A/N: Bold is German. Except for one instance that is clearly Latin and noted as such.
.o.o.o.
Chapter 5: Into the Woods
.o.o.o.
"Germany's supposedly chilly right now," Loki commented. "And yet you still lack a shirt."
"I don't get cold, brat," Daimon said. "You?"
"Same. Half-Frost Giant, you know," Loki said.
"Squirt like you? Please," Daimon huffed as they entered the motel. "What do you have with two beds? My little brother's a bed wetter."
"Don't try to insult me in German, I speak plenty of languages, you know," Loki hissed. "He's lying. Just worried he'll want to bring someone home, if you get my drift, ma'am."
The manager rolled her eyes at their antics, "Any other amenities?"
Daimon glanced around, clearly wondering if the seedy location even had amenities. "A working bathroom. Otherwise we're good."
"Thirty euros a night for the room."
"Fair enough," Daimon muttered, digging his recently-converted money out. "Two nights. When would I need to tell you if we want to extend it?"
"Morning of the night you want to extend it to," the woman said. "Room 9."
.o.o.o.
"All right kid, let's go over what we know about the issue," Daimon said. "We'll head over an hour before sunset."
"There have been quite a few mysterious attacks around that small historic church at the edge of the forest that we passed on the way here. The attacks began about a week ago," Loki said. "The local minister and the groundskeepers have offered a five hundred euro reward for information, or in our case, stopping the thing. Apparently it's a major tourist and religious destination."
"Little over six-fifty US," Daimon said. "Decent for a couple nights' work."
"What are our overall finances?" Loki asked, pulling up an app on his phone.
"I've got cash and collateral that equal about ten grand, not counting stuff from Hell which I'd really rather not give normal people, as well as some collateral back with allies in the states, and you have…six bucks now?"
"Yes, four went to dollar-store reagents," Loki agreed.
Daimon nodded, "Pretty sound for this line of work. Okay, ideas on the attacks?"
"No fatalities as of yet, though the victims are clearly quite traumatized and some appear to have been violated in varying ways," Loki said, flicking through news articles on his phone, "There have been two attempted police stings that resulted in nothing. Most of the victims are in various hospitals that also provide psychological care…"
"General injuries?" Daimon asked, leaning over his shoulder.
"Lacerations, blunt force trauma, psychological damage…and our attacker seems to have watched Evil Dead for various victims…"
"You know Evil Dead?"
"Volstagg would only let Reggie and Derk go see it at a Halloween screening if I went as a chaperone," Loki said. "…So instead he had three freaked out kids instead of two. I think the paper misprinted the rating."
"Yikes," Daimon chuckled. "Okay, so, looking at 'when trees attack' here?"
"Vines," Loki said. "Ivy or ivy-like. And I think this is from a rosebush…" He showed the image to Daimon.
Daimon's eyes went wide behind his sunglasses. "Damn. On second thought, let's go. I'm going to want a look at those plants."
The walk was quick, neither Daimon nor Loki particularly accustomed to simply strolling but instead hurrying between point A and point B.
"Nice looking place," Loki noted. "I'd say…seventeen hundreds?"
"Late fifteen, little one," the minister said, opening the door. "One of the oldest established Lutheran churches, built by the hands of an entire village. It's also now a historical landmark which, sadly, given the current circumstances, tends to draw many people."
"Lutherans believe in exorcism?" Daimon asked.
"If all other options have proved fruitless, then yes," the minister said. "I am Gilbert and the groundskeepers are Wilhelm and Martin. I'm afraid Martin does not speak very much English-"
"We speak German," Daimon said.
Gilbert nodded, "Well, we've hired you first as a supernatural investigator, and as an exorcist second. If we can be of any help…"
"Other than closing off the grounds?" Daimon asked.
"They have been closed," a large man said, coming in with a how over his back. "Folks come in anyway, lured by the ghost stories I'd wager. Gilbert, Martin and I can't get rid of those vines-"
"Vines!" Loki said. "Oh, show us! We believe vines may be a key part of this mystery!"
"Let me finish with the minister, Loki," Daimon said. "Ah, Wilhelm, was it? Let him look at the vines, but don't let him get all grabby or anything."
"Grabby…ah, don't let him touch them, yes," Wilhelm said.
"How long have you worked here?" Loki asked.
"Twenty years," Wilhelm said. "I've always loved masonry and working with plants. Plus it's nice to know the history."
"Then this was clearly a most excellent vocational choice," Loki said. "If we cannot find anything, perhaps we should rig some way to keep people off the grounds after dark…"
"Martin's already on it. Gilbert ordered some barbed wire form the city," Wilhelm said. "So…you that Loki?"
"Not anymore," Loki said.
"I'll never understand you supers. Still, if you're helping, you're helping," Wilhelm said, clapping Loki on the shoulder. "Here we go. Covered up three graves by now. Creeping on some of the others, too."
"I'm ready to break out a flamethrower, myself," Martin huffed, coming up with a massive roll of barbed fencing dragging behind him.
"If you do, can I watch?" Loki asked eagerly.
"Martin, don't encourage delinquency. See if you can find my axe in the shed," Wilhelm said. "Well, kid?"
"it's not a normal plant, but you probably figured that," Loki said, giving the vines a bit of a berth. "Seems to be growing in an odd pattern…what grave did it cover first?"
"Lars Schmidt. Then his brother Olaf's and Olaf's wife Petra's," Wilhelm said. "Now it's getting on the Biel's graves. Looks like Tom and Roderick are going to be covered by tomorrow…"
Loki hummed as he put the names into his phone. "And have you or Martin had any issues with the plants, other than not being able to remove them?"
"Thorns are sharp and sting like mad," Wilhelm said. "And it's not so much that we can't rip it out as that it regrows too fast."
"That is odd," Loki said, cutting a small bit with one of his daggers and inspecting it. "Looks like here's some magic in its vein structure. See the glowing bits?"
"Loki!" Daimon called. "Get over here! We're going to get started!"
"Wonder what he thought I was doing," Loki quipped.
"Good luck, kid," Wilhelm said.
"Godspeed," Martin added, having returned with the axe.
.o.o.o.
"All right, this isn't based in demonic activity, but it is a curse so we can still probably do something about it," Daimon told Gilbert. We're going to hang around the grounds tonight. Any chance of one of you staying in the church?"
"We all live here," Gilbert replied.
"Good. Loki, come on, let's get a perimeter,"
"Right," Loki said, hopping off the pew he'd taken brief residence in, still working on his phone.
"Anything on the affected graves?" Daimon asked.
"That's a no," Loki said.
"What kind of a secretary are you?"
Loki stuck his tongue out, "The kind who'd like to remind you that this is a very rural town and most of those people died before Facebook."
"Brat."
"Demon."
"Half, but close," Daimon chuckled. "List the names for me, maybe I'll get lucky and see something."
"Have you been here before?"
"No, but maybe I have a demon-sense about this."
"Like Hel you do," Loki scoffed, listing the names. "Odin's beard."
"What about old one-eye?" Daimon asked.
"The first names—their first letters spell something," Loki said.
"Loptr?" Daimon asked. "Sounds like a demon rabbit. Something you know about, kid?"
"Daimon…Loptr is another way of saying 'Loki'," Loki said quietly.
"What?" Daimon asked sharply. "How can this possibly be about you? Do you know anyone in Germany?"
"I don't know, maybe!" Loki said.
"Tenebraesurgitab alto."
"Who was that?" Daimon hissed, smoke starting to come off of his hands.
"I think we know my mystery stalker," Loki said, sounding choked. "Tenebrae surgit ab alto means 'the darkness will rise from the deep' in Latin."
"And they're using it as a…spell," Daimon snarled as the churchyard went pitch black right as he clamped a hand on Loki's shoulder. "Kid, text the minister and tell all three to stay inside."
Loki fumbled for his phone, the light on the screen barely enough to light their faces in the darkness. "I can't tell if this is an illusion or simply an elemental summoning."
"What I what to know is what idiot uses Latin these days," Daimon scoffed. "Medieval went out of style a millennium ago!"
"Mid…Daimon….remember when you helped me with the Otherworld?" Loki asked shakily.
"The Brit legends, right?" Daimon asked, forming a circle of fire at their feet for some visibility. "Yeah. Got you and Leah the explosives."
"So you were complicit," came the voice from the shadows.
"Okay you, show yourself in the next five seconds before I just decide to up and murder you!" Daimon snapped.
"Can you not taunt the opponent? Especially when they seem to be winning?" Loki hissed.
"That from you? Priceless," Daimon said dryly, scanning the darkness.
"It's a woman," Loki said. "Not the Grail-keeper, not Guinevere, I've heard both of them, not the Faerie Queen either…"
"Loki…who's England's big sorceress legend?" Daimon asked, having clearly puzzled it out himself.
"Morgana le Fey," Loki breathed as a redheaded woman became visible.
"So good of you to notice," she said.
"What do you want with my sidekick?" he snarled. "You're doing this, you went after his dreams at Strange's place-"
"You weren't coming fast enough," Morgana said.
"Actually, Germany had been our next stop," Daimon said. "So really all you did was piss me off more than I would have been."
"I don't care much for you, Hellstrom, you were merely the boy's instrument in harming the Otherworld," Morgana said. "Give him to me and I will let you go."
"Thing about demonic blood, it kind of makes a guy possessive," Daimon said, his grip on Loki's shoulder tightening. "How about instead you leave the kid alone and I don't turn you to ash?"
"We have no interest in leaving Loki alone," Morgana said, many glowing-eyed imps appearing behind her as the strange vines rose.
"Daimon, we're going to need a bigger fire," Loki gulped.