THE HARVESTER
Shadowed Past, Shadowed Future
Some see evil and ignore it.
From the Harvester's Journal
Dreams haunted her. They always did. Though she was powerful and over two centuries old, control over those dreams eluded her. So she dreamed and prayed for release.
She was running. But it wasn't her. Not really. It was someone else. Somewhere else. She was only a passenger yet unborn. She could feel her mother's heart, pounding with exertion and fear. She could feel her mother's fear, fear for herself and her unborn child.
She could feel the raw hatred of the one chasing her. Wanting her mother, wanting her dead. Screaming, she could hear her mother screaming, feel her sorrow. She felt the moment of her mother's death. Trapped, trapped inside! No way out.
Laughter. Female, not human. "Little kitten. Couldn't help lady. Will help you."
Bright white light….
Safe in her own bed, the woman thrashed around, throwing her blankets off. The dreams took her once more.
She was flying, flying over a land draped in snow. A city far below her, near an ocean. Closer, flashing through streets and alleys cloaked in billowing steam, sometimes floating through houses, chilling the occupants for a brief moment, then into a filthy cul-de-sack with a garbage dumpster cloaked in shadows.
Dread filled her. Screams echoed in the alley. Terrible fear, pain. Laughter. Evil. Darkness. Underground. Images and impressions danced in her mind as she drew closer to the closed dumpster.
Something began thumping the dumpster from inside. Ohgodohgodohgod. NO! LET ME GO DAMN IT! The woman cried silently.
The dumpster's lid began to shake as if something was trying to get out. She was almost there. As she touched it, the lid flew open with a sharp bang, blood drenched garbage began to overflow, lapping at her ankles even as she jumped back. The garbage shifted, revealing a child, no more than twelve, broken and burned past recognition. Her eyelids flickered, opening, revealing yawning sockets filled with leprous red light. She reached for the woman, screaming incoherently.
The woman woke, her body bathed in sweat and shaking uncontrollably. New York. She had to go to New York.
Alliances
Some embrace the evil within their souls.
From the Harvester's Journal
New York 1930:
She had always hated cities. The crush of people intruding upon her senses and the filth that could never be totally washed away. People who would kill you for looking at them wrong and those who profited from the pain of others. That was just the side that most people saw.
Underneath the bright glitter of civilization and the "modern age" lurked an older time, a darker time that most would like to forget ever existed. Here, demons walked, vampires preyed on the living and the unquiet dead haunted the places of their deaths. Here too dwelt witches, sorcerers and things that could not be named.
She had seen it all in her time. It was her world, one that was chosen for her long before she was born. She dealt with it, fought it as best she could. Sometimes, she was too late to save the innocent from it.
She sighed as she watched the police work. The object of their attention was something that had once been a child of thirteen. Now it was a corpse, one that had been battered, broken and burnt past recognition. It had been found in a trash dumpster, located in a filthy cul-de-sack, exactly like the one in her dream.
She had found it, been drawn to it really. As soon as she touched it, she knew that the damage done to it had been made while the child was still alive. She knew that there had been more murders, more children who wouldn't be coming home and that the culprits had just been more careful in disposing the bodies.
Hot anger thrummed through her body. If they were not stopped, more children would die. She knew the police were out of their depth on this, for the things responsible were not human. She knew this, felt the knowledge rise from deep within her soul, from the place where all her powers welled.
She turned away, still invisible to the police, invisible to everyone. She had done all she could. She had found the body, alerted the police and in turn, alerted the one whom she really meant to help her. She smiled slightly. He was here now, watching the police, watching her. She would wait for him to approach her.
She walked out of the alley and slowly began to shed her invisibility to the point where people noticed her, but didn't really take note of her.
[The Shadow]
He followed the woman, watching her slowly become visible and wasn't surprised when no one paid attention to her. He laughed lightly, softly. Clever, she was very clever and skilled.
She was projecting a light compulsion that made people avoid her. Stranger still, she didn't bother to include him. From that, he concluded she sensed his presence and didn't care whether he knew about her or not. So, did she have some sort of connection to the dead child? Or worse, did she have something to do with that death and was challenging him? He laughed again, this time mockingly.
He had felt her presence ever since she had entered New York. She had made no effort to hide herself from him or to slip the tails he had set on her and over the years she had saved several of his agent's lives or those of their families. From their accounts, the criminals who had attacked them were typically not human. Besides, the murders had started several weeks before she had come to his city.
He followed her to a low rent motel, watched her enter a room on the ground floor, saw her look in his direction as she closed the door. Her expression was one of exhaustion combined with sadness and regret.
[Soralis]
She leaned against the door and sighed as she sank to the floor. She was tired. Pain echoed in her mind, the memory of the child. The memory of a dozen children echoed in her mind, each dying a vicious, horrible death. Each death, a life she could not have saved.
Laughter cut through her mind. She knew he was there, watching, waiting.
Who are you? Why have you come? He demanded.
Don't you know? She replied tiredly.
Enlighten me, he laughed.
I am a myth. The innocent, the dying, the dead call out to me. I am drawn to them the way you are drawn to crime. I give them consolation. But I can never give them life. I don't exist. I can't be real. I am… she sighed, trailing off.
Who are you? He asked again.
I was named Soralis de Mordant. Death's Sorrow. Some call me the Harvester of Souls. You probably know the rest if you're as good as they say you are.
He laughed, the sibilant sound echoed into her mind. I don't need your help.
She echoed his laughter. I wouldn't be here if you didn't. This is my price of power. Just as the price of your redemption is to fight evil instead of fomenting it!
She sighed again. You are used to fighting mortal foes. These monsters are anything but. I have over five hundred worth of experience in this field. You are no fool. Let me help you stop these things. If we don't join forces, more innocent children will die! I can't sleep with that on my head. I doubt you can either.
He laughed again, this time thoughtfully. Very well. Get some sleep. Tomorrow we shall talk. She felt him sniff disdainfully. Your choice of lodging leaves much to be desired. A cab will be waiting for you in the morning at eight o'clock. It will take you to somewhere far more suitable.
She grinned. Thanks. I generally tend to take to the low rent districts because most of what I hunt preys on the folk who make their home there.
He laughed, enjoying her sense of humor. It matched his own. Get some sleep. I hope you can act.
Soralis fell into bed. You kiddin' right? She snorted as she brought up her mental shields. Sorry, but I don't want you poking your mental nose into places it might get stung.
He laughed lightly. But she was already asleep.
***
She was waiting by the curb when the cab arrived. Beside her was a large trunk-like suitcase. The woman was tall, easily six feet with a slender build and tanned skin. She had finely chiseled features and pale gold eyes. Her silvery white hair was pulled into a single, wrist thick braid that hung past her waist. She was dressed in a long, tan skirt, a dark green turtleneck sweater and well-worn boots. On one wrist was a curious bracelet made of some silvery metal with a strange blue-white stone set in it.
The cab driver got out and introduced himself as Moe Shrevnitz. "Ma'am, can I help you with that?" he asked, indicating the suitcase.
Soralis shook her head. "No thank you. Just pop the trunk please." She replied. He shrugged and complied. When she finished loading the suitcase into the trunk of the car, he opened the car door and helped her in.
"Um, is there anything else I can call you? Soralis is well…." He trailed off.
Soralis
laughed. "A bit distinctive?" she replied and considered the problem
for a moment. "Cynthia will do."
Moe looked relieved. "Good. Sorry, but we don't want to attract too much attention."
"Don't worry about it. I've been at this game for a long time. I can play the part of a country cousin if I have too."
He grinned. "That's probably what the Boss is gonna do." He replied as they pulled into the driveway of a city-mansion.
Waiting for them was a young man, perhaps thirty. He was tall with hawkish features and piercing blue eyes. He was impeccably dressed in a business suit. Her eyes narrowed briefly in recognition and she smiled slightly. This well-dressed man was the Shadow!
They stopped and she got out. He held out a hand and she clasped it. Images swirled between them.
Darkness…
Pain…
Fighting…
A dark shape looming over her. Fire…
Demons. Ghosts of a past she did not wish to remember.
White light…
Shadows.
Laughter. A battlefield. People dying all around him.
The beast clawing its way up, up from someplace deep within.
A boy within a temple of cobras.
Redemption…
The both gasped and let go of the other's hand.
"That was new." The Shadow commented dryly.
"Indeed." She replied, just as dry.
He smiled slightly. "Welcome to my home Soralis. You may call me Lamont."
"Thank you." She replied. "And it's Cynthia." Shrevnitz got her suitcase and followed them into the mansion.
DREAMS
A rare few confront the evil within…
From the Harvester's Journal
The week went by in a blur. Thankfully, whomever or whatever was stalking and murdering the city's children had decided to take a break, letting things die down a bit before striking once more.
They had found that there had been at least ten children who disappeared, usually right out of their beds, which at least, ruled out some forms of supernatural creatures such as vampires.
Soralis claimed that most vampires disliked taking children and they took care of the few pedophiles that occasionally cropped up in their midst. Even monsters had their standards, she confided to the Shadow, who had laughed in response to her sally. Besides, most species of vampire couldn't enter homes uninvited, but that option had to be left open.
Soralis sighed in frustration. It seemed that for every lead they had, more leads turned up and most lead to dead ends, sometimes literally. The only thing they knew for certain, it had to involve something supernatural.
She gazed out of one of the mansion's many windows, hunting the mystical byways for some sort of disturbance that held the particular telltale of pain-death magic. But it was hopeless. In a town like New York, death was commonplace and it could often obscure the signs of ritual magic.
"Anything?" Lamont asked as he slipped up beside her, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder.
"No," Soralis replied, running a hand through her hair as she slowly brought her senses back to normalcy.
"There's too much death and pain out there to get a fix." She growled softly.
"Patience. They'll strike again." He told her grimly. "Tomorrow, I want you and Harry Vincent to go over to those missing children's houses and see if you can pick anything up on that physic radar of yours."
She looked at him. "You have no idea what it's like to have all those memories banging around in your head."
"You wanted to help." He replied and laughed. "Besides, you clairvoyance is so much more powerful than mine."
Soralis grinned lightly. "Right." She turned towards him. "So how bout a friendly sparring match, hmm? I'm wired."
The Shadow laughed. "Friendly sparring match? With you? You cheat."
"So do you!" she shot back as they walked towards the gym room.
After the sparring match, she wearily got into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Elsewhere in the mansion, Lamont was also falling asleep…
She dreamed….
A mist, a vapor, she was floating, sinking, down….
Around her the earth beat in it's slow, steady rhythm, but someone was in pain. Something was crying….
She could not turn away, even if she wanted to. She was the Harvester and like all Harvesters before her, she was bound to the dead and dying. Bound to see things set right.
She went down….
Past the subway, into tunnels being excavated for fuel lines, water lines…
Death happened here, both recent and long ago. Men, workmen, stared at her with empty eyes, letting her past….
In the distance, she could see a light, a pulsing red light that filled her with dread, filled her with loathing.
Power.
Evil.
Death.
Within her mind, a thousand souls screamed in rage.
And children cried in the night. But they were already dead.
She began to glow, glow with a fierce white light, the souls of the children feeding her power, screaming with impotent rage…
The red light grew brighter, trying to envelope her; devour her…
"SORALIS!" Lamont yelled, gripping her shoulders, shaking her.
"SORALIS WAKE UP!" he yelled, putting all his power in that hoarse shout.
Beneath his hands, her skin glowed, glowed from within and he could sense a great struggle taking place. He forced his power into her, cutting her off from whatever she fought.
Shadows swirled around her, cutting her off from the terrible red light, hiding her, tugging her back….
"SORALIS!" he shouted, "WAKE!"
And her body seemed to jerk in answer to his shout. Her eyes opened suddenly and she started to gasp for air.
Lamont held her, giving her a glass of water "Drink it slowly. What in God's name were you trying to accomplish besides getting yourself killed?!" he asked viscously.
Soralis shook her head in confusion, trying to bring herself back, back from wherever she had been. "I don't know. I fell asleep. I dreamed… I always dream. But never…" she took a gulp of water.
"Never like this. It wasn't just a vision. Not just observing. The children were there. Red light… There was a red light. Underground." she said thoughtfully.
"I dreamed I was underground. There were workers… Dead workmen. Some sort of tunnel I think. Water pipes…" she rubbed her temples, trying to remember.
She looked up at him, the confusion clearing. "Is there any new construction going on around here? Any underground digging? Deep underground. It was very hot, close. I remember the heat and lack of fresh air."
He laughed softly, grimly. "I can find out." He looked at her. "Can you get some sleep tonight? I mean real sleep." He asked.
She thought for a moment. "Yes. I believe so, after a vision, like this, they usually let me sleep." She told him.
"Who are they?" he asked suspiciously.
"Whoever sends me these nightmare visions." She replied, suddenly very tired.
Lamont gently pushed her back onto the bed, she was in no condition to argue. Whatever took place had sapped her strength and he needed her for what was to come. He scowled. She was right. He needed her and whether she knew it or not, she needed him. She pulled the covers up over her and fell asleep almost at once….
But the Shadow did not sleep that easily. He laughed lightly as he summoned his powers, making him virtually invisible to all sight, save for a faint shadow on the floor. He made his way to the city's record department and began hunting through the blue prints, finally finding what he needed.
He took quick pictures on a prototype camera, much smaller than those currently available and left everything the way it was. Later he developed the film and was pouring over it and some maps when she woke up.
She was dressed in an old shirt and loose trousers, her hair still wet from a hot shower. She was yawning as she walked over to him.
"Find anything?" she asked and he nodded absently.
"Found the blue prints for the new tunnels they're digging. Narrowed it down from there. Think you can pinpoint it?" he asked as he looked at her.
She grinned lightly. "Probably. If my clairvoyance is cooperating. One of the few things I can't control."
"Wonderful." he replied as he handed her a chain weighted down with a piece of loadstone.
She took the chain and loadstone and swung it across the map of the city, concentrating. In front of them the chain glittered as the stone spun across the map. It began to spin faster as it swung in tighter circles. Suddenly, the chain snapped as the stone spun into a section of the map, leaving a strange burn-like mark on the paper.
"This happen often?" Lamont asked.
Soralis shook her head.
UNDERGROUND
Some even defeat that evil…
From the Harvester's Journal
They entered the tunnel silently, invisibly. Each of them were armed to the teeth with automatics, knives, swords and incendiary weapons.
What do you think? The Shadow whispered in her mind.
Probably Shadduu demons. she replied. They go for heat and underground. Might be dealing with necromancers as well.
Bloody wonderful. he grumbled as they moved deeper underground.
Are you a sorceress? he asked curiously.
Something of the sort, she replied.
The Shadow considered this as they turned into a side tunnel. The heat became more noticeable as they moved deeper underground. He knew he was sweating, but his partner didn't seem to notice.
What made you become like this? he asked.
I've been having visions since I was nine. For the past 500 years, I've seen the worst humanity and Hell can cough up. I've done some pretty terrible things to keep the world from going to hell in a hand-basket. she sighed. So yeah, I know evil as well as you do.
I'm sorry. he told her.
Don't be. Fate can suck sometimes. You just gotta deal with it. she laughed lightly. Hallo, she said, slowing down suddenly.
What? he asked.
Stop. she replied, holding up a hand only he could see. Quietly now. We're almost there.
Soralis looked grimly at him. Remember, head or heart are the only shots you can be sure of. If you can, cut off the head. That's best. she looked down the tunnel. Red light flickered there, she could hear faint chanting.
Will you be alright? he asked, remembering what had happened to her the night before.
She sighed. The voices crying in her head were loud and insistent. If they're trying to summon something, take out the demons and get out. I'll handle the sorcerer.
The Shadow scowled. He didn't like that. Listen, know a few things and I have weapons at my disposal that are the equal of any magicker born. Don't argue! she hissed in his mind, sensing his anger.
Alright, he told her, agreeing but not agreeing.
She sighed again, and they slowly crept towards the pulsing, red light.
***
Below them, in a circular cavern cut out of the solid bedrock was a chamber. They had almost a 180 degree view of the place from their vantage, which was a man-sized crack in a side wall. The floor of the chamber had strange shapes and runes etched in its surface and the walls were rough and unfinished. In the exact center of the chamber was a rough stone slab. Along one of the walls were the bodies of several children, dead.
They still have some alive somewhere… she hissed.
How? he asked.
They're telling me, she replied, indicating the bodies beside the wall. Get ready. Here they come. he looked at her. Soralis' mind voice had changed from a sad sort of whisper to something else. It sounded more like his own.
The sorcerer, she hissed.
A human, dressed in grubby jeans and shirt stood chanting, over the alter as a pair of very ugly demons hauled a screaming child over to him. They strapped the child down.
Soralis, he began and turned, startled.
She wasn't there.
Find the children, get them out! her voice echoed in his mind.
Below him, the earth rumbled angrily as the sorcerer turned, facing something glowing with bright white light. The Shadow, galvanized, raced through the tunnel the demons came through, killing several of their comrades in the process.
***
She was glowing from within. Swirling around her were the spirits of the dead children, weaving in and out of her body. Still more spirits surrounded the bound child, protecting it from the falling rock and the sorcerous battle that was about to take place.
The sorcerer snarled, bringing up offensive magicks. Balls of red fire spewed from his fingers, but Soralis effortlessly absorbed them.
She brought her hands together in a thunderous clap and the sorcerer found himself sinking into the very rock as it turned suddenly to mud. He yelled something in an unknown language and the mud turned to dust. They circled around each other, first blows a draw.
***
The Shadow meanwhile, was running down the tunnel, searching with his mind and senses for the children Soralis said were still alive. Around him the rock was shaking from the duel arcane that was taking place behind him.
He paused, he heard something. Something faint. A cry, forlorn, hopeless. He growled. Demons blocked his way. A sawed off shot-gun filled with blessed silver shot took care of them nicely.
Before him, huddled in cages were around ten children, ranging from seven to twelve. He let himself become visible as they looked on in awe. He made short work of the locks, automatics being very efficient lock-picks.
"If you want to live, follow me." He told them as he herded them out of the cavern.
***
Soralis smiled at the panting sorcerer and his pair of demon henchmen. "You know, this has been fun, but my associates have something to discuss with you." She told them.
The sorcerer snarled something profane at her. She laughed. "That isn't nice," she said and clasped her hands in front of her, bowing her head.
The demons and sorcerer rushed forward, seeing an apparent surrender. Unfortunately for them, Soralis was merely opening up her mind to the spirits of the children who surrounded her. They screamed out of her, a dozen or more vengeful spirits, turning into undead horrors no more substantial than a bit of smoke, but far more deadly.
The two demons stopped short as the watched in terror. The spirits swirled around the sorcerer, obscuring his body, but not his fear-filled screams.
The screaming stopped without warning, leaving only dead silence. But still, the spirits swirled and began to glow; to glow with a blue-white light. A terrible smell filled the air and more screams filled the air. Within the blue-white light, there was a darkness, vaguely man-shaped. Then it was gone.
The spirits converged on the frightened and bound child, who too, began to glow. The spirits suddenly winked out of existence, leaving the free of the bonds as if they were never there and the child was blissfully asleep.
Soralis opened her eyes and looked at the demons. Her eyes were glowing. There were no iris or pupil and the white of her eyes were completely obscured by bright gold light.
She smiled slowly, disturbingly. "Ri nicthros de sorid mur nictos vadatha nerin hedro makyrin." She told them in their language.
The demons bowed. "Soralissan den Mordath cur nabath, sarune Jabrida hurn. Isam de kandru vatjadre" They replied in the same language.
"Padris," she replied and turned towards the tunnel where the Shadow had ran through. He was now leading a band of small children through the opening. He stopped short as he saw the spectacle before him.
"Why are they still alive?" he demanded as the children huddled behind him.
"These two were helping the sorcerer against their wills. The others wanted the power the sorcerer promised them." she paused. "I'm letting them go."
"Are you crazy?" he demanded.
"No more
than you." She replied. "We came for the children. These two are
innocent." She replied, indicating the demons.
He scowled, not liking her arguments, but he couldn't kill the demons in front of the children. They had already suffered enough harm and to put them through that sort of hell would break their minds.
"Alright. I think you're being dangerously soft-hearted though." He looked at the sleeping child on the alter. "Did you kill the sorcerer?" he asked.
"No. His victims did." She replied as she scooped up the sleeping child and turned towards the silent demons.
"Orika ye Vedu" she told the demons.
"Mie su darru," they replied and left.
"Let's go," she said. The Shadow sighed. This was one case he would be glad to close.
EPILOUGE
Shadows conceal everything. Including your own light.
From the Harvester's Journal
The police found a group of ten children sitting on the police steps the next morning and told them that the Shadow had rescued them from bad men. Further questioning revealed nothing more. They had mysteriously forgotten most of the entire incident.
An anonymous phone call led them to the burial site of several missing children, whose bodies were exhumed and returned to their families for proper burial.
That night, The Shadow and The Harvester stood side by side on top of the Empire State Building. They gazed down at the sparkling city lights far below them.
"You said his victims killed the sorcerer, what did you mean by that?"
"Spirits have power Shadow. You know that as well as I. How do you think the Tulku knew about you? They told him and he exacted a proper vengeance on you." She laughed softly. "An evil man redeemed can do more for the light than a hundred men who have never truly experienced evil."
"And what of you?" he asked.
She looked at him and smiled sadly. "I could not turn a blind eye to it."
The Shadow laughed mockingly as he slipped a red fire opal ring onto her finger. "This will let my people know that you're an ally of mine. Don't take it off." He warned.
She grinned and bowed, then faded into the shadows. He smiled as he heard her laugh lightly. Too bad for our enemies, she said.
And was gone.
Fin…