Axeman, page 1
part #2 of Revenant Files Series
Axeman: Cycle of Death
Revenant Files™ Book Two
D'Artagnan Rey
Michael Anderle
The Axeman: Cycle of Death Team
Thanks to our Beta Team:
Kelly O’Donnell, Larry Omans, John Ashmore
Thanks to our JIT Team:
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Zacc Pelter
Dorothy Lloyd
Angel LaVey
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
SkyHunter Editing Team
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Books By D'Artagnan Rey
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with Michael
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2021 LMBPN Publishing Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing Michael Anderle Production
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Version 1.00, October 2021
eBook ISBN: 978-1-68500-500-9
Print ISBN: 978-1-68500-501-6
Chapter One
An uncommon stillness claimed the early morning hours of New Orleans. It was The Big Easy rather than The City That Never Sleeps but there was always a bustle in the streets while music issued from the many clubs, parks, or busking corners. For the last three days or so, it had become eerily quiet after sundown.
Some of it had to do with the murder spree that had raged through the city over the last few months, which made people more cautious. In addition, the rampage on Royal Street that resulted in over thirty deaths in less than an hour must be a record. The monster was vanquished, however, a beast of an individual who called himself the Axman. Until now, the name was only known maybe to some of the older residents of the city and anyone with a curiosity for the morbid history of the crescent city, but it had certainly found a place on everyone’s lips since the massacre.
Of course, there was a more obvious answer if anyone cared to look around them. People in white jumpsuits and coats now patrolled the city. On this particular morning, they disrupted the silence of the very early morning when several aircraft suddenly raced toward the city, all carrying more personnel and equipment.
Valerie Simone looked out one of the windows of the police department for District Eight and sighed in annoyance as she finished pouring her coffee and the whir of a hovercraft grew louder when it flew overhead. She replaced the pot and returned quickly to the meeting room, where several high-ranking members of the police and most of the supernatural department awaited.
“And what the hell was that noise?” Police Chief Shemar asked. “Was that another squad of your goons?”
An older woman in a white suit adjusted her glasses. Valerie had learned only the evening before that her name was Sarah Lovett. “That sounds like one of our hovercraft,” she replied, her voice monotone. “It’s more than likely filled with several members of our recon and lab divisions, along with some important equipment, not goons as you call them.”
She was accompanied by three other members of the Supernatural Exorcism Agency, often referred to as SEA or simply the Agency in places with a high ghost residence, which meant anywhere that would be concerned if they knocked on their door.
The young officer sipped her caffeine and remained silent. She was more surprised that it had taken this long for the Agency to arrive in New Orleans. The last time they had been there was reportedly in 2003. This fact wasn’t known to her or most of the police department until the day before when Lovett arrived and began to speak to them while her minions hurried to investigate the anomalies left in the Axman’s wake.
The department should probably have been more thankful than they were. The Agency had helped to clear up the mess the monster had left. While their presence did alarm some New Orleans citizens, others seemed to be more at ease given that if any supernatural problems remained, the Agency would no doubt deal with them.
Valerie looked at the three agents seated next to Lovett. She didn’t know two of them but had met Agent Donovan. Now and then, they would trade looks during the conversation, unlike most of the other officers who didn’t want the Agency there simply because they felt they were in the way. From what she’d heard, they didn’t want some other force looking over their shoulder or felt insulted that the supposed “calvary” had appeared too late once the problem was already resolved. She had another reason to be suspicious, as according to her new “friend,” the Agency might have a backup plan if they didn’t like what their investigation uncovered.
One that could lead to serious problems for her beloved city.
“Can you at least tell me when you will be finished?” Chief Shemar asked and snapped Valerie into the conversation again. “Your men keep running around the city and spooking the residents. I thought the Agency was more subtle than this.”
Lovett nodded slowly. “We certainly can be, as we explained yesterday when we told you about our previous investigations and missions in New Orleans over the years.”
“Uh-huh,” he remarked and looked at his tablet. “Your first investigation in the city was in 1922 shortly after the Agency was founded.”
“To be fair,” Donovan said with a hand partially raised. “New Orleans was merely one of dozens of cities the Agency looked into after its founding. We had only begun to set the groundwork to understand what kind of supernatural presence was in the US and how large it was.”
“Almost forty years after the veil tore open?” another officer remarked with a snicker. “It took you that long to do some basic stat gathering?”
Lovett regarded the officer coolly. “The SEA was established in the early twenties, but other projects and missions were run well before then. That was simply our first mission after we officially began. By that point, all the information we had gathered was years out of date.” She looked at the police chief. “We routinely returned and checked on cities to measure the fourth-dimensional population and its growth or shrinkage until the invention of the ectograph, which monitored the population on its own within a seventy-mile radius.”
“Seventy?” the officer questioned. “New Orleans proper is more than five times that.”
She nodded. “Which is why we set up more than a dozen throughout the metropolitan area and at the edges of the city. We are thorough.”
Shemar sighed. “It explains why you haven’t been back in force since the early 2000s then. Was that when you set them up?”
The woman nodded again. “In 2000 to be precise. The mission in 2003 was to look into a situation that could have been a level-three fourth-dimensional being that was summoned by an overeager unsub who wanted to meddle in forces they had no business meddling with. But they never completed their summoning as they didn’t have the correct tools.”
“Why does she keep saying fourth-dimensional?” the officer whispered to Valerie.
She shrugged. “It’s an older way of saying ghosts from back when they didn’t want to believe that what we were dealing with was ghosts.”
He tried to stifle a laugh. “Good Lord. I understand being skeptical but once actual multi-colored skeletons fly around?” He looked at the Agency co-chief. “She looks old enough to have been a rookie back when it was founded.”
“So you came running on a false alarm and didn’t even advise the acting police chief at the time that you were in town. But when an actual supernatural terror causes havoc for months you simply stand by?” Shemar challenged.
“Like we said,” Donovan began and stepped forward. “There was some kind of interference, not only with our tech but with our informants, both living and undead.” He folded his arms. “I know that to you, it appears we arrived out of the blue. I’m sorry for not giving you a heads-up but we needed to get here as quickly as we could once these…anomalies were discovered and we learned about what was happening in your city.”
“Do you not watch the news?” Valerie asked and received a bemused look from the agent.
“We saw the early reports, of course. But news changes quickly and it wasn’t a national story after the first couple of weeks.” He looked at Shemar. “From my understanding, that was you and your department trying to downplay the situation, right?”
The police chief stared at him with intense annoyance. “Technically, that was Chief Jackson, and he believed it was best to not cause alarm. The people were scared enough when those early pictures got out of what the victims looked like and we didn’t need fear to permeate the city if this turned out to be a wraith or demon that could feed on that fear.” He leaned forward. “And while he might not have done this as you would have liked, he died defending this city from that monster while you were troubleshooting your damn systems, so the…uh, constructive criticism isn’t appropriate.”
Lovett cleared her throat. “It’s a little late for that now, wouldn’t you say?” She adjusted her glasses and the glare on them from the lights in the room obscured her eyes. “While I do commend the forward-thinking, it also allowed your Axman to have more freedom and to act from the shadows and gather strength in a different way by collecting the very lifeforce of a person or fourth-dimensio—”
“Ghost,” Valerie interjected and drew all eyes in the room to her. “You can say ghost, ma’am. Most people will be more familiar with that term.” She took another sip of coffee. “We made mistakes. I’ll even add that I thought we weren’t doing enough and exploring leads that were more off the beaten path, but this wasn’t like any case I had seen or heard of before. I’m sure it was hard for Chief Jackson to understand the scope of it all along with being in charge of overseeing ordinary crime in the city.”
The woman regarded her for a moment, her lips pursed as she almost seemed like she tried to probe into the young officer’s mind. “Officer Simone, yes?” Valerie nodded. “From my understanding, you were something of the spearhead in this operation correct?”
She shrugged, careful to not spill her coffee. “I’m not sure I would go that far, ma’am. I’m part of the supernatural division of the NOPD. I was simply doing my job.”
“Indeed, even if it wasn’t necessarily sanctioned by your higher-ups.”
Shemar glowered at the Agency co-director. “Officer Simone was well within her rights to investigate the case she had been assigned to—”
“I don’t disapprove, Chief Shemar,” Lovett interrupted with a brief look at him. “I do believe protocol should be followed, but if it is ever bent, at least produce results.” She turned to Valerie. “Did you take care of the Axman in the end?”
The young officer paused and tried hastily to think of a way to not get the man responsible involved in this.
“It was a bounty hunter by the name of Johnny Despereaux, ma’am,” Donovan interjected, much to her shock and frustration. That little bastard had complicated things merely to earn points with his boss.
Surprisingly, though, Lovett seemed as frustrated as she was. “I am well aware of that, agent,” the agent muttered.
She was? Then why had she asked? It must have been some kind of test to see if she would lie. Valerie looked at Donovan, who nodded, leaned back in his chair, and looked knowingly at her.
“Tell me, Officer,” Lovett began and fixed her with an unwavering stare. “Do you happen to know where this bounty hunter is?”
Fortunately, she did not have to lie about that. “I can’t say I do. I haven’t been in contact with him since shortly before you arrived,” she explained. “The last I heard, he intended to look into some haunts for possible leads.”
Chapter Two
Johnny slid one hand into the pocket of his jeans and studied the factory, the supposed lead from the shady mobster in Limbo. It was large—three stories tall—and the roof and funnel stacks above were dilapidated, sure evidence that it had been abandoned for years. Graffiti all but covered the walls. To the left of the entrance was a caricature of a demon with a cartoonish bloody heart in its hand with the phrase, Hell awaits the good-hearted! in a stylized font beneath it.
He had to agree, at least as far as any good-hearted idiots who had the unfortunate idea to explore there, which had been the case over the last few weeks. The only reason he had decided to do so was because he was able to find a story of some missing “ghost experts” who were last reported searching around the area, even if the factory itself wasn’t mentioned. He sighed with annoyance.
Over a hundred years of knowing ghosts were real and that not all of them were exactly friendly or even simply undead humans, and people still ran around acting like they had to hunt these bastards for their big break. Only specters could see ghosts, and anyone else wouldn’t see them if the ghost didn’t want them to. Unless they were something like a phantom or zombie, of course, and most people didn’t want to see those.
The young investigator looked at a nearby tree and realized that the ‘ghost experts’ might have been right as well. He took a few steps closer, squinted at something carved into the tree, and grunted in annoyance when he recognized the symbol. It was a caller used by witches to summon the dead. While it was too faded to be of much use now, there were always leftovers when someone put one of these up.
Something scraped loudly against metal within. Johnny didn’t draw his weapon yet. Although he didn’t exactly have to worry about wasting bullets with an ether gun, he also didn’t want to give his position away by shooting at a stray cat.
“So what are you thinking?” he asked and returned his focus to the factory. “Is it worth potentially getting tetanus?”
Vic chuckled, appeared next to him, and dug in his coat to produce a loose cigarette and lighter. “That’s not a concern for me kid. If that were my only worry, I’d say to go look simply because it’s not like we have any other leads at the moment. Or maybe look around the spooky woods some more.”
“It’s always nice to know you’re looking out for my health, partner.” He groaned. “See how much longer I purchase your cigs when I have hospital bills to worry about.”
“Ha-ha.” The ghost fake-laughed before he lit his cigarette. “Speaking of spooky woods…” He nodded at the tree. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“Does it work, though?” Johnny muttered and looked at the sigil again. “You have to be one of those…uh, spirit callers—that’s what Aiyana called them, right?”
“It’s more a colloquial term,” Vic clarified. “As is the case for most of the more ‘mystical’ things, to work properly, it has to be done by someone who not only knows what they are doing but can use phantasma. But you don’t need an expert to cause problems. You can do that by fucking up right.”
He bit his lip as he studied the factory and the rusted doors again. “So you are saying there could be something in there and it has nothing to do with the Axman, merely someone dicking around with occult symbols for kicks?”
“It’s possibly like those…what do ya call them? Ouija boards.”
Johnny looked incredulously at him. “Wait, do those work?”
