It started here with Chrissy.
Phoenix took over here.
El Capitan moved us along over here
and then it was my turn to flex the rusty fiction muscles.
Enjoy….
Chapter 4 – Revelations
He had meant to go home. Just like Doyle said. Yet here he was, standing before the faded yellow door with his finger poised above the button linked to the fourth floor apartment labelled Lyric Chatelaine.
It seemed a man, no matter his faults, on finding the world was full of magic-folk, did not crave booze and cigarettes. He did not head home like a good boy, as though it was perfectly fine and normal day, to get some rest so that things would look brighter come the morning. He went looking for answers as to where all these crazy people had come from today.
It had started with a crazy lady and her odd eyes. Perhaps he could end it with a saner version of the same woman?
The door buzzer sounded in his ear, making him wrench his finger away from the button as though it had tried to bite. “Come on up Detective, we’ll be here all day if we wait for you to push that button.” Calm even over the speaker phone and deliciously cool in the sticky night air, her voice was unmistakable. He pushed on the door just as the buzzer stopped and slipped into the building.
Behind that faded yellow door was a whole world of beauty. The floor was marble, black as the night sky and filled with tiny white flecks that stretched to infinity. It was more like walking in space than an apartment block. White plaster filled the wall in perfection. Not a spot nor a stain or blemish to break the beautiful cleansing whiteness. The lobby was the full height of the four storey building with open balconies to each floor and ending in a magnificently painted domed ceiling that may possibly have made Michelangelo weep. At the far wall was the doorway to apartment one, the archway to the stairs and a grand open lift adorned in black iron work. Never in his life had he seen an apartment building like this in Gotham. Actually, not anywhere.
Eyeing the lift with a little suspicion he opted for the stairs and took them two at a time to the fourth floor. Her door was unassuming, considering the grandeur of the place. A plain and sturdy solid oak door. Nothing to make him worry. It made him worry because of that very fact… that and it stood open about a quarter inch, inviting him inside.
“We’re in the living room Detective.” The voice floated to his ears as though on a breeze. He pushed open the door and placed his hand on his gun. He may be crazy today but the word “we” did not escape his attention. Rounding the doorway into her living room Jake noted how much bigger the room looked from inside as opposed to through her window and then he noticed the woman.
Lyric Chatelaine.
She was perched on the arm of the chair in figure hugging jeans and that tight blue sweater. She stood and offered her hand, coaxing him to meet her eyes she smiled warmly. Those incredible eyes transfixed him. The left eye the deepest forest green and the right a blue more unfathomable than the sea.
“It’s lovely to see you again.” She took his hand and held it gently between her small cool hands as though warming herself for a moment. “Why don’t you take a seat? You seem to have a lot of questions.” She swept her arm towards the couch. Eyes following the arc of her arm they came to rest upon the couch, and the identical woman seated there.
Gun drawn, Jake Cole wrenched his hand from that of the dead woman and backed away to try and cover both with his piece if he could. “What the hell is going on here?”
****
The silence rang in the apartment. It filled his ears with its roar. His sharpened knives gleamed like diamonds on the black carpet. He was ready. All the time and planning were coming to a conclusion. The debasing and disgusting things he had done to bring himself to this one glorious point. Murder, sex and conniving. All she had to do was that one simple task. Convince him to seek out the priest, end the union so he could be the new father. That was all he asked!
Too late now and the plans were changing in his favour. There was no need to be the father of anything. It was time to simply be rid of the disgusting little sow. Lucian had given permission. Who was he to argue? He smiled as he heard the click of key in lock.
“Mark? I’m home!”
****
The dead woman backed away slowly, but serenely and sat beside her sister. “We mean you no harm Detective. Please put the gun away before you shoot my sister again.” The real Lyric Chatelaine spoke for the first time since he had entered the room. Dressed as her sister, save for the buttons on her sweater were amber in colour rather than the pink of Pandora’s. Why had he not noticed that before? And why was he holstering his gun against his judgement? Yet holstering he was. He needed answers and he really needed a drink and a smoke again. Apparently weird can cure you of the habit one moment and curse you again the next.
“You’re dead.” He said to the woman on the right. “She’s dead.” He said to the woman on the left. “I saw her die with my own two eyes.”
“Indeed Detective Cole, Pandora is dead as can be and nothing can change that. She is here for a short time only. We’re in grave danger and we need all the help we can get.”
“Who is we, what are we in danger of? If she’s dead why in the name of Christ is she up and about as alive as can be? And forgive me for speaking ill of the dead and all, but wasn’t she crazy when she shot herself? As a slight afterthought…” he held up his bandaged hand where Doyle had stuck him with the nail and which now held the iron ring, “What is all this about?”
“Questions which will be answered in good time I’m sure, but perhaps if we start at the beginning of all this you’ll better understand what we’re facing and why we need your help.” Jake edged himself to the chair on which Pandora had originally been perched when he entered the room and settled into the soft cushions.
“I’ve seen all kinds of crazy today,” he took out his cigarettes and crushed the box in his fist before laying it on the table beside him. “Ladies who shoot themselves with my own gun. Dead men talking to me in mirrors and green eyes glowing in the dark as I go a little out of my own mind. Dead folk wrapped in positions no contortionist could ever get into or out of and then old friends who stab me with nails and tell me fairies rule the world.” He sighed with the weight of a man who knew there was more weirdness to come before he would finally sleep. “Hit me with your best shot girls. I’m all ears.”
*****
He was Mark, but not her Mark. Head throbbing where the egg sized lump at the base of her skull still bled lightly down the back of her neck, Diane opened her eyes only a slit to view the crazed person who looked like Mark and sounded like Mark ranted and paced past the doorway in the next room.
Her hands were tied behind her back. Fingers lightly working the knots as best she could, she felt her phone pressed against her left thigh in the pocket of her slacks. If she could just get one hand free…
The knives lay across the room, reflecting the mad man she had once known as he paused in the doorway and looked at her. Eyes shut she held her breath and prayed he would begin his pacing and ranting once more.
If he knew she was awake she was dead. She knew that more certainly than she knew anything in this life, however short it may soon become.
*****
Startling eyes even more so when paired, both green and blue looked at him intently but with sincerity. He knew he was about to believe whatever they told him. It was Lyric who spoke first. The difference in their voices apparent now that they were together. Pandora spoke with a cool breeze, Lyric with the slight warmth of honey.
“We,” she started, glancing briefly to Pandora, “are what are known as Half-folk. The Fae, not to be confused with fairies, who are nothing but cute fantasy, are an ancient and powerful race who occupy a world that exists in and around the world that we live in. Almost touching, the Fae can only enter our world in a dream-like form, a kind of glamour. They can make a waking man dream or remember things he has no knowledge of knowing and speak to them in their minds”
“I’ve seen that show sister. Not a fun ride, if you ask me.”
Pandora smiled wickedly “That all depends on who’s giving the ride my friend.” Lyric looked for a moment as though she had swallowed a bug before smoothing her features and carrying on.
“Witches, humans with mystical powers, are the only people who can communicate with the Fae. Performing their tasks and relaying information. Half-folk are a rare breed of witch, so rare that we know of only one other of our kind in the city. One foot in this world and one in the world of the Fae we are identified by our eyes. We have always been of interest to the Fae, the powerful and not so pleasant kin have sought to find some connection between our people and their world which would allow them physical access to the human world.
Three years ago I came up against one of these Fae. A very powerful creature named Lucian. He stalked me, entered my dreams and called to me in my head every waking moment until I thought I would go out of my mind. The witch community gave me shelter. Broke the bond he had formed against my will and hid me from the world. I stayed hidden until today when my sister called out to me.”
She pulled the sweater tighter around her shoulders and reached out to her sister.
“The message was garbled and made no sense. I only understood that she needed my help and that we were all in danger. I needed to get to the other of our kind. Jimmy Dicarlo.”
Jake sat up straight as the air sailed out of him. “Father Jimmy Dicarlo? As in James Francis DiCarlo the priest?”
Surprise fluttered across the face of both twins like the wings of a butterfly. “Yes. He’s a priest at St. Joseph’s church.”
*****
Her hands were slippery now. The skin abraded from her fingertips from the coarse rope they bled and hindered her but she knew the ropes were coming loose a little at a time and soon enough she would have a hand free.
Please just let him keep up his insanity a little longer. A voice sounded in the hallway, “Where is the horrid little sow?”
She knew that voice. Opening her eyes to a slit she tried to focus on the face she didn’t want to see. Her blood ran cold as ice in her veins.
*****
“I know Jimmy.” He exclaimed, “He’s been our family priest for as long as I can remember. I married my wife in his church.”
“Is that why you were there?”, whispered Pandora
“My wife asked me to visit with him. To get our marriage annulled. But what about you? What were you doing there and why did you shoot yourself?”
“This is where things get complicated. When Lyric disappeared the witches couldn’t tell me where she was. Only that Lucian had tried to drive her insane. I moved into her apartment and kept it in her name for when she would come home. I spent the rest of my time trying to find Lucian. But Fae are difficult to find if they don’t want to be found, even by the like of us.
Eventually though, about three months ago, he found me all by himself. After he had, I wished he hadn’t. He tortured me. Day and night until I was completely out of my mind. What we didn’t know when he tormented Lyric, is that he has found the link. A way to enter our world.
Drive a member of Half-folk out of their mind and there is space left in there for a Fae to enter. Our place between worlds mean the Fae would be able to interact and use their powers, a fully physical presence in this world. When I met you, he was there. Inside my head all cold and slimy and I couldn’t get back in control. I went looking for Jimmy to help me. By the time I got there, I knew it was too late. And then I saw you and the gun. I was desperate. I did the only thing I could.” She lifted her shoulders lightly in half apology and half a touch of sorrow.
Lyric gave her hand a squeeze, “And then I picked up her sweater and used it to bring her back. But then again you already knew that, you saw our little light display before you took off to look for her body.” She gave a little smile “Had you stuck around for a few minutes I would have saved you a trip to the morgue. She would have just turned up here.”
He smiled at her in spite of himself. “Ok, so you two I can understand. But where do I come into all of this? Doyle said my family are witches.”
Lyric nodded. “From your mother’s side the Constantino line stretches back as far as the lines have been traced. We had thought the line died out a few generations ago.”
Pandora raised an eyebrow. “He’s a Constantino?”
“Bold as brass” Replied Lyric.
“And my Father, he was a hunter of some kind according to Doyle. He ‘clipped wings’.”
“He did what?!” Both voices at once, the twins leaned towards him with a new urgency. For once the calm stripped bare from their faces.
“Doyle, my pal.” He held up his hand, “The one who stuck me with the nail, he told me. My Mother’s family were witches and my Father was a hunter of some kind, clipping fairies wings.” He was sure he hadn’t heard incorrect but the look on the faces before him made him more than a little uncertain.
“He’s been in our city the whole time.” Whispered Lyric. Pandora nodded. “Right under our noses and we never even knew it. The prophecy could be true.”
“Who’s been in the city? What prophecy?”
“You Jake. Detective Jacob Constantino Cole. Your father is Half-folk. Hunter is a name for male Half-folk. Women heal and aid witches and humans with the good Fae, men hunt out the bad and ensure balance. The son of a lost witch line and a Half-folk. You’re something very special indeed Jake. A prophecy tells of a child born to such a man as you and a first love who would be the Hunter King. A Half-folk of such power that he would forever tip the balance of the Fae to the good.”
Jake felt the weight of his son. Patrick the Hunter King? He knew he wasn’t the man in their prophecy. His first love was now the love of another man, but now was not the time to tell them his life story. He dismissed their prophecy nonsense with a wave of his hand.
“What about Father Jimmy? Is he in danger? You said he was the third right, so if he’s some sort of hunter this Lucian dude has to be looking for him somewhat.”
Pandora blanched. “Good God Lyric. I never even thought! I was on my way to see Jimmy. Lucian has to know what he is, he was inside my head. We’ve sat here this entire time and he could’ve been attacking Jimmy for god knows how long. He’s at least twice as strong now as he was before he got inside my head.”
Jake was already on his feet. “Then we had better get over there right now!” His phone rang as they headed for the door. He answered it without thinking.
“Jake?” Diane’s whispered and frantic tones issued to his ear.
“Diane?”
“Oh God Jake, help me! Mark has gone insane. I’m tied up. There are knives in here!!” Her voice rose an octave or two even for her whisper. “Jake, Father Dicarlo is here. There’s something horribly wrong with his eyes. Oh my God, they’re coming back in!”
The line went dead…
Looking at his silent phone Jake knew he was grey as ash. Turning to the twins he almost choked on his words, “Lucian has my wife.”
……………………………………………………………………………………..
Tune in for the final Chapter next week, where we go back to the beginning! I can’t wait.
What Silly People Say