The Fetch (The Retro Terror Series #1), page 1
The Fetch Copyright © 2020 by John Grover
Shadowtales Publications
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This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
First edition
Cover art by Elderlemon Design
Book design by KH Koehler Design
Contents
The Retro Terror Series
Excerpt from the All Towne Gazette – Massachusetts
Chapter 1: Phases of the Moon
Chapter 2: Duality
Chapter 3: Different Paths
Chapter 4: The Heralds
Chapter 5: Dark Discoveries
Chapter 6: Dark Desires
Chapter 7: The Gateway Opens
Chapter 8: Throwing Down the Gauntlet
Chapter 9: The Fire Spreads
Chapter 10: The First Move
Chapter 11: The Hidden Revealed
Chapter 12: Darker Deeds
Chapter 13: Opposites United
Enjoy This Story?
Read an Excerpt from Let’s Play in the Garden
Author’s Biography
Also by John Grover
The Retro Terror Series
The Fetch
Let’s Play in the Garden
Goddess of Bane
Excerpt from the All Towne Gazette – Massachusetts
April 30, 1984
Small Town Besieged by Disasters
The town of Birchwood, MA experienced a plague of natural disasters and inexplicable fires in the last 24 hours. Reports include hurricanes, tornadoes, flooding and fires in many parts of town. At least sixty people have lost their lives to the strange events and the damage is said to total in the tens of thousands. A fund is being set up for donations to help the town clean up. If you would like to donate please contact…
Phases of the Moon
It began with the flick of a flame, the reciting of words of power and the condemnation of love and innocence. It began during the moon’s waning period, when its light no longer lit up the night sky.
A single flame illuminated the third floor window of Isabelle Thicket’s historic home. The light wavered, glowing in an unnatural way, as if the old house was haunted. It was, actually, just not by ghosts. Haunted by desire. By a lonely soul hungering, thirsting for unlimited power.
A shadow wriggled in the light; basking in its glow, stretching limbs oddly at impossible angles and assuming gestures that no one had performed in thousands of years. She closed the invisible circle that would protect her during the ancient ritual with her black-hilted knife, replacing it on the huge altar before her, catching a glimpse of her reflection in her blade. The orange cat by her side—her constant companion—purred with contentment.
Candles flickered at each point of the circle as if a presence had just entered the room. Smiling, she gave her cat a short pat and lit the contents of the brass incense burner hanging from the ceiling alongside her. A pungent scent billowed into the air; notes of rotting fruit mixing with sulfur.
Each action was perfectly timed; each step of her operation calculated and deliberate. After searching her cluttered altar, she took up a brass bell, and rang it three times in every direction of her circle then lit the two black candles that flanked the top of her altar.
She picked up a small vial of clear oil and poured it into the palm of her left hand, using it to rub onto her candles to consecrate them. The cat purred again. The temperature in the room dropped.
Among the altar, laden with a host of exotic, ancient articles and tools rested a small wooden box in the shape of a coffin. She picked it up and lifted it slowly into the air, holding it before the inverted pentagram etched onto her wall. She mumbled in another language then set the coffin down between the candles.
Inside the coffin was a red wax figure, in the shape of a man. She stood it up on its feet, among the garlic and wormwood that filled the rest of the box. On the chest of the figure the name NICHOLAS was carved backwards.
She poured more clear oil into her hands and rubbed the man-shaped candle from head to toe before loosening her black robe to drop to the floor. Standing naked in the room; her fiery red hair cascading over milk-white shoulders; her nipples red and hard, she dipped her fingers into the oil one last time and rubbed the it all over her breasts, belly, face, and buttocks. Lastly, she lit the figure candle and dropped to her knees, reciting the final words of her curse from memory:
“Lord of darkness and chaos, see the man I place before you. By my will I inflict malediction, I smite this life from this existence. By forces of rage and fury, by the untamed and unholy, I command the destruction of this man. Conjured be, cursed be, bind him to the earth and sea. So mote it be!”
Thunder crashed, breaking the tormenting silence, and then lightning flashed through the drawn shades. A night that had been filled with glimmering stars was no more, as black clouds, which had suddenly appeared from nowhere, engulfed the skies.
Her mind’s eye floated a few miles away where a house sat silent, embraced in darkness, its residents unaware, slumbering peacefully inside. The storm raged in the skies, ravaging the small town of Birchwood, Massachusetts. With a vivid flash, a beam of lightning streaked across the sky, and struck the defenseless house. The roof ignited, and, in moments, the whole house was ablaze. The walls crumpled like paper, the roof collapsed, and black smoke streamed into the air.
Every candle in the room blew out, except for the figure candle, which, instead, burst into flames, and melted down in front of her. A smile of victory curled onto her face, and she stood. The storm had stopped, vanished as quickly as it had come.
With an almost giddy laughter, she dismissed the forces that she had raised and dissolved her protective circle with her knife. After clothing herself, and cleaning up, Isabelle Thicket, sorceress of the night, went to bed, confident that her deed was done.
* * *
Jake Norse exited the elevator feeling refreshed, having had one of the best night’s sleep of his life. He hadn’t even noticed last night’s mysterious storm that ripped through town then vanished.
Not a strand of his dusty brown hair was out of place and there was a glint in his blue eyes. Today he wore his black suspenders instead of his belt, and a white dress shirt. It was the outfit his wife, Julia, thought he looked his most handsome in. He made his way across the busy office to the coffee pot and poured himself a hot cup. He turned quickly toward his desk, not a care in the world and nearly collided with a woman carrying a box of donuts.
“Sorry, Nina.” Jake called.
“Good morning to you, too, Jake,” Nina Brundage said, as she placed the donuts for the office on the counter, and grabbed the pot of coffee. “Did you sleep through that thunderstorm okay?”
Jake paused. “Thunderstorm? There was a storm last night?” He took a small sip of his coffee.
“It was a short one; you probably missed it altogether. It came and went, just like that.” Nina snapped her fingers. “It sure was loud, though—woke me out of a dead sleep. At first, I thought it was an atomic bomb, or something. Want a donut?” She lifted a chocolate donut out of the box.
“No, thanks.” Jake turned to watch the double glass doors in the front of the office swing open. A red-haired woman walked through them.
Nina joined Jake’s side, and turned to watch her approach. “Well, would you look at that. Miss perfect isn’t the first one here, for a change. Could she be late? Oh, dear me.” Nina joked. “Biggest ass kisser you ever did see. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she was sleeping with Matthew.”
Isabelle strutted across the office as if she owned it, dressed in a blue skirt suit with a white blouse underneath, and a string of genuine pearls encircling her neck. Under her arm, she held her ever-present black leather pocket book, which matched her high heels. She walked past the two of them as quick as she could, a breeze stirring in her wake. Jake smelled her sweet, enchanting perfume, something like cherry blossoms but he wasn’t quite sure. Like him, not a strand of her hair was out of place, not a wrinkle in her suit.
“Time for work, Jake.” Nina shrugged, her voice yanking him out of Isabelle’s allure.
Jake heard every computer terminal switch on, one by one. You could set your watch to it. 9am on the dot, everyone towed the line. Their boss, Matthew Reiner would have it no other way. In mere moments, the office was alive and buzzing. Phones started to ring off the hooks, and computers were running non-stop; files were corrected, erased, and categorized. Once again, the home office of the Birchwood Credit Bureau was hard at work.
“Hey, Jake, how are you doing my man?” Sal Morelli said from the desk beside his own, a huge, cheerful smile on his face, as always.
“Not too bad. How about yourself, Sal?” Jake returned, a half-smile forming on his face.
“Can’t complain. But the day is still young.” Sal said.
“Haha, I hear ya. How are the boys?”
“It’s his age, Sal; give him time.”
“How about Julia and Krystal? How are they?”
“Never better… and Krystal loves school,” he laughed.
“Isabelle, could I see you in my office for a moment, please?” Matthew Reiner poked his head out from behind his office door. He seemed slightly distressed. Jake picked up on it right away.
Isabelle rose from her desk, and walked past everyone with a strange air of confidence. Several other co-workers looked up from their terminals to watch her every step.
“Mama Mia,” Sal said. “There’s something different about Isabelle today.”
“Down boy,” Jake snickered, as he watched her disappear into Reiner’s office.
* * *
“Please, sit down,” Matthew said, as he ushered Isabelle into one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “I really hate to deliver such good news with such a tragedy, but I just can’t seem to do it any other way.”
“Just spit it out, Matthew,” Isabelle said, anticipating his every word.
“A position has opened up: Floor Manager. The executives feel that you’re the best choice. Nicolas Graham and his family were killed in a fire last night. Lightning—” he paused to catch his breath.
A smile almost curled onto Isabelle’s face. “That’s awful. I know how much it hurts but please, go on,” she said.
“It’s a horrible, horrible tragedy. He was a good man.”
“Of course, he was,” she said, trying to sound convincing.
“Plans have been made to send donations and flowers. It’s so sudden that they’re still trying to sort it all out. Nevertheless, the position is empty, and the company wants it filled. So, congratulations: you’ve been promoted. You’re the new Floor Manager. I’m sorry that it had to come to you this way; I know you strive to advance yourself in the company through hard work.”
“Think nothing of it,” she said. “By tomorrow, I won’t even remember how I got the job. Thank you, sir, thank you very much. You won’t regret it. I’ll start moving my things into the office next door, right now.” She shook his hand, while staring straight into his eyes, watching him grow uncomfortable as if he’d just been accused of hitting on her. She held his hand a few moments too long, enjoying watching him squirm, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead before she let go and started out of the room, flashing a smile at Reiner before shutting the door behind her.
Heads rose when Isabelle walked out of the office she liked the attention. Craved it. They whispered, they stared until they noticed the maintenance man, removing Nicholas Graham’s name from the office door next to Matthew’s. Isabelle loaded everything into her arms, and began toward the office door. Jake got up and opened the door for her.
“Thank you, Jake.” Isabelle said.
“What happened?” Jake asked. “Was Nicholas fired, or something?”
“A terrible tragedy,” Isabelle replied; her voice seemingly filled with remorse. “He and his whole family were killed in a fire last night. It’s just awful; he was a good man. They gave me a promotion to Floor Manager; can you believe it? I’m just sorry that it had to come to me in such a way.”
“Yes, of course. How awful about Nicholas. Ah…but… congratulations on the promotion, Isabelle.”
“Thanks for your help.” She smiled, and stared for a moment into Jake’s eyes.
He stared back into hers, unmoving. The whole office was silent until, at last, he found his voice, regained his senses, the office phones starting to ring again. “You’re welcome,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He let the door close behind him, and returned his desk. Isabelle watched him walk away from the window of her door. Nice ass. She set some stuff on her new desk and sighed.
* * *
“What’s up?” Sal whispered, as Jake sat down, and stared blankly into his computer screen.
“Nicholas is dead.”
“Dead!” Sal was shocked, as were the rest of the co-workers. “My God, what happened?”
“A terrible fire last night wiped out his entire family… his wife, and three daughters. Isabelle is taking his place.”
Sal just shook his head in disbelief.
“They didn’t waste any time. Isabelle got the promotion?” Nina cried. “That’s not right. Jake, you deserve it more than she does; you work ten times harder, and you always put in overtime. When does she? You know you were the next in line—even Nicholas said that you were. It’s Reiner… that tramp has got him wrapped around her finger so tightly that his eyes are gonna pop out!”
“Nina, calm down,” Jake said. “What’s done is done; it can’t be changed, now. You can’t put the blame on Reiner, either; I’m sure he’s only following orders
“It’s still not fair,” Nina mumbled. “To Nicholas, you, or anyone.”
“Alright, people!” Isabelle stood in the doorway of her new office, and clasped her hands together loudly. “Enough talking; back to work!” Isabelle’s eyes suddenly narrowed to slits as she noticed David Willis and Michelle Strong walking through the office doors late, again. Jake followed Isabelle’s eyes right to them.
Everyone in the office knew David and Michelle had been seeing each other regularly, and the relationship was getting pretty serious. The company frowned upon relationships between employees but they didn’t interfere in them. It was no secret why they were always late. Jake could tell how much it irritated Isabelle; her eyes became inflamed, her lips tightened, almost twisting into a snarl. It was obvious she despised Michelle, because Isabelle had always wanted David for herself—even right now, as she watched him walk through the office.
“Michelle and David, could you both please come into my office?” Isabelle asked firmly.
“Who the hell does she think she is?” Michelle mouthed to David. “What is she doing in that office?”
“Don’t start,” David said. “Let’s just go see what she wants.”
Jake watched the two them walked into her office, and shut the door behind them. How he wished he could be a fly on that wall.
* * *
Isabelle leaned against her desk with her arms folded, and her right leg rubbing gently against her left. Her eyes met David’s, but he was at a loss, and felt incredibly awkward.
“Yes?” Michelle demanded.
“I am the new Floor Manager now,” Isabelle began, “Which means I’m now your supervisor, and this will not be tolerated. I will not have tardiness in my office; it makes for an inefficient workplace, and gives a bad reputation our department, as well as myself a bad reputation. Understood?”
“Isabelle, look.” Michelle began “We—”
“I don’t want excuses!” Isabelle thundered, cutting Michelle off. “If you want to keep your positions here then you won’t let it happen again,” she began walking toward the pair. “You know, you should stay on my good side. Being with me, instead of against me, can be very rewarding,” she said softly as she eyed David.
“We’ll take that into consideration, Ms. Thicket. It won’t happen again,” David said.
Isabelle could see the rage bubbling inside of Michelle but she kept it carefully bottled up.
“We apologize,” David continued. “And we’ll try to be more respectful.”
“Good.” Isabelle smiled.
“Excuse us.” David put his hand on Michelle’s lower back and ushered her from the office. They closed door behind them and David suddenly seemed to be seemed spellbound—completely enchanted. Not a sound came out of him.
* * *
Jake turned to see Michelle storm off with David chasing right after her.
“Michelle! Michelle!”
“Why’d you apologize to her?” Michelle shouted. “You made us both look like idiots. She talked to us like we were children.”
There was a hush in the office. Jake stared in awe.
“That bitch!” Michelle continued. “She won’t get away with this, I promise her that.”
Duality
Jake pulled into the driveway of the home he planned to spend the rest of his life in. It was a work in progress. He considered himself pretty handy and every now and then, would repair something, replace something, or build onto the house. He wanted it to be exactly the way that he and his wife, Julia, had imagined it but mostly he just wanted his life companion, his partner, the center of his universe to be happy.
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