Damien walked into the clearing, surprised to find what appeared to be a stone altar smack dab in the center. Stone tablets surrounded the altar like some neo-Stonehenge. He could feel the use of recent magicks in the area, and couldn't believe that everything was displayed so blatantly.
"Quite the set up, isn't it?" a voice spoke from behind him. Damien turned and saw a man, maybe mid-twenties, wearing khaki pants and a black turtle neck underneath a leather jacket. He had short, dirty blond hair. "Took me about six years to get it right."
Damien remained motionless, watching the man walk around the clearing, running a carefree hand over the altar and tablets. "You built this?"
The man smiled. "Of course. The family needed someone adept with the mystical forces of nature to build this conduit, and I was the only one who had actual schooling in that aspect of our world."
"You're pretty free with this information."
"You'll be dead soon enough. I just figured you would like to know why you were dying."
"I've seen a lot of Bond films," Damien said. "You might not want to tell your master plan."
"Master plan?" the man laughed. "No master plan, I'm sorry. More of an experiment. The family had some loose ends that needed tying, and I had a theory brewing. So we killed two birds, so to speak, with one stone."
Damien was trying his best to keep his anger in check. He starting whispering an incantation, keeping it ready for when he needed it.
"It worries the family that you came this far in your investigations. It bothers us even more that one of our own was ready to turn information over to you. But she's being dealt with."
"Monica?" Damien asked.
"Of course. My cousin. Well, I'm afraid that's all the time I have for you." There was a growling in the woods nearby. Damien knew that the Ogrellan was coming. "I would like to say I am sorry for this, but really, I'm not."
"We'll meet again."
The man smiled. "That would be interesting, but not completely unlikely on a hellmouth."
The man turned and left, disappearing into the woods. Damien quickly grabbed his cell phone and dialed Network's number.
"Hey, any luck?" Network said when he answered the phone.
"No time. If you have any way to kill the Ogrellan I need it now!"
"You found it?"
"Not exactly. It's about to find me. Look, I can explain everything later but I need to stay alive first. How do I kill this thing?"
Damien could hear Network typing on his computer. "Well, there's no reports of any murders, so unless it fed on some other demon or something, it should still be mortally wounded."
"That's a relief," Damien sighed. "So I have a chance."
There was a large growl and Damien could see feel the vibrations through the ground that the demon sent out with every step. It was close and Damien needed a plan and fast.
"It's almost he-OW!" Damien dropped his phone as a sharp pain ripped through his arm. He looked at it and saw a deep gash. It was starting to bleed. "Not good."
Damien could hear Network hollering over the phone and bent down to pick it up. "Someone shot me, Network. I'm bleeding."
"Damn!" Network cursed. "Bad?" "Superficial. Arm wound. I think it was meant to be that way, if you catch me."
"To drive the Ogrellan into a bloodlust."
"Exactly. I need to kill this thing, Nate. How do I do it?"
There was no time for an answer as the Ogrellan broke into the clearing.
Monica awoke, her head pounding and the room spinning. "Where...am...I?" she muttered.
"You're safe, Monica," her father said. Monica's vision started to straighten and she noticed that she was in her room on her bed.
"Why?" she said, the grogginess starting to fade.
Roland stood up. "This family has operated in this city for many, many generations, Monica. I'm not proud that it hasn't been all legitimate, but none the less, we have survived and benefitted from our business."
"What are you talking about, father?" Monica asked.
"My daughter," Roland sighed, handing her a glass of water from the night stand. "You know the sort of business we are in. I never lied or tried to keep it from you. We deal in scary things, and it was my belief that you should always be aware of the dangers the world offered. The REAL dangers."
"I still don't..."
"Monica, I want you to meet someone." Roland motioned to a corner of the room. This was the first time she noticed the cloaked figure in her room. "His name is Knartook. He has worked with the family since its inception. He is a demon."
Knartook removed his cloak and showed a ghastly visage. His head was a mere skull with three horns protruding from the forehead. Strange tattoos covered his face. And when he spoke, it was like the sound of worlds dying.
"Do not fear me, child," the demon said.
"Daddy," Monica said, her voice shaking. "What's going on?"
"Monica, Knartook is here to help us deal with the problem you present. He is here to do something I can not."
"You can't be serious!" Monica shouted. Roland turned to leave the room. "Daddy! Don't leave! I'm your daughter!"
"Everything will be okay, Monica. You'll see." Roland closed the door behind him.
Knartook floated (for he did not actually walk) towards Monica. "Hush, child," the demon said. It put a single, boney hand out above Monica's forehead, not actually touching it. "Soon you will see."
Outside the room, Roland heard his daughter scream in agony. A single tear fell from his right eye. He wiped it away and walked down the hall.
Damien jumped out of the way of the Ogrellan's attack. Its massive claws just missing his torso by mere millimeters. Damien quickly jumped to his feet and muttered the spell he kept ready. A blast of purple light flew from his hands and hit the demon. It hollered as purple lightning exploded around it and lashed its arms about like clubs, smashing the altar and surrounding tablets. After a few moments, the spell ended and the Ogrellan turned its attention to Damien again, anger written plainly across its face.
"Okay," Damien said. "Plan B then."
The Ogrellan moved with blinding speed, surprising for something that was supposed to be mortally wounded. Damien dodged its attack again, just missing bashing his head into the altar. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial to Network's phone.
"Anything, yet?" He yelled when Network answered.
"Working on it. We have Montoya looking into it also."
"Great. Order a pizza and throw a party while I'm dying out here!"
"That's the plan," Network said, sarcasm more than dripping each word.
Damien saw the Ogrellan once again turn towards him. He muttered another spell, this one for speed, and took off running. He didn't have any plan, but he figured that whoever was behind this creature was from the family who lived in the Grand Hotel. He was going to bring it home.
Monica was breathing heavy. Pain still wracked her body. The demon loomed over her. "Do you understand now, child?" it asked, its voice grating on her very soul.
"Yes," she muttered.
"Good."
Suddenly Knartook was gone. Roland entered the room again. "How are you doing?"
Monica climbed out of bed. "I am fine, father."
"Lie back down, Monica. You'll need to rest."
"I am fine, father."
Roland stared at his daughter. "Yes, I can see that. This happened earlier than I would have liked. I wanted you to enjoy your youth before you joined the family."
"I'm not part of the family yet."
"I know." Roland laughed. "You will be, though. As soon as this affair is taken care of."
Damien burst through the double doors of the Grand Hotel. He surveyed the lobby and instantly ran for the stairs. A few seconds behind him, the Ogrellan entered the hotel, though in a far more destructive way. Damien laughed, taking a small pleasure in the financial troubles he was causing whoever was behind this.
What Damien didn't expect, however, was the Ogrellan to leap from the lobby to the second floor balcony, cutting him off his path.
"What the hell!" he heard someone yell from the lobby. He glanced and saw young man dressed in a concierge's uniform. He recognized him as the young man who ran the New Roanoke Motel. What the hell, indeed, Damien thought.
The Ogrellan slashed his clawed fingers at Damien, who did the unthinkable and jumped onto the Ogrellan's face. The demon spun around, trying to fling Damien. It finally grabbed his coat and slammed him into a room door, knocking it down, and the wind from Damien.
Damien heard yelling from far away as he fought to get air into his lungs again. The Ogrellan suddenly appeared in the doorway of the room and the only thing Damien could think of was to mutter another spell, his specialty for strength.
The Ogrellan charged into the room, growling at Damien. Damien rolled forward, putting all the strength he could muster into a forward punch into the demon's chest. The creature howled in pain, but otherwise barely noticed. Damien, however, felt a rib shift and knew that it hadn't had the time to fully regenerate.
Damien ran back into the hallway and turned around to watch the Ogrellan. The demon turned and charged at Damien, who remained perfectly motionless. The Ogrellan plowed right into Damien, crashing the both of them through the bannister and plummeting to the lobby below. Damien used every ounce of strength he had to push himself out of the Ogrellan's grasp and jump towards the chandelier. He barely made it, but no one watching would be able to tell with the deftness he displayed as he pulled himself up onto the chandelier.
The Ogrellan hit the lobby floor with a sickening snapping sound. Damien wasted no time and muttered a spell to break the chain holding the chandelier. As the gorgeous, heavy (and very expensive) chandelier fell, Damien leapt from it, pulling himself into a ball and rolling to his feet. The chandelier shattered and the Ogrellan let out one final howl before its head fell back limp. It was dead.
There was silence for a moment that was broken by Damien's cell phone ringing. He answered it.
"Damien!" Network's voice cut through. "We have an idea how you can kill the Ogrellan."
"Already done," Damien said in between deep breaths.
"Oh," Network sounded surprised. "Then, job well done. See you soon?"
"In a bit. I have something to take care of first."
Damien put his phone away as an older man dressed in a very well-tailored suit approached him. Behind him was Monica, looking none the worse for wear, and two younger men; one the concierge from the New Roanoke Motel and the other who looked so similar who could have been a brother.
"Who are you?" the older man demanded.
"My name is Damien Thatcher. Now, if you don't mind, would you or someone here please tell me who you people are and exactly what the hell is going on?"
"I'll handle this, father," Monica said. She walked forward and motioned for Damien to walk into the office.
Once inside the office, Monica sat behind the desk and offered Damien the seat in front of her.
"I'll stand, thanks," Damien denied the offer. "So what is this, Monica?"
"I can't go into too much detail, Damien. I may not agree with the solution my family used to solve a current problem, but it was effective none the less."
Damien studied Monica. "You can't be very old, Monica. Sixteen, seventeen maybe?"
"My age is irrelevant, Damien. You did excellent work taking care of that..." she glanced out the door where she could barely see the Ogrellan lying in the lobby. "You do good work, Damien." "I have a good team. Monica, what is going on here?"
Monica looked at the wall for a long moment. "Damien, I can't tell you family business. All I can say is stay clear. You don't want us for an enemy."
"I don't even know who you are," Damien said.
"It's better that way." She stared into his dark eyes for a long moment. She hated that it had to be this way but...oh who was she kidding? He had to be at least ten years older then her. "You're free to go, Damien. I know you'll want to look into this more, but I assure you: don't."
Damien was going to say something but didn't. Instead he turned and left the office. In the lobby he looked over everyone's faces, committing them to memory.
"Take my daughter's advice," the older man said. "Keep out of this."
"We'll see," Damien turned his back on the rest and left the hotel.
Monica stood in the doorway of the office, staring after Damien. Her father put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You should get some rest," he told her. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
"Yeah," she sighed. Monica looked at her father, then turned away and headed towards the stairs.
Everyone was happy to see Damien walk into the White Room at Croaton Computers. Montoya greeted him with a hug and Network told him "job well done." Paul also applauded Damien in his robot-with-a-soul way.
"We don't have a lot of time for celebration," Damien said, interrupting the good mood. "We need to do research on the owners of the Grand Hotel as well as the New Roanoke Motel."
Network looked concerned. "Were they the ones behind the Ogrellan?"
"I believe so, but I think there is something more going on there. I think we are going to have several run-ins with them and I don't like them having the advantage on us."
"Will do," Network said. "Oh, and guess who decided to join the team?"
Damien looked at Montoya. "Glad to hear it."
Montoya blushed. "I just decided I could do more good here than sulking in my room."
"I agree," Damien smiled. "And we're going to need all the help we can get. I have a feeling things are going to get hectic in the near future."
Network turned to Paul. "The big guy's going to stick around, also, Damien."
"Oh?"
"Correct," Paul said. "You may need my assistance and New Roanoke is where I desire to be."
"Desire is a human trait, Paul," Damien said.
"One of many I feel will again resurface with my contact with fellow humans. With friends."
"Then it's settled," Damien said. "I feel like I'm in a bad pilot for a crappy TV show." Everyone laughed. "Come on, team. We have work to do."
THE END
"Quite the set up, isn't it?" a voice spoke from behind him. Damien turned and saw a man, maybe mid-twenties, wearing khaki pants and a black turtle neck underneath a leather jacket. He had short, dirty blond hair. "Took me about six years to get it right."
Damien remained motionless, watching the man walk around the clearing, running a carefree hand over the altar and tablets. "You built this?"
The man smiled. "Of course. The family needed someone adept with the mystical forces of nature to build this conduit, and I was the only one who had actual schooling in that aspect of our world."
"You're pretty free with this information."
"You'll be dead soon enough. I just figured you would like to know why you were dying."
"I've seen a lot of Bond films," Damien said. "You might not want to tell your master plan."
"Master plan?" the man laughed. "No master plan, I'm sorry. More of an experiment. The family had some loose ends that needed tying, and I had a theory brewing. So we killed two birds, so to speak, with one stone."
Damien was trying his best to keep his anger in check. He starting whispering an incantation, keeping it ready for when he needed it.
"It worries the family that you came this far in your investigations. It bothers us even more that one of our own was ready to turn information over to you. But she's being dealt with."
"Monica?" Damien asked.
"Of course. My cousin. Well, I'm afraid that's all the time I have for you." There was a growling in the woods nearby. Damien knew that the Ogrellan was coming. "I would like to say I am sorry for this, but really, I'm not."
"We'll meet again."
The man smiled. "That would be interesting, but not completely unlikely on a hellmouth."
The man turned and left, disappearing into the woods. Damien quickly grabbed his cell phone and dialed Network's number.
"Hey, any luck?" Network said when he answered the phone.
"No time. If you have any way to kill the Ogrellan I need it now!"
"You found it?"
"Not exactly. It's about to find me. Look, I can explain everything later but I need to stay alive first. How do I kill this thing?"
Damien could hear Network typing on his computer. "Well, there's no reports of any murders, so unless it fed on some other demon or something, it should still be mortally wounded."
"That's a relief," Damien sighed. "So I have a chance."
There was a large growl and Damien could see feel the vibrations through the ground that the demon sent out with every step. It was close and Damien needed a plan and fast.
"It's almost he-OW!" Damien dropped his phone as a sharp pain ripped through his arm. He looked at it and saw a deep gash. It was starting to bleed. "Not good."
Damien could hear Network hollering over the phone and bent down to pick it up. "Someone shot me, Network. I'm bleeding."
"Damn!" Network cursed. "Bad?" "Superficial. Arm wound. I think it was meant to be that way, if you catch me."
"To drive the Ogrellan into a bloodlust."
"Exactly. I need to kill this thing, Nate. How do I do it?"
There was no time for an answer as the Ogrellan broke into the clearing.
Monica awoke, her head pounding and the room spinning. "Where...am...I?" she muttered.
"You're safe, Monica," her father said. Monica's vision started to straighten and she noticed that she was in her room on her bed.
"Why?" she said, the grogginess starting to fade.
Roland stood up. "This family has operated in this city for many, many generations, Monica. I'm not proud that it hasn't been all legitimate, but none the less, we have survived and benefitted from our business."
"What are you talking about, father?" Monica asked.
"My daughter," Roland sighed, handing her a glass of water from the night stand. "You know the sort of business we are in. I never lied or tried to keep it from you. We deal in scary things, and it was my belief that you should always be aware of the dangers the world offered. The REAL dangers."
"I still don't..."
"Monica, I want you to meet someone." Roland motioned to a corner of the room. This was the first time she noticed the cloaked figure in her room. "His name is Knartook. He has worked with the family since its inception. He is a demon."
Knartook removed his cloak and showed a ghastly visage. His head was a mere skull with three horns protruding from the forehead. Strange tattoos covered his face. And when he spoke, it was like the sound of worlds dying.
"Do not fear me, child," the demon said.
"Daddy," Monica said, her voice shaking. "What's going on?"
"Monica, Knartook is here to help us deal with the problem you present. He is here to do something I can not."
"You can't be serious!" Monica shouted. Roland turned to leave the room. "Daddy! Don't leave! I'm your daughter!"
"Everything will be okay, Monica. You'll see." Roland closed the door behind him.
Knartook floated (for he did not actually walk) towards Monica. "Hush, child," the demon said. It put a single, boney hand out above Monica's forehead, not actually touching it. "Soon you will see."
Outside the room, Roland heard his daughter scream in agony. A single tear fell from his right eye. He wiped it away and walked down the hall.
Damien jumped out of the way of the Ogrellan's attack. Its massive claws just missing his torso by mere millimeters. Damien quickly jumped to his feet and muttered the spell he kept ready. A blast of purple light flew from his hands and hit the demon. It hollered as purple lightning exploded around it and lashed its arms about like clubs, smashing the altar and surrounding tablets. After a few moments, the spell ended and the Ogrellan turned its attention to Damien again, anger written plainly across its face.
"Okay," Damien said. "Plan B then."
The Ogrellan moved with blinding speed, surprising for something that was supposed to be mortally wounded. Damien dodged its attack again, just missing bashing his head into the altar. He pulled out his cell phone and hit the speed dial to Network's phone.
"Anything, yet?" He yelled when Network answered.
"Working on it. We have Montoya looking into it also."
"Great. Order a pizza and throw a party while I'm dying out here!"
"That's the plan," Network said, sarcasm more than dripping each word.
Damien saw the Ogrellan once again turn towards him. He muttered another spell, this one for speed, and took off running. He didn't have any plan, but he figured that whoever was behind this creature was from the family who lived in the Grand Hotel. He was going to bring it home.
Monica was breathing heavy. Pain still wracked her body. The demon loomed over her. "Do you understand now, child?" it asked, its voice grating on her very soul.
"Yes," she muttered.
"Good."
Suddenly Knartook was gone. Roland entered the room again. "How are you doing?"
Monica climbed out of bed. "I am fine, father."
"Lie back down, Monica. You'll need to rest."
"I am fine, father."
Roland stared at his daughter. "Yes, I can see that. This happened earlier than I would have liked. I wanted you to enjoy your youth before you joined the family."
"I'm not part of the family yet."
"I know." Roland laughed. "You will be, though. As soon as this affair is taken care of."
Damien burst through the double doors of the Grand Hotel. He surveyed the lobby and instantly ran for the stairs. A few seconds behind him, the Ogrellan entered the hotel, though in a far more destructive way. Damien laughed, taking a small pleasure in the financial troubles he was causing whoever was behind this.
What Damien didn't expect, however, was the Ogrellan to leap from the lobby to the second floor balcony, cutting him off his path.
"What the hell!" he heard someone yell from the lobby. He glanced and saw young man dressed in a concierge's uniform. He recognized him as the young man who ran the New Roanoke Motel. What the hell, indeed, Damien thought.
The Ogrellan slashed his clawed fingers at Damien, who did the unthinkable and jumped onto the Ogrellan's face. The demon spun around, trying to fling Damien. It finally grabbed his coat and slammed him into a room door, knocking it down, and the wind from Damien.
Damien heard yelling from far away as he fought to get air into his lungs again. The Ogrellan suddenly appeared in the doorway of the room and the only thing Damien could think of was to mutter another spell, his specialty for strength.
The Ogrellan charged into the room, growling at Damien. Damien rolled forward, putting all the strength he could muster into a forward punch into the demon's chest. The creature howled in pain, but otherwise barely noticed. Damien, however, felt a rib shift and knew that it hadn't had the time to fully regenerate.
Damien ran back into the hallway and turned around to watch the Ogrellan. The demon turned and charged at Damien, who remained perfectly motionless. The Ogrellan plowed right into Damien, crashing the both of them through the bannister and plummeting to the lobby below. Damien used every ounce of strength he had to push himself out of the Ogrellan's grasp and jump towards the chandelier. He barely made it, but no one watching would be able to tell with the deftness he displayed as he pulled himself up onto the chandelier.
The Ogrellan hit the lobby floor with a sickening snapping sound. Damien wasted no time and muttered a spell to break the chain holding the chandelier. As the gorgeous, heavy (and very expensive) chandelier fell, Damien leapt from it, pulling himself into a ball and rolling to his feet. The chandelier shattered and the Ogrellan let out one final howl before its head fell back limp. It was dead.
There was silence for a moment that was broken by Damien's cell phone ringing. He answered it.
"Damien!" Network's voice cut through. "We have an idea how you can kill the Ogrellan."
"Already done," Damien said in between deep breaths.
"Oh," Network sounded surprised. "Then, job well done. See you soon?"
"In a bit. I have something to take care of first."
Damien put his phone away as an older man dressed in a very well-tailored suit approached him. Behind him was Monica, looking none the worse for wear, and two younger men; one the concierge from the New Roanoke Motel and the other who looked so similar who could have been a brother.
"Who are you?" the older man demanded.
"My name is Damien Thatcher. Now, if you don't mind, would you or someone here please tell me who you people are and exactly what the hell is going on?"
"I'll handle this, father," Monica said. She walked forward and motioned for Damien to walk into the office.
Once inside the office, Monica sat behind the desk and offered Damien the seat in front of her.
"I'll stand, thanks," Damien denied the offer. "So what is this, Monica?"
"I can't go into too much detail, Damien. I may not agree with the solution my family used to solve a current problem, but it was effective none the less."
Damien studied Monica. "You can't be very old, Monica. Sixteen, seventeen maybe?"
"My age is irrelevant, Damien. You did excellent work taking care of that..." she glanced out the door where she could barely see the Ogrellan lying in the lobby. "You do good work, Damien." "I have a good team. Monica, what is going on here?"
Monica looked at the wall for a long moment. "Damien, I can't tell you family business. All I can say is stay clear. You don't want us for an enemy."
"I don't even know who you are," Damien said.
"It's better that way." She stared into his dark eyes for a long moment. She hated that it had to be this way but...oh who was she kidding? He had to be at least ten years older then her. "You're free to go, Damien. I know you'll want to look into this more, but I assure you: don't."
Damien was going to say something but didn't. Instead he turned and left the office. In the lobby he looked over everyone's faces, committing them to memory.
"Take my daughter's advice," the older man said. "Keep out of this."
"We'll see," Damien turned his back on the rest and left the hotel.
Monica stood in the doorway of the office, staring after Damien. Her father put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You should get some rest," he told her. "Tomorrow's going to be a big day."
"Yeah," she sighed. Monica looked at her father, then turned away and headed towards the stairs.
Everyone was happy to see Damien walk into the White Room at Croaton Computers. Montoya greeted him with a hug and Network told him "job well done." Paul also applauded Damien in his robot-with-a-soul way.
"We don't have a lot of time for celebration," Damien said, interrupting the good mood. "We need to do research on the owners of the Grand Hotel as well as the New Roanoke Motel."
Network looked concerned. "Were they the ones behind the Ogrellan?"
"I believe so, but I think there is something more going on there. I think we are going to have several run-ins with them and I don't like them having the advantage on us."
"Will do," Network said. "Oh, and guess who decided to join the team?"
Damien looked at Montoya. "Glad to hear it."
Montoya blushed. "I just decided I could do more good here than sulking in my room."
"I agree," Damien smiled. "And we're going to need all the help we can get. I have a feeling things are going to get hectic in the near future."
Network turned to Paul. "The big guy's going to stick around, also, Damien."
"Oh?"
"Correct," Paul said. "You may need my assistance and New Roanoke is where I desire to be."
"Desire is a human trait, Paul," Damien said.
"One of many I feel will again resurface with my contact with fellow humans. With friends."
"Then it's settled," Damien said. "I feel like I'm in a bad pilot for a crappy TV show." Everyone laughed. "Come on, team. We have work to do."
THE END