happened to you?

The Series is based off an old novel called Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu published in 1872 and apparently one of the inspirations for the original novel Dracula.

The first season is everything I love about college fantasy stories. It has excitement, humour, romance, and kissing. (Yes this is a kissing show.)

The show has a total of 3 main seasons  (I recommend you also watch season 0 after you watch season 2.) and is coming out with a movie October 26 (If you’re in Canada check Cineplex for showtimes).

The show does a lot of things amazingly including romantic tension, representation, and humour. It melds the feel of Lovecraft, Supernatural, The Lizzy Bennet Diaries, and Only Human.

It’s Halloween month and this is a great vampire romance. What are you waiting for?

 

Later Days,

Éric

 

 

Reading Bites

by

Somehow I missed posting the pictures from Can-Con 2015! This is one of our absolute favourite conventions of the year, which is kinda obvious if you know that our due date coincides with their convention THIS year. (Sept 9-11) Seriously, go check them out and then buy a ticket. The writing community of Ottawa is incredible.

A red shirt, author Éric Desmarais (Follow him on Facebook, his blog, sign up for his newsletter through his website, and buy his book here) is about to get bitten by a vampire, author S. M. Carrière (Follow her on Facebook, her blog, sign up for her newsletter through her website, and buy her books here) and is pleading for the Doctor to help!

IMG_20151031_163240small

Only Human (Serial Story) Part 13 – Conclusion

by

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |
Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

The circle glowed and bright lights erupted out of it as Tim and Ginny forced the lever down on his prototype Metaphysical Transfiguration device.

Rachel, still held by the neck by the Smiling Dark, felt oddly light. A feeling of joy and excitement ran through her. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt since she was a child.

* * *

It was Christmas morning. She and Natasha were sitting in painful anticipation for it to be seven AM. The time their parents told them they could wake them up.

“What do you think Santa brought us this year?” asked Rachel, vibrating with excitement.

“I don’t know, but I hope my motion sensor camera caught him doing it,” Natasha’s eyes sparkled with delight. “You know this is just a memory right?” she asked.

The question caught Rachel off guard. “Can’t I enjoy it?”

“This was my last Christmas…” Natasha trailed off.

“Am I dead?”

Laughing, Natasha said, “Always the optimist. No sweetie. You’re not dead… Not yet.”

“Are you real?” Rachel threw herself at her sister and hugged her.

“At the moment, anything you think of can be real. Now wake up.”

“I still miss you,” Rachel’s tears fell onto her sisters back as they hugged.

“I know, but I don’t miss you enough yet to have you join me. Wake up.”

* * *

The feeling of excitement and power was almost painful.

“What just happened?” asked the man in front of her. He was shadowed as if light didn’t enjoy touching him, but he was still just a man. His face looked like an aged movie star’s, his skin closer to grey than any real colour.

“I think you just became punchable.” She punctuated her quip with a punch.

Lightning crackled around her fist as it connected with the Smiling Dark’s face. It left small burn marks on his cheek. He fell to one knee, his smile disappearing for a moment, and said, “Just because I’m corporeal doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”

His arms reached out and shadows coalesced around his hands forming dark blades. He took a fencer’s stance and started moving towards her. She could see dark tendrils of shadow moving around him like some sort of Lovecraftian monster.

The machine had turned him into a monster that creates and manipulates shadow instead of being made of it. The belief of monsters all over the world that he existed was amplified. Rachel knew what had happened to him had happened to her. The belief of everyone on campus was that she was a demi-god, and she could feel the power of the gods inside her.

“Leave now and you can live.”

“I will have you one way or another.” He attacked and she parried with blades of lightning.

“Ew!” she exclaimed before adding, “I warned you.” Turning to her friends, she said, “Leave the room.”

They fenced, Rachel letting him think he could win, until everyone had left the room.

“I am darkness, shadow, and death. You can’t kill me.”

“I am a demi-god of lightning and energy. Let’s see if you can survive with so much light there isn’t room for shadows.” She reached deep into herself for her new power and pulled it out forcing it into a ball of pure lightning bright plasma around her. She let it expand and cover every millimetre of the room.

The Smiling Dark’s screams were drowned out by the crackle of power. When the entire room was light and electricity she tried to stop it and found she couldn’t. The energy went wild and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

* * *

“Thank you,” whispered her sister’s voice as Rachel started to wake up.

Everything hurt. Rachel opened her eyes to see that she was in her dorm. “She’s awake,” yelled Ginny. Her friends walked into the room followed by a large man with an eyepatch.

“How are you feeling?” asked the large man.

“I hurt, but I think I’m ok.” She was better than that; she knew her broken bones and cuts had healed completely.

“The ache will pass with time. It’s a side effect of returning you to your human self.”

“Ok.” It was all she could think.

“You fought well, Rachel, and for that I hold no grudge for you copying my son’s powers. Just don’t do it again.”

His son? Rachel’s eyes went wide. “Odin. Oh my…” she trailed off.

He chuckled. “If you so choose, your place in Valhalla is guaranteed.” With that, he disappeared.

“Way to go, you amused and impressed the All-Father,” Tim said, probably meaning it to be a joke, but sounding just as amazed as she felt.

“Wow.”

“So whatever you did, vaporised my lab and the entire Transmutation building.” Tim still sounded amazed, and seeing her worried look, he quickly added, “Don’t worry about it. It happens more often than you’d think. Transmutation is a volatile area of study.”

“Dowan and I got everyone out in time,” said Ronnie smiling at Dowan.

“Naw, it was mostly you, man,” Dowan replied smiling back.

“Oh, get a room,” gagged Tim.

Turning to Tim, Ginny said, “That’s not a bad idea.” She cocked an eyebrow and crooked a finger. Tim turned bright red and rolled to the kitchen. They closed the door behind them as they entered the kitchen area.

Both Dowan and Ronnie looked uncomfortably around the room until she said, “I’m not up for a threesome.” Their eyes opened wide until they saw she was joking.

“Who would you have chosen?” Dowan asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah,” smirked Ronnie.

“Me. If I had to choose someone to die, it would have been me.” The boys looked a little disappointed with her answer and she added, “If you’re asking who I choose now, I don’t know. I like both of you and I’ve had a long few days. Why don’t we have a few dates before I decide?”

“Ok,” they said at the same time.

“I’m not opposed to that threesome,” said Dowan, and he winked at Ronnie before disappearing.

Ronnie turned bright red, something Rachel thought vampires couldn’t do, and said, “Take care,” before walking out of the room still blushing. There would be a lot of time for her to choose. Avenging her sister made her feel more at peace than she’d ever thought possible, and now she was looking forward to her classes and flirting with two hot boys. Her life was looking pretty good.

Both Tim and Ginny were in the kitchen. Ginny walked back in and asked, “Anything I can do?”

“I’m ok. Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re alive. Sorry you lost your god powers.”

“I’m not. I like being me. I like being Only Human.”

The End

Only Human (Serial Story) Part 12

by

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |
Part 10 | Part 11

Standing holding the heart of Rachel’s professor, the Smiling Dark said, “Shhh. That’s enough information for my new bride.”

Rachel, Dowan, and Ronnie stood there mouths agape for longer than they should have. The Smiling Dark was exactly what it sounded like; a Cheshire smile and piercing grey eyes surrounded by a semi-transparent shadow in the shape of a man.

“Bride?” asked Rachel, still in shock.

“Yes. I’ve been following and guiding you your entire life. I made sure you found what you needed to be strong and what you needed to grow stronger. I forged you through pain and combat until you became the woman you are. Now you’re almost ready to take your place at my side.”

“No!” she said sounding more confident than she felt.

“You don’t have much choice. You’ll do it. If not for yourself but for your friends,” the shadow sneered.

In a smooth motion Rachel pulled out and threw her mystical dagger. It should have hit the shadow right in the face but instead went through it and stabbed several books in the cluttered office.

The shadow laughed. “You cannot hurt me. I’m not corporeal. I’m an idea, a fear, I don’t work on your plane of existence unless I want to.”

Something about its words made her think of Tim but she didn’t know why and didn’t have time to think about it.

“Must make having a bride difficult,” snarked Dowan. “I mean what’s the point?”

“I will transform her to be like me and we will rule the world.” The shadow’s arms lifted and both Ronnie and Dowan were pulled up by their necks by an invisible force. “Rachel. You will be my bride or I’ll destroy anyone and anything you’ve cared about. The last woman to refuse me was Atlantean.”

“Scary. Put them down.” Again her voice was calm while she was terrified.

“Kill one and you’ll be ready.” When she hesitated, he laughed and added, “I’m not without a heart. You can keep one as a toy.”

The Smiling Dark, literally dangled two men in front of her. She’d known she’d have to choose between them eventually, but not like this. She’d hoped the other would still be her friend, not dead.

“The trickster is quite handsome but he’ll age and get old. The vampire will offer you decades of play time. Both will scream prettily for you.”

“I think you have me confused with someone else. I don’t want to hear them scream… in pain.”

“Not yet. Once you kill one, you’ll feel differently.”

Part of her relished the idea and it sickened the rest of her. Had her bloodlust and love of the hunt been because of the Shadow? Is he the reason she liked to kill?

Her stomach churned. How could she fight something that wasn’t corporeal; that was more of a metaphor?

“I’m not killing them! They’re my friends.” she said, and thought about all her friends.

“If you don’t, I’ll destroy everything you care about.” There was ageless patience in its voice.

“Can you give me time to decide?” She couldn’t think of a way out of this, if she couldn’t hurt it than she was helpless.

“Of course, my bride. You have one hour to decide.” Both men fell at the same time and the shadow was gone.

“I can’t believe that worked,” she mumbled.

“Good job getting more time,” choked Dowan.

“What do we do now? How do we beat that thing?”

“We don’t,” she replied. “But I know who will.”

She had a plan, based off sketchy information and half thought out, but it was a better than no plan at all.

* * *

“What does this thing do?” asked Dowan confused.

Looking up at him from his wheelchair, Tim sighed, “It converts belief to reality.”

“Isn’t that impossible?” asked Ronnie.

They were all standing in Tim’s lab. He was doing something with the electronic parts and all the knobs. Rachel didn’t fully understand was he was doing. Only that it could move the Smiling Dark into phase with them so she could punch it.

Shaking her head, Ginny said, “If people believe in something strongly enough, that belief can fuel the creation of something. It’s why we have gremlins; they were dreamed up through a combination of altitude sickness, lack of oxygen, and human belief. Over just a few years, all the pilots in world war one believed in their existence. A lot of the mythical races owe their existence to belief.”

“It’s called Gaiman’s Hypothesis of Metaphysical Transfiguration,” Tim added.

“Normally it takes years, sometimes lifetimes, for the belief to become real,” Ginny rubbed Tim’s shoulders as she talked. “Tim’s research is about speeding up or slowing down this process. The Smiling Dark is part way through and has found some way to influence the world.”

Ronnie looked at Rachel and tilted his head towards his sister and Tim, wiggling his eyebrows. Rachel gave him a smile.

“Wait, we want to make this thing more real?” asked Dowan, rubbing his throat.

“Yes. If he’s real, he can feel pain.” Rachel actually growled. She impressed even herself with the viciousness of the statement.

“Just make sure he’s standing in the middle of the collider,” Tim pointed at a series of tubes set in a perfect circle on the ground. There were wires coming from various parts of the tubes and magical glyphs on every surface.

“Don’t get trapped inside with it.” ordered Ginny.

“Why?” Rachel asked, and both Ginny and Tim shrugged.

“Time’s up, my bride.” The shadow appeared behind them, smiling, always smiling.

She had to figure out how to get him into the giant, really obvious, trap. “Remind me why you need a bride?” she asked to buy time and sidle towards the right place.

“Once your innocence has been taken—” he was cut off by snickers from all of Rachel’s friends. “Once you kill one of those you love, you’ll be ready to be my bride. We’ll combine and become one.” He moved with her, shadowing her movements.

“First, I’m still trying to decide if I like them enough to do more than kissing. I wouldn’t say I love them. And when you say combine and become one, you mean figuratively right?”

“My essence shall invade your body and we shall meld into a being of great strength and darkness.” If it was possible, its smile grew wider.

She was standing in the middle of the circle and the Smiling Dark was moving towards her. She was ready to throw herself out when his arm, composed of shadows and fear, reached out and grabbed her by her throat.

“Which of them have you decided to kill?” it asked, moving its entire body towards her.

“You!” she choked out. “Tim, now!”

Read Next

Only Human (Serial Story) Part 11

by

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |
Part 10

Ginny had fallen unconscious from blood loss. Rachel took her knife back up and shuddered at what she had to do next. She had to cut the flesh that had touched the holy oil. It infected and necrotised the flesh of a vampire, who were not actually undead.

After cutting up her best friend, she reached into the fridge for a bottle of artificial blood and fed it to Ginny. She woke up part way though feeding and screamed in pain. Her wound started to close slowly as security arrived.

She told them everything, except her being human and hunting for her sister’s killer.

When they left, Ginny insisted she stay in the same room. As she cuddled with the sobbing vampire, Rachel couldn’t help but feel like her quest to find her sister’s killer was hopeless.

* * *

There was no heat in the bed with Ginny. The extremely low body temperature of vampires must have been the root of the rumours about them being dead.

It was cold and Rachel was sore from her various fights of late. She’d come close to death that night. When Ginny had fallen asleep she got up and walked around, cleaned the kitchen, and did some studying.

When she went to the washroom, the toilet seat hurt her back. She rolled up the t-shirt she’d changed into and saw a perfectly circular bruise where she’d been hit by the wizard’s spell. It was as wide as her hand was long and just above her bellybutton. She touched it and it stung, the skin felt sensitive. It felt like she had burned her skin and bruised. Looking at her back in the mirror she saw that she had an identical bruise on her back.

“I hope this isn’t all in my head,” she whispered.

The whispered words connected with something inside her and she felt dizzy. A flash of memories burned into her brain.

* * *

“It’s all in your head, Natasha,” Rachel yelled at her little sister when the treehouse was empty.

The adult Rachel could see her younger self and sister arguing about the existence of what they’d always called cryptoids. Rachel was firmly convinced they didn’t exist, it took Natasha’s death to convince her.

Natasha was nine in this memory or vision and Rachel was eleven. It was when she’d stopped wanting to play at hunting mythical creatures.

Adult Rachel tried her best to ignore what was going on and not look at her sister. It hurt too much. Instead she concentrated on the treehouse, everything in it, and everything around it.

“You’re mean and I hate you!” yelled Natasha as she climbed down the rope ladder.

Younger Rachel rolled her eyes and yelled back, “You’re just a baby who still believes in monsters and fairies!”

As she watched the past, Rachel saw something behind her younger self. It looked vaguely human shaped but cloaked in shadows that shouldn’t exist on that bright summer’s day. As she watched in horror the shadow smiled a bright Cheshire cat smile at her younger self and slowly looked up at her. When she started to think it could see her, she said, “Can you see me?” It winked at her and she found herself once again looking at her bruise in the bathroom mirror.

Her phone rang.

* * *

“So I heard you and my sister cuddled last night. Should I be worried?” Ronnie asked as she distractedly walked across campus.

“Not from her,” replied Dowan appearing on the other side of her.

The two men followed her as she continued to walk. After her waking dream she’d contacted her divination teacher, who’d invited her to meet in the morning at her office.

“Ginny’s prettier than either of you, both of you should be worried.” Rachel said over their bickering.

Pulling a coffee from the air, Dowan asked, “How is she, by the way?” He was the one who’d called her after her vision.

Ronnie replied, “She’s fine. Tim’s with her.” When Dowan gave him a funny look, he added, “The little dude is awesome and makes her feel comfortable.”

“He has my gun and he’s a specialist in ‘Metaphysical Transfiguration’,” Rachel said shrugging.

“Do you know what that means?” asked Dowan.

“Do you?” snapped Ronnie.

“No,” replied Dowan.

“Me neither.”

Both of them burst out laughing and looked at Rachel. “He tried to explain it to me and I think I fell asleep. Something to do with changing things that aren’t tangible into something you can touch and manipulate.” Rachel couldn’t help joining into the laughter. The three of them had to stop walking they were laughing so hard.

Both men knew where she was going. She’d told Dowan when he called and she’d told Ronnie when he and Tim showed up to take care of Ginny.

The three of them walked in comfortable silence until they reached their teacher’s office in the Blue Wizards’ School of Divination and Illusion.

The office was small and cramped. It had four desks shoved in the middle together and it looked like the office was shared by multiple professors. The Hag, their teacher, was sitting with pink spectacles on her warty nose, grading essays.

They awkwardly filled into the room and Rachel told her all the details of her dream, or vision.

“Oh my dear. That’s terrible,” the Hag said, looking distraught.

“Am I getting visions or memories?” asked Rachel.

“Oh definitely a vision. You have great divinatory powers. It’s a rare power for a demi-god. Normally it’s a human trait.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Humans are the most powerful divinatory beings. They can feel the magic around them and use it instinctually. It’s fascinating they have no clue how powerful it is. They call it good reflexes, luck, or gut instincts, but it’s all because they’re more attuned to the magic of time and knowledge.”

“Wow,” said Ronnie.

“You’re human, aren’t you, dear?” the Hag asked.

Changing the subject, Rachel asked, “What about the Shadow Man I saw in my vision. Do you know who that is?”

“Yes but…” she trailed off. Sighing deeply she said, “It sounds like the Smiling Dark. Subridens Tenebris.”

Both men gasped and Dowan said, “That’s just a myth, right? A story that parents tell their kids to make sure they behave.”

“Says the trickster spirit, to the Hag, standing next to a vampire,” deadpanned Rachel.

Smiling, Dowan lifted his hands. “Good point.”

“How do I find it?” asked Rachel, feeling closer than she’d ever been before.

From the crowded bookshelf, a shadow moved. At first Rachel thought it was from the clouds shifting, but it was an overcast day. It floated behind the Hag, and in one swift movement pulled out her heart.

“Shhh,” said the shadow. “That’s enough information for my new bride.”

Read Next