The Fetch (The Retro Terror Series #1), page 12
He nodded. “I’m fine. I’m just going to get some water.” He climbed out of the bed, his legs a little wobbly and made his way through the dark to the bathroom.
“I want you to make that doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” Julia called after him.
“I will.” He nodded again and again as he slipped a paper cup from the dispenser on the wall and filled it with water. He stared at himself in the mirror, and his eyes widened at the creases in his face. He looked like he’d aged…overnight. He sucked down the water in one gulp and crushed the cup in the palm of his hand.
“First, there’s something more important I have to do.”
* * *
Isabelle signed a stack of forms at her desk with a heavy hand; more of them sat at the corner of her desk as the computer terminal behind her idled behind with its green cursor blinking. She relished last night’s success and the disposal of yet another thorn in her side. Good riddance.
The terminal screen filled with static the moment a knock came to her door.
“Come in.” She continued to write without looking up, as Jake entered the room.
He shut the door behind him and walked right up to her desk. “You and I have to talk.” His tone couldn’t be more series. She sensed the hostility emanating from him. She looked up at him now, his face flushed. “How can I help you, Jake?”
“You can start by dropping the charade. I know what you are. I’m the same; I found out the day I saved you from falling on your ass.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about,” she replied with a smile. “What’s this about?”
“Enough games. You want me to prove it to you?”
Jake took a few steps back into the center of the room, clenching his hands into fists. He closed his eyes, and the room came to life. The stack of files on Isabelle’s desk soared into the air, and fluttered to the floor like white feathers. Her desk trembled and shook beneath her, and the paintings snapped from the walls and fell to the floor. The blinds rattled, and her computer blinked on and off.
Her eyes widened with understanding as a sliver fear coursed through her. Raising the sleeve of her suit jacket, she found the parchment that was bound to her wrist. Her hand hovered above it, and she wanted to call for her spirit to protect her, but no—she would not show Jake that she was weak nor play her full hand. If another sorcerer dared to challenge her she would not back down.
“It’s you!” She snarled, “You’re the reason why everything’s been so off lately! You’re adept in the practice like me.”
“You and I are nothing alike.” Jake raised his voice, and released control of the room. He approached her desk again. “I know you killed Nicholas and Michelle and your lover…Stuart. I know all about them even that little curse you put under Matthew’s desk. That’s right I found it and destroyed its dark magic.
Isabelle was stunned. Adrenaline pumped through her body. She wanted to lash out at him, to crush his bones, hurl him against the wall and rend the flesh from his body but somehow she managed to control her anger. “Fine. Now you know what I am, and I know what you are, so what?”
“I’m going to stop you.”
“Oh, really?” She smirked, “You think so? What makes you think you even can?”
“I know that I am probably just as strong as you are, and maybe stronger. Remember, I knew exactly what you were, and you still had no idea about me. What’s the matter? Your keen sense didn’t alert you to a sorcerer in your midst?”
Isabelle was silent; she knew he was right, her powers had not detected that Jake was a follower of the arts. She had never sensed it, and to her, that meant another weakness, as Jake had just so kindly pointed out. She despised it; she would never allow herself to believe that she had any weaknesses.
“No matter,” she finally answered. “My defenses are as strong as ever. If you had attacked me, I would have known immediately—but there’s no need for that. You’ve revealed yourself to me. Great plan. I’m warning you, don’t get in my way Jake, or you’ll be sorry.”
“I plan to do more than get in your way. You’re never going to harm another person here, again. I’m going to see to that, here, and now.”
She giggled. “You’re a feisty one, Jake. I like that. Just try to stop me. A battle of wills. You think you can beat me?”
“I do.” Jake didn’t hesitate. “But, we must keep it strictly outside of work. We don’t need our secret lives exposed to the world.”
“Agreed,” Isabelle said with a nod. “But all else is fair game, and I play for keeps. Do you think you can handle it? You think you have what it takes to kill someone? Because that’s what it’s going to take. I’m never going to stop. Not until I have it all.”
He smiled, backing slowly away from her desk, and snapped his fingers. She felt a tear split up the back of her dress. “I can handle more than you think.” With that, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Damn him!
Isabelle slammed her fist down on her desk and checked the back of her dress. That bastard. She slipped it off and flung it across her desk, using her powers to try to mend it back together. She certainly couldn’t stroll around the office the rest of the day with a torn dress
How did I not know about Jake? He was right under my nose the whole time. What in Hell? His psychic defenses must really be good. He doesn’t allow any of the black arts to detect him. She paced and paced as her dressed stitched back together. That son of a bitch…he’s gotta go. There’s no way I’m letting him destroy everything I’ve worked for. He wants a fight, I’ll give him a fight. He’ll wish he never met me.
She needed to find out everything she could about him. There was going to be hell to pay.
* * *
What did I just do? Panic gripped Jake. He just barely managed to reach his desk without collapsing; sweat soaked his face. Shit, he was scared right now, his whole life was about to be turned upside down but he couldn’t let her keep on killing people. He just couldn’t. What good was this power if he didn’t do something about it.
He just prayed to the Goddess that he was strong enough to do it. All is fair—my family! I need to protect them. I need to up my defenses. Will she target them? Shit, shit, shit. What have I done? WHAT have I done?
The Fire Spreads
Lydia sat on the couch, reading the newspaper, while Vic was watched TV and ate a sandwich. There was a strange silence between them. Eve since the incident in Isabelle’s garden, things had been just a little different; both of them had been on edge. They’d rearranged the living room so that the TV and furniture were faced away from the windows that windows that overlooked Isabelle’s house.
Lydia stirred and fidgeted. She was even angrier than before if that was even possible. All she could think of was getting revenge on Isabelle. It consumed her days and nights. She couldn’t focus on the stories in the newspaper any longer. She’d read the same paragraph six times. All she could think of was Isabelle.
“It’s time to move again,” she said, without even looking from the paper in front of her face.
Vic looked at her, took another bite of his sandwich, and pretended that he hadn’t heard her.
“Soon. We have to go back, and turn her life upside-down. It’s our duty to protect our town, and drive her from it.”
“Lydia, what the hell is wrong with you?” He sighed, and rolled his eyes. He wanted to be left alone. “Didn’t you learn anything from the last time? We could have been killed. That thing, whatever it was, nearly did us in. I’m not going back there.”
“Victor,” she yelled, as she crumbled up the newspaper, “If we don’t, then no one will. She is evil; that animal she has is probably some rare bird that she has in captivity.”
“One that generates fire?”
“It all happened so fast; we don’t know that it was really fire. There were probably electric wires going through that garden, that she rigged up as a trap.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. My hand was almost French-fried; I know what I felt! I’m not going back there anymore!”
“So you’d just let her destroy our neighborhood? Maybe even our whole town? You’re so supportive. Damn it, Vic, if you won’t help me, then I’ll do it myself!”
She got up, and stormed from the room.
In the dead of night, Lydia stood outside on her patio, staring up at the third floor of Isabelle’s home. A feeling of dread filled her.
* * *
For hours until the early morning Isabelle sat her ritual room, meditating on what lay ahead, preparing for battle. For this, she sought council.
The Fetch hovered in front of her, just above the floor. She looked up at him, noticing the foul stench that just permeated the room, and forced herself to stare into his fearsome face.
“You have summoned me, Mistress.”
“A powerful enemy has made himself known to me,” she replied, maintaining her air of authority. She thought this was very important when dealing with demons. He was the servant. She was the master. “Soon, we will wage a battle on one another. I want you to oversee this battle, and stand ready to come to my defense, should I require it.”
“Tell me his name, Mistress, show me his essence. I will crush him right now, for thee.”
“No, I do not wish it right now. I want to have a little fun with him. I’m sure that I can beat him. I’m the most powerful witch of our time.”
“You are, Mistress, you are.” A smile came to the beast, knowing, conniving. Isabelle paid it no mind.
“You flatter me, spirit, but I want to defeat him, myself, and prove that I am the better sorcerer. I want you to charge me against his attacks, so that I may win this fight. Do that for me, and stay on guard, should he penetrate my defenses. I will have other missions for you in the meantime. Now, go to your place of waiting, until I require you again.”
“As you wish, Mistress.” A dark blue light enveloped the demon before he vanished from sight.
Isabelle left the room to get some sleep; the duel would come soon enough.
* * *
He had to protect his family. Jake had just finished putting the circle of salt around the two lit white candles. Each candle was carved: one with Julia, and the other with Krystal. He stood, dressed in his white robe, and approached the altar. With his silver chalice, he baptized the candles. “Lady Habdonia, Lord Horned One, Dual Deity, I beseech you. I call upon you in my time of need—I, who have honored you and your ways. Do not abandon me at this time. I ask that you show your love to my dear family, and protect them from all the evil and negative power of this world. Protect them when I cannot, protect them when I am away, and protect them when I engage my enemy. For this, I beg of you. So mote it be.”
Jake left the ritual chamber, and began sprinkling a protective powder around his house while reciting the ancient chant of protection. “Lady Habdonia, Lord Horned One, in your great arms, I place this house, and all who reside here. Charge the force that safeguards us. By the burning sun and glimmering moon, by midnight’s hour, and daylight’s noon, protect us all the days of our lives. I thank thee, old Mighty Ones.”
As his loved ones slept, Jake continued around the house, to brace against the oncoming attack. This was the calm before the worst storm he had ever seen. After this, he would meditate until the sun came up—a requirement of this grand protection ceremony. He would feel like the dead in the morning, but it was worth it to keep his wife and daughter safe. He only prayed that all of this was enough.
* * *
The first day back at work had come and gone; both Isabelle and Jake had done a perfect job of pretending that the other did not exist. The whole office was none the wiser. Each had kept their word and it was business as usual. Especially for Isabelle. She knew Jake would be worried about his family, himself, setting up protections and warding off any of her attacks. She’d let him sweat it out a while she focused her energy on someone else. Jake would spend all of his efforts waiting for her attack that he’d never expect her to take time out for some fun.
After getting Michelle out of the way, Isabelle thought that it was time to lure David to her side. Due to Stuart’s untimely demise, she was in desperate need for some male companionship.
At dusk, she left her house, wearing a backless black dress shimmering with sequins and beads. She climbed into her car, and sped off to find David’s home.
It didn’t take her long to find his home; it was most familiar to her, as she had seen it many times in her mirror. The gray color was not too drab, the driveway had been recently tarred, and the yard was well groomed. David cared about a lot of things; maybe he would care about her, as well.
After stepping out of the car, she noticed the cool breeze pick up, which sent chills down her back. She was beginning to feel underdressed. Glancing upward, she noticed the black storm clouds gathering: dark and opposing, with a soft rumbling in the distance. Quickly, she ran to David’s front door, and knocked, hoping to avoid the rain.
David’s eyes nearly jumped from their sockets when he opened the door. He tried to talk but was unable to get out a word. Isabelle noticed was quite thin now, and had dark circles under his eyes.
“May I come in?” she asked, prompting some form of communication. “The sky’s about to open up; I don’t want to get soaked.”
“I-I-I guess so…” he answered softly and stepped aside. He was sluggish, his steps seeming to take a lot of effort. He stopped and turned to her: “Why are you here?” He gave her the once-over, staring at her dress in bewilderment. “I haven’t seen anyone, since…”
“I know,” she answered. “That’s why I came. I’m so sorry for you. I came to see if I could help in any way. I want you to know that I’m here for you, David. Come sit and talk with me.” She escorted him to his couch.
“I don’t need any help; I don’t need anyone. I’m fine…I have to deal with this myself. This is not a good time, Isabelle. I can’t see anyone. I don’t know what you want, but I think you should leave.”
“No, I can see that you need me, David. I can’t leave you, now.”
“I don’t need you. Please leave,” he repeated, growing defensive, and angry.
“David, I know it’s me who you’ve been calling out for… wanting, and desiring.” She ran one hand over his leg, and the other through his soft hair. “You need me to guide you, to fill you with life, again. What happened was good for you; it set you free. I can make you forget her.” She leaned over and kissed him; long, and passionate, it seemed to drain him of all resistance.
He grabbed Isabelle with both hands, closing his eyes and wincing in pain. ” Stop it! I see her…I see her dying in my arms. I remember being in your house but not knowing how I got there. It’s impossible but I know you had something to do with it!”
He pushed her away and jumped off the couch. “Get out!”
Thunder clapped outside and the rain poured. “You can’t be serious,” she said with surprise. “Forget her! You need me, not her!”
His eyes widened with rage, as he stormed toward her. “Get the hell out!” He took her by the arm, dragged her to the front door, shoving her out into the rain.
Seething, she stood there as the rain beat down upon her, matting her hair, and soaked her dress. “Damn him to the fires of hell for this!” She yanked her left arm up and rubbed the parchment fastened to her wrist. “Come O Spirit, Come Fetch, I demand your presence.”
The creature appeared in a flash of lightning. Towering over her, its shadowy form like roiling thunder clouds. “Yes, Mistress.”
Isabelle spun around, startled. “I demand the death of David Willis for his humiliation and scorning of me. I haven’t the time or energy to go home and devise my vengeance; take care of it, swift and sure! Deliver him death for his insolence!”
“As you wish, Mistress,” it replied, and then vanished with the next strike of lightning. Isabelle got a fleeting glimpse of its menacing features in the fading light, before she headed to her car.
* * *
Tears ran down David’s face as he shuffled into his bedroom. He left the lights off, and simply crawled into his bed. Thunder rocked, his house creaked and settled, and winds howled outside his window, as lightning briefly illuminated his room. A knock came to his door, the moment he tried to close his eyes. It was hard and booming.
“Isabelle, I told you to leave!” He stormed to the door and threw it open. No one was on the other side. David sighed, feeling the rain brush past his bare feet, and shut the door. When he turned to leave the room, the knock came again. Stopping dead, he turned and ran to the door, and jerked it open in mid-knock. Again, there was no one there.
“What the fuck!” Another knock came, this time from the door in the kitchen. Slamming the front door shut, David ran to the kitchen, and opened it, but, again, there was no one there. “Stop this shit or I’m calling the cops!”
He stood with the door hanging open, and the wind and rain blowing in on him. A smash, like shattering glass, came from his bedroom. “Shit, someone’s in the house!” He rushed to one of his kitchen drawers and grabbed a knife. He crept down the hall, as silently as he could, with the knife tightly in his hand.
When he reached his bedroom, he saw nothing, except that the picture of Michelle on his nightstand was now on the floor, and the glass was smashed. “Michelle?” He laid down the knife, and picked up the picture.
Another crash of thunder broke his thoughts, and his entire house shifted; David plunged to the floor. It was no thunder; it was more like a small earthquake, nearly uprooting his entire house. As he lay there, a flash of lightning lit up his room again, and he saw the knife lift into the air.
“What’s the hell?” With the knife, he saw a hulking figure standing in the back of the room. “Who’s there?” He demanded, and his answer was the knife, as it flew down on him, and sliced him across the face.
A thin line of blood dampened his cheek, as the knife circled back, and stopped in front of his forehead. Then, it jabbed his head, and dragged all the way down the length of his body. “Help! Somebody help!” He yelped and crawled to where he last thought his phone might be.
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