"What do you mean- he's gone?" Arthur asked, eyes wide as he held on to the wound on Berwald's arm.
"Well, the thing attacks, we fought it, I sent Berwald and Tino away, and then he and the stupid beast disappeared!" Vladimir said, leaning back against the wall, holding his head in his hands. It was throbbing horribly and his hands were coated in the blood from when he had swiped at the monster in question.
"What was it?" Allistor asked, sitting down to ease his wooziness. Vladimir looked at him, but ended up cringing from the light from the candle in his eyes. Allistor frowned. "Was it a werewolf?"
"A werewolf? I haven't heard of any problems in ages." Arthur said looking up. Berwald looked as lost as Peter when he was trying to make furniture.
"Werewolves?" he asked. "They're real?"
"If you can really question the reality of werewolves and you are personal friends of two men that can burn off their flesh at will, I am utterly impressed." Vladimir said with another groan. Berwald nodded, well it was hard to argue with that. "But we are not dealing with a werewolf… we have a much worse issue at hand."
"What?" Arthur asked, tying off the bandage. "What could possibly be worse than an angry werewolf?"
"Hell Hounds." Vladimir said darkly.
Darkness. That was all he could really feel.
No, scratch that, he was cold too. Freezing! As if… wait.
Alfred's blue eyes snapped open and he gasped. He was in a giant pool of water, and was floating. Or at least he had been up until he woke up. Panicking, he quickly righted himself as he started to drop like a stone in the pool. Splashing and kicking, he rose above the water and gasped painfully for air when he broke the surface. Keeping up his tread, he looked around and met nothing but water for as long as he could see, which wasn't very far, only about five feet or so.
Twisting, he looked up to try and find a source of light, but found nothing. Judging by the lack of any vision, Alfred guessed that he was in a cave of some sort or kind. He tried to calm his racing heart, but found that doing so brought his attentions to a sharp, searing pain in his side. He used one hand to touch it and then lifted the hand to his face, bringing it to mere centimeters away from his face. It was a blur to him, and it was then he noticed that his glasses were gone.
That metallic smell was not water.
Twisting and turning again, trying to find a way out, Alfred peered around, but couldn't see anything. He was stuck in the pitch black ocean of water that left a horrible taste in his mouth and made him sputter.
But Matt, where was Matthew!?
"Matt? Mattie, where are ya? Are ya here?"
Laughter suddenly filled the area, echoing horribly and leaving Alfred's ears ringing. He blinked rapidly as a sudden light from a torch lit the water surface around him. Squinting, the lost Sherriff looked up to see a very blurry figure above him. Cursing his horrid vision, he tried to examine as much as he could of the visitor, but didn't get much of a chance before it started talking.
"Ghost rider, My brother, welcome." It said, voice deep and rumbling. It left a strange shivering feeling in the Sherriff's chest as he listened to it, like the noise was going right through him.
"Who are you?" Alfred coughed past the water lapping at his face. "Where am I?"
"Oh, it's no place you would be familiar with. "And as for your first question, I am a kindred spirit. A man cursed by the devil through the hands of another."
"That doesn't answer my question." Alfred spat. "Tell me who you are!"
"I have no name." It said coolly, lifting the torch in its hand higher so that it lit his face. Alfred squinted and realized that he indeed, had no clue who this was. His face was far too white and pale and glowing for him to know who it was. "However, I am very interested in you, Alfred F. Jones. Twin riders… That's unheard of."
"I don't know how it works. Yer the first bein' I've met that knows anythin' about us." Alfred shot back. "What are you? You haven't told me anythin'. Are ya a rider too?"
"Ha! I'm no weakling Ghost Rider like yourself. No." The creature laughed again, as if he had just told the funniest joke in the world. "However, I did hear of your defeat of the Ice breathers. I had been having trouble with them for years… and it interested me."
"Shut yer Bazoo! What do ya want from me? Where's my brother?"
"Oh he's fine! Your annoying Vampire friend got him away before I could get to him." He said with a sigh. "You're whole town is quite annoying really. That man on the first night! So sad too… He'd be either dead or turned by now. Would have made a wonderful family man, given how protective he was."
"You son of a-!"
Alfred was cut off as the man suddenly swooped down, and covered his mouth with his much, much warmer hand. He grasped the front of the man's soaking shirt and glared with bright yellow eyes into his own blue. "I'm just doing my job here on this earth. To cleanse it of all evil and protect it from the likes of you." He sneered, holding the torch close to Alfred's hair, catching his hair aflame. Alfred shouted in surprise as his head was forced into its Rider form… but the water prevented complete transformation.
"So helpless… despite your fearsome looks, and your cries for justice, you and your brother are just matches for igniting chaos. Devil's spawn." Alfred stared back with his flaming eyes and held the gaze of his assailant.
Suddenly, the man jerked back away, dropping the Sherriff back into the salty water, making the fire that had burned away his flesh sizzle and dissolve. Alfred coughed and sputtered as his face grew back and water rushed into his mouth and throat.
"Well I'm afraid someone is knocking. See you soon- Sherriff."
It was then that the Sherriff was able to see the man's face clearly and recognize it.
Oh.
He hadn't expected that.
"Arthur, there's gonna be scuttlebutt goin' around here if Alfred doesn't show up." Lukas, who had appeared only moments earlier, said grimly. "As much as I hate to say it, he and Matthew are the backbone of the place. We might even get problems with bandits now too if any find out that our Sherriff's gone."
"I know." Arthur sighed, slumping in his chair. Vladimir had fallen asleep only moments earlier, as the sun had risen above the horizon. He glanced at Matthew, who was still out on the Table and Tino, who was too dizzy to say anything even remotely coherent. Peter was sitting by his uncle's bedside with his Father, who was hugging the boy with one arm in comfort. Allistor, who's head injury seemed to be affecting him more as time passed on, was by Tino. They were having a conversation that made no sense whatsoever to any of the room's occupants, but they seemed to think it held relevance. Vladimir had passed out face-first underneath the kitchen table where he had been sitting before. "It's a mess." Arthur sighed in defeat.
"Yeah- petunias should never be put with pasta. A horrible bouquet to give a squirrel." Tino said with a nod. Allistor agreed with a very horrible imitation of the German "Ja" that ended up sounding more like "EEEEYYAAAh."
"But even then… if we can get Matthew to wake up, we can convince everyone that he went out to check with the other towns if they were having wolf problems." Lukas said, rolling his eyes.
"We could do that…" Arthur nodded. "But I'm not sure if we can get this coffee boiler off his arse in time." He sighed. "He's really been Dragged out."
"Yeah…" Lukas sighed. There was an awkward silence between the two for an amount of time that allowed Allistor and Tino to discover the floating dust in the air and start trying to catch it.
"What all do you know about Hell hounds?" Arthur suddenly asked. Vladimir said what they were, but he didn't seem to know much more past that." The Norwegian nodded.
"I don't know as much as I'd like… but Tino and Berwald do." He said looking over at Tino and Allistor.
Tino was lying fast asleep in Allistor's lap while Allistor attempted (very badly) to braid the blonde's hair. Lukas and Arthur looked at each other with grim demeanor.
"Berwald it is."
"We call 'em Grims… Kyrkogrms… they're spirits that protec' church's and things." Berwald said with a frown.
"Really?" Arthur frowned. "how does that work? Hell hounds protecting churches?"
"Well, see, back 'n the day, people woul' bury a black dog alive… and it's spiri' woul' protect the church from th' devil." Berwald explained, as if struggling to find the right words. (It should be known that he was the worst in the family at speaking English, because he had to learn it later in life than the others. Matthias too, but he was a freak of nature.)
"That's… interesting." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "So why would they be coming after our town?"
"We should ask the Gospel sharp… he might know more about it than anyone else." Lukas suggested.
"Hmm… yes. Roderich might know." Arthur agreed. "Well then… I suppose we ought to go and see to it as soon as possible. It's early, but they won't mind. The more we know, the sooner we find Alfred."
"Don't forget to salt the horses on your way out!"
"Shut up Allistor."
It was raining once again when the three left the house. Peter had agreed to stay and keep an eye on things there, and make sure Allistor or Tino didn't do anything too ridiculous. Berwald was reluctant to leave his son alone like that, but knew the boy was reliable.
"Brother Roderich! Oi- open up!" Lukas sighed, ramming on the door heavily. The thick, wooden doors were solidly locked, but even then they shook with how hard the blonde was ramming on their surface.
"Coming! Coming!" A voice said from the other side of the door. The three- in their hooded cloaks and coats- listened as metal clanked against metal and a lock was slid open.
"Oh please do come in! You must be freezing!"
The three ducked inside and walked forward. The church really was a beautiful place, despite it being made entirely of wood (just like everything else) the interior had been built by a man- (none could really remember the name of him it was plenty long ago) who was originally a ship-builder. The inside had arches and wood bent to fit around the place and met in a gothic arch in the center. The altar up front was intricately carved with extreme attention to detail and talent. No one knew who made it, but it was as old as the town was.
The three turned around as the doors slammed heavily shut again.
In front of them, a man stood, about Lukas's height, maybe a few centimeters taller. He had dark brown hair that stuck up like an antenna in the front. His eyes were hard to see in the dim light of the candle holder that the man held. He had a white sleeping gown on and a dark blanket draped over his shoulders.
"Oh dear, you look tired. Do sit down."
"Thank you." Arthur said with a nod. They sat down in the front bench of the chapel and watched as Roderich lit more candles up in the front. Then he turned and looked at them.
"What brings you here so late- or early?" the man asked, sitting down on the bench at the other end. "It's not very often that people come to visit this early you know."
"Sorry about that sir, we just needed some help with some information." Arthur explained. "We were hoping you would have some answers for us."
"Oh, do go on." Roderich said with a nod. "what is it you need to know?"
"Grims… or Hell Hounds. Do you know much about them?" Lukas asked, getting straight to the point as he usually did.
"Hell Hounds?" Roderich looked up towards the altar as if in thought. "Yes, I have learned about them from my grandfather. There was much lore about them that he told me about."
"What can you tell us?" Berwald asked slowly.
"Well lets see… They started out as what you said, Church Grims. When they built a new church, they would bury a pure-black hound at the north side of the grounds. It would stay as a guardian spirit, to keep out any forms of satanic threat. "
"So… it's meant to protect the church from the devil?"
"Basically, yes." The Priest explained. "But to a more elaborate tale, it is said that they also strive to protect entire territories. They guard the graveyards and bell towers as well. At least, that's what I was told. If one was to be attacked or even just hear its cry… well it's normally an omen of death."
The three looked at each other, and Arthur was about to speak, but was interrupted by the Gospel Sharp.
"Why do you ask?"
"We think… we might have one on our hands. But we aren't sure, we just wanted to narrow down the possibilities." Lukas said, a dark look in his eye. "But by omen of death… what happens if someone survives an attack?"
"Hmm? An odd question, well my grandfather told me that there was legend telling that Hell-hounds were converters… they only let those whom they found worthy to live… but as for the reason why, I haven't a clue." He told with a frown. "Are you sure you're alright? Is something going on?"
"No sir, like we said, we just wanted to narrow some things down." Arthur answered. "Thank you for your time, I must get back to my patients."
"Oh, yes. Well I'm glad to have been of assistance." Roderich said with a nod. "May you be blessed in your endeavors."
"Thank you, Father." Berwald said with a nod. The three started to leave, just opening the door as the Priest spoke again, gently and worridly.
"Well… do be careful. It is said that those who open themselves to the supernatural, are more prone to find it."
Hey guys! SOrry it's late. I do apologize, I had multiple mental breakdowns doing over six essays this weekend. (All at least 6000 words it should be known) And a LOT of research is going into this tale as well. :O Yes Author does that.
University, Man.
AND HA TO THOSE WHO GUESSED WEREWOLVES... but you weren't completely wrong. I loved how assertive you guys were about it though.
Drop a review for your super tired author! It means the world to her! Think of it as a mental support donation. :D Tell me what you thought! Who do you think our bad guy should be? (I may or may not have decided quite yet) And how does Mattie our beloved Canadian fare? Who has our Sherriff? Why is author asking this? Why is A/N so long? Shouldn't she know? WELL YOU DECIDE DANGIT I'M GONNA GO CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP.