SquidgeWorld Archive

Nightmare Syndicate
by Lucinda Siverling, with Jodi Siverling

Alexa turned, and the street behind her was empty. Bloody footsteps showed where she had passed. She could smell the sharp, coppery tang of blood in the air. Part of it was hers, running down the right side of her face from the slash across her scalp, the slash that had removed a section of her curling golden locks. Chill, stagnant air, that tried to keep her from moving, from running, turned her flesh to leaden ice. It was gaining on her. She could hear the hissss of scales on the street. She thought that she could smell the horrible, sulfurous stench of it's breath......

Alexa sat up, her heart pounding, blood racing, her eyes open to the darkness of her room. Her lungs ached, begging for air. Desperately, she forced clenched muscles to relax, and carefully inhaled. She was awake now, and in her own room, not in the empty streets. It had been another nightmare, the one that she had dreamed before. She tried to ignore the fact that they were getting worse. Each dream, the images were more vivid, the smells sharper, pain more clearly felt. In every dream, she had been someone else. The first dream, she had been an elderly black woman. In the second, she had been a Hispanic boy, perhaps seventeen, wearing a blue bandanna. The third dream had been from the perspective of a red-haired woman in high heels.

The first night, she had woken up screaming. Kara, her roommate, had ranted at her about waking up people that had normal day-jobs. The hostility in her voice and ranting had stunned Alexa enough that she hadn't even attempted to explain what had happened. She had managed not to scream after that. She knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

She turned on the lamp at her bedside table. It was an antique style brass lamp, with an off-white lampshade. Alexa got up, and pulled on a pair of faded jeans an old T-shirt. Her head hurt, a sharp, throbbing pain on her right temple. She pulled a pair of socks onto her feet. Her clock read four a.m.

Alexa went to the bathroom, hoping to rinse the taste of fear and sulfur from her mouth. She flipped on the lightswitch, wincing as light flooded the small, very pink bathroom. Pink wallpaper with tiny cream dots. Pink and cream tile floor with fluffy pink toilet cover and throw rugs. A slightly darker pink shower curtain. It was annoying on the best of days. She looked up at the mirror, and froze.

Her blue-violet eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles around them. Her short, black hair was sticking everywhere on the top and left, but looked matted down on the right. Her slightly pointed ears, complete with four gold hoops in each, were attempting to hide in her hair. Her skin, normally pale, looked like the waxen skin of a corpse. Several smears of dried blood stood out over the right side of her face. It looked as if it had come from her temple. Slowly, she reached up, and touched her matted hair. It was slightly sticky, and her fingers came away with red-brown flakes on them.

Alexa barely made it over to the toilet in time to throw up in it instead of on the floor. She spent several minutes throwing up, even though her stomach was empty. Carefully, she tried to pull herself together. The first thing to do would be to get this .... mess out of her hair. She went over to the sink, and very carefully not thinking about what she was washing away, scrubbed her face and hair. For a bit, the water that went down the drain was almost red. She scrubbed a while even after the water ran clear. Very cautiously, she touched her temple, and the nearby scalp. Her skin was unbroken. There were no signs of swelling. Sighing in confusion, she pulled out one of the pink towels and dried of her hair.

She tossed the towel into the hamper and went into the kitchen. She started the coffee-maker, feeling in need of some dark, rich brew. Alexa wondered how the blood had gotten in her hair if it wasn't her own. She combed out her hair, dwelling on the dreams - no, nightmares. She combed her hair, covering the tips of her slightly pointed ears, but displaying the two hoops in the tops of them. Her ears were different, she tried to hide them. Jay, her boss, teased her that her haircut made her look like a pixie. If Alexa had been taller than her five foot and a quarter inch, he would say she looked like an elf. She didn't know what he'd say about her ears if he ever saw them.

She went into the living room, and curled up on her blue bean bag. She had the pot of coffee on the small table, and a mug in hand. She turned on the television, quietly, and tried to let the morning programming distract her. Hopefully, the morning news, exercise, and talk shows would distract her from her nightmare. She did record it in her dream-journal, and dated it, as well as putting down the time that she had awoken.

After six cups of coffee, two infomercial programs, and three half hour exercise shows, she was feeling better by the time Kara emerged from her room. She heard the sound of showering, and then the hairdryer. Kara emerged into the living room, blinking in surprise at seeing Alexa. Kara was a secretary at one of the bigger newspapers, the Globe. Alexa worked in the Muses' Library, a bookstore that specialized in science fiction and fantasy, and carried a large selection of New Age and metaphysical works as well. Some people said that the only difference between the two was how seriously the author took their work.

They were a study in contrast. Alexa was tiny, barely over five foot, short black hair, pale complexion, and dark purple-blue eyes. Normally, Alexa wore leggings or jeans, and T-shirts or sweat-shirts in bright, strong colors. She was also built delicately. To all appearances, a good wind would blow her away. Kara was five - eight, with long, light brown hair and statuesque curves. She had hazel eyes, and dressed in pastel and neutral colors, normally wearing skirts. Kara had a light bronze complexion, kept that way by regular appointments at the tanning salon.

Alexa poured a second cup full of coffee, and handed it to Kara. "There's sugar on the other table. Have some coffee. I woke up early."

Kara took the coffee, and added three packets of sugar to it. She sat in a recliner, and curled her feet under her. Today, she was wearing a light grey skirt and matching jacket over a pink blouse. She changed the channel, to Channel 9 morning news, with Lance Davidson, whom Kara thought very handsome. The news was fairly normal, until it came to an update on the so-called "Midnight Slasher Murder Case."

".......and today, the police have found another victim of the Midnight Slasher. Early this morning, on Jervis Street, the body of a woman was found. The woman has not yet been identified." The image of Lance Davidson, all-American clean cut blond news anchor, was replaced by a sketch of a woman. She had long, loose, blond curls. The sketch then shrank, and moved to the bottom right corner. It now shared the screen with three other pictures. There was a sketch of an elderly black woman. A picture of a Hispanic boy, wearing a denim jacket and a blue bandanna was next. The third was a picture of an overly made up red-head. Dates were beneath each picture. Fran Thompson, killed November seventh. Juan Rodrigez, killed November twelfth. Lauren Andrews, killed November fourteenth. And now, this blond woman, killed today, November eighteenth.

Alexa stared at the screen, shock and horror numbing her. Those were the people she had been in her dreams. The dates that she had suffered those horribly realistic nightmares. Somehow, she was dreaming these people's deaths. There had to be something that she could do about it. Her mother had said that "gifts" ran in her family, and that each gift carried the need to use it responsibly. Her mother had been very good at working with people, and had become a social worker. Her gifts hadn't saved her from a drunk driver, and Alexa had been left all alone. If this was some sort of gift, shouldn't she try to stop this killer? This felt more like a curse than a gift to her.

Alexa barely noticed when Kara left to go to work. She kept her hands firmly clasped on her coffee mug to keep them from shaking as much. The walk to the bus stop, and the bus ride to work were a blur to her. She walked into the Muses' Library, and meandered to the back room, where she sat on a book shipment.

"Pixie! You're here terribly early today. What's the matter? You look disturbed." It was Jay, the manager of the Muses' Library. "Is someone bothering you? Can I help you at all, pixie?" He was also one of her few friends, and sounded genuinely concerned.

"Jay, have you been watching the news lately? Have you heard about this....Midnight Slasher? I mean, about who and when the victims were?" She had to talk to someone about this. Jay might even believe her. On several times, he'd mentioned his Grandma Marie, a woman who studied the Voudoun beliefs. This wasn't something she could keep to herself any longer.

Jay sat down on another book crate. This particular shipment wasn't supposed to go out onto the shelves until Friday, so it was okay for the moment. He looked at her, his dark brown curls falling over brown eyes set in a slightly exotic cocoa complected face. For several moments, it looked like he was trying to determine if she was serious.

"Why do you ask? Unlike you, pixie, I watch the news regularly. The Slasher's killed a homeless black woman, a gang kid that was out of his territory, a hooker, and some unidentified woman. How are you involved in this? Talk to me, pixie." Jay sounded puzzled, and concerned.

Alexa told him. She started with the first dream, and went to the other dreams. She told him about the blood on her face and in her hair this morning. Then, about the news, where she had first learned the official version, and seen the pictures of the victims. That they were the people she had dreamed, on the nights that she had dreamed.

"Pixie, this is serious. I think you have to tell someone that can do something about it." Jay paused, and saw her expression. " No, not the police, they'd just think that you did it. Maybe I should call Grandma Marie, this sounds right in her sphere of expertise. I agree that something needs to be done, I just don't know what . I'll call her today, and ask her to come up. Much as I hate to change the subject, but the store's kind of rushed right now, do you think you could start early today? Please, pixie?"

Alexa smiled, grateful that he had believed her, and that he thought someone might be able to help her about it. The idea of someone to help her stop this nightmare sounded very appealing to her right now. Besides, work would force her to think of other things. "I suppose I could start early." Feeling much more relaxed, she fished her name tag out of her coat pocket. She smiled, "Jay, why did you even bother to get me a name-tag with my real name if you never use it?"

* * *

That night, feeling exhausted from her shift plus a few hours of work, Alexa began to think about some of the things Jay had said about his Grandma. After a little bit, she drifted from thinking of Jay's Grandma, to her own. She had met her Grandmother only once, and it had been an extremely puzzling thing for her. She let her mind drift back.....

She had been looking for a job. When the phone rang, she had hoped that it had been a job offer, although she had the oddest feeling that it wasn't. When she answered the phone, a strange male voice asked if she was Alexandra Rose Knight, the daughter of Jessica Lee Knight. Completely mystified as to who could possibly be calling that would know her name and her mother's name, she had cautiously replied that she was.

The male voice had identified himself as a cousin of hers, Nathan Knight. He explained that her mother had been his father's youngest sister, and that Grandmother Knight wanted to talk with Jessica's daughter. Alexa hadn't even known that she had any cousins, but she was interested in meeting any relatives she might have. She had agreed to go and see this Grandmother Knight.

She been given transport, at no personal cost, to see Theresa Knight, of the English branch, widow of the late Charles Alexander Knight, of the Boston Knights. Alexa had felt somewhat out of place in the large house, inhabited by people that casually spoke with the people that had influence in the city. She could see a definite resemblance, although she was shorter than every other adult. Nathan, almost towering over her at slightly under six foot tall, escorted her up the stairs and into a large, green bedroom. A very fragile old woman, with white hair and intense blue eyes was in the center of the large bed, looking wraith-thin under several blankets. Alexa had no doubt that the woman, Theresa Knight, her grandmother, was dying.

Theresa Knight had looked at her, with the oddest measuring expression. "You look very much like the family. One can tell that the blood of the Knights flows strongly within you. You are the one to whom this shall pass, and do not take this matter lightly."

She paused, catching her breath, and removed her locket, which had been hidden under her nightgown. The oval -shaped golden locket was the size of a quarter, and the front was a filigree lacework, showing the pinkie-nail sized green crystal that was held inside. She reached over, and placed it around Alexa's neck.

"This locket has been passed from generation to generation of Knight women for centuries. Now, it is in your hands. Guard it well, for it hold great....strength. I.... am weaker than.. I had thought. Go now, I need to rest. I shall tell you more of the locket in the morning. Nathan, show her to a guest room." Theresa closed her eyes, and reclined back onto her bed.

Nathan had shown her to a blue bedroom, and said she could stay there. Then, they had gone to the library and he had told her about the family. She had been fascinated by the stories he could tell about her newly discovered relatives. They had retired late, having promised to keep in touch. That night, she had dreamed of an angel with wings of shadow visiting Teresa Knight. In the morning, her Grandmother was dead. It had happened painlessly, in the night.

Alexa had ended up staying for the funeral. She had met more of her relatives, and found that many looked poorly on her because of her mother. Apparently, her mother had parted with the family after a fight with her father, and hadn't gone back. Many of them seemed to think that she was there in hopes of profiting from her grandmother's death. She had been unable to leave until after the reading of the will, because there was nobody that she could have help her arrange to leave before then.

According to the will, she had been left several stocks in various things, the locket, and a few books. She had been very surprised - not only had they known about her, she had been in a will? She had wanted to keep in touch with Nathan and another cousin named Rachel. The books, leather bound and handwritten, felt old. Two of them had been in Latin. The subject matter had been... odd. One of the most normal, had appeared to be a listing of assorted mythical creatures and information about their anatomy and behavior. There had been something that had looked like a squid-man, with shark teeth. Another book had seemed to be an unusual family history.

* * * *

In the morning, Alexa forced herself out of bed. Her night had been plagued by dreams of dark tentacles, and the reeking stench of sulfur. Glowing eyes, the reddish hue of fire coals with bright gold slit pupils had stared at her, chilling her with their promises of torment. Remembering what she had been pondering the night before, Alexa decided to get her Grandmother's locket out of the jewelry box where she had left it. It wasn't there. Disturbed, Alexa searched for it, moving her dresser so that she could look behind. The locket was behind the dresser, under a white handkerchief. The catch had come open, and a clear stone lay beside it. The stone was supposed to be green. She got an odd chill along her spine at the sight of the open locket, and the clear stone.

Oddly enough, when she tried to close it with the clear stone inside, it wouldn't latch. She put the locket on, and tried again to close it. It stayed shut, but she felt as if it wasn't really latched. She left it on, pulling a long, purple sweater over it, and finishing her outfit with light grey leggings, soft grey ankle boots, and a gold belt. She glanced at the mirror, brushed her hair over the points of her ears to make herself look a bit less elflike and left the apartment.

She had a few hours before she had to go to work, she had something that she wanted to do. She wanted to find out more about the victims of the so called Midnight Slasher. Alexa had the feeling that there was more to this killer than people were thinking. She paid a visit to one of her mother's former coworkers, a nice, cheerful woman that had tried to help Alexa with everything after her mother's death. Alexa was hoping that she might know something about the victims.

Tam, a rather sweet woman with overly powerful maternal instincts, was delighted to have Alexa over to visit. She gave Alexa tea and cookies, and asked her how things were going. Impulsively, Alexa explained about her nightmares, and asked for Tam's help in learning about the victims.

Tam agreed to help if she could. Fran Thompson was a homeless black woman. She didn't seem to have many friends, but she had no enemies, and had been described as a fairly nice old lady. Juan Rodriguez was a gang member, and had specialized in `protection'. He had a record for petty theft, assault, concealed and illegal eapons, and use of marijuana. Lauren Andrews had been a prostitute, and Tam really didn't know much about her, but clearly had no respect for her occupation.

Alexa sketched a picture of the last victim, the unidentified blond woman. She also mentioned that she had received the impression that the woman had a butterfly tattoo on her left ankle. Tam looked very upset at this. When Alexa asked why, she explained that this picture, and a butterfly tattoo described Cheryl Martin, one of her coworkers.

Tam explained that Cheryl worked with abused children, and was one of the people at work that everybody liked. She was the sort of person that just seemed nice. Cheryl didn't have enemies at work, she didn't have relationship problems with her boyfriend, in fact, she had been planning to get married in the spring. The eighteenth was supposed to have been Cheryl's day off, but if one of the kids that she worked with had called, Cheryl was just the sort of person that would have gone to see them, to try to help.

Alexa had been disturbed to hear this, and very sorry to have upset Tam. These people seemed to have nothing in common save the fatal mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She tried to apologize, but Tam just waved at her to stop.

"I know that you didn't want to get me upset, Alexa hon. By now, I know that something like that just isn't in your nature. Your mama used to have feelings about things, and they usually turned out how she said that they would. I have faith that if you say the last victim was a blond with a butterfly tattoo, then I believe you. There's just one thing that I want you to do: Find the creep that did this so he can be made to pay. But be careful not to get yourself hurt, hon."

Alexa stayed a bit longer, talking to Tam, trying to help her feel a little better. Eventually, she had to go to work. Her day was horrendous. Tolkien fans looked down their noses at her, as if implying that she had the poor taste to try looking elven and fail. Small children, following parents on their shopping, kept asking if she was here watching people for Santa. They thought she was an elf and, of course, Christmas was only a bit over a month away. Haughty people brought back books, insisting that they didn't want them, and she should give them their money back. Hordes of New Age people invaded the shop, looking for books by some person with an unpronounceable name.

A large, eccentric woman in garish clothing and too much perfume descended on her, insisting that her psychic had told her that the clerk in purple would be able to help her today. The woman babbled on about her psychic, who was supposedly teaching her the secrets skills to become a psychic herself, about her spirit guides, her nieces and nephews, and how horrible her life was. The woman claimed her attention for almost an hour, as Alexa tried to help her find the books that she wanted. She also pointed out a few others by the authors that the woman mentioned. After purchasing two hundred and sixty dollars of New Age and Meta-physical books, the woman finally left, taking her cloud of perfume with her.

After far too long, Alexa helped shoo the last of the customers out of the store. Jay, a guy named Ryan, and Alexa closed the store, and cleaned up for the night. Alexa quietly wishing that she had worn any color but purple today, and feeling her usual dread of the Christmas season. Alexa liked Christmas, except for the hordes of children mistaking her for one of Santa's elves, and the over-commercializing of what was supposed to be a time of peace and goodwill.

Ryan had just left when there was a fairly loud knock on the door. Jay went to see who it was, and to politely tell them that the store was closed. Alexa finished sweeping the back section of the tiled floor that featured Grecian figures, and went to see what was taking Jay so long. She stopped in surprise, looking at the old woman that he had let into the store. Her white hair was in a slim braid down to her shoulder blades. She wore a large brown coat, and loose brown pants underneath. Numerous necklaces of colored beads, small stone fetish animals, metal symbols and things Alexa couldn't quite recognize hung around the woman's neck. This had to be his Grandma Marie. There was an indefinable something about the woman... She turned and looked at Alexa.

"So, you are the young woman that Jay has been telling me about. I can sense the power in you quite strongly. He said you think that there is something... unusual about some recent murders here? Come over here and we shall talk about them. Relax, I don't bite, and you shall be quite safe from me." Her voice, somewhat age roughened, was low, and pleasant. Alexa walked over to talk to Marie.

* * * *

Eventually, they ended up at Jay's rather large house. The talk about the killings, and her dreams continued until the small hours of the morning, before they eventually had to retire to sleep. Fortunately, Marie had believed Alexa, and been able to provide answers to some of her questions. It seemed that her locket was some sort of powerful talisman, although Marie wasn't certain what it was supposed to do. Alexa had strong abilities, and had the potential to stop the Beast, and that was why she was having the dreams. He wanted to frighten her badly enough that she would be unable to act against him. Marie promised to try to learn what this beast was, and how he could be stopped.

Alexa felt herself floating over a street. Momentum apparently was being provided by a slow, icy feeling breeze, sluggishly pushing her along. She didn't recognize the area, but it looked old, and unsafe. She could get no sensation of a body, only a perspective view. It was dark, and she could not see the moon. There was a strong feeling/smell/taste of sulfur in the air. The cold breeze, which felt clammy and tainted, began pushing her around corners, speeding up from it's sluggish creeping to a swifter pace. She could smell/sense blood in the air. Alexa had a bad feeling about where it was taking her.

The tainted air current pushed her around a corned and released her. There was an open area, an abandoned unloading area behind an old warehouse. Blood had been liberally splashed around, staining the old, grey pavement an eerie, disturbing red. Fragments of shattered bone dully contrasted with the shreds of flesh that had been scattered over the area. A single purple eye was recognizable on a lump of what could have been part of a ribcage. The locket lay in a pool of blood, the chain snapped. With a start, she realized that this was supposed to be her remains in this area.

"You sssee now what sssshall happen if you challenge me, Raven's daughter. No mortal, of birth common, noble, royal, or knight may triumph over me. I am the evil that stalkssss in the night, and I have chosen thissss city as my hunting domain. You can not defeat me, you can only perissh." With these words, her attention was drawn to some of the deeper shadows.

She could clearly see a pair of large eyes, a molten red with bright golden slits in the center glowing within the shadows. The darkness writhed, and the Beast emerged. It's head was about eight feet from the pavement. Wisps of dark hair decorated it's scalp, but the head was dominated by the eyes, easily twice the size of a humans, and the mouth, extending to the corners of the jawbones, and filled with triangular razor teeth that wouldn't look out of place on a shark. Spiny ears stood on the sides of it's head. The torso was similar to a man's, although the hands ended in sharp, bony spikes. Long tentacles, moving and twining were in place of legs. Alexa was unsure how many tentacle there were, at least six, maybe more. The creature gave an impression of scales, and it was an unpleasant greenish black, with sulfur flecking over it. The creature's nearly tangible aura of evil and death almost overpowered the reeking mingled scent of blood and sulfur. Alexa awoke with a shriek.

It took less than a minute for Marie, in a grey robe, and Jay, in a pair of tiger striped boxer shorts to charge into the guest room that she had been sleeping in. They pushed into the room, radiating concern and worry. Jay seemed to be somewhat reassured when he saw no signs of an intruder, but he still looked worried. Neither of them looked like they were upset that she had woken them up.

"What happened, pixie? Y' woke us both up, an' I don't think that's your idea of kicks. Besides, you look scared." Jay broke the silence with gentle concern, and a slight touch of humor.

Alexa told them about her nightmare. Marie looked very thoughtful, and commented that it was more likely scare tactics than anything else. Alexa told her that they were working, she was afraid. Jay had pulled out a sketch-pad, and was busily drawing... something. From behind the sketch-pad, Jay asked why this monster was working so hard to scare Alexa if there wasn't anything that she could do. Marie thoughtfully commented that it probably only wanted her to think she was powerless against it. If there was really nothing that she could do to stop him, why bother sending these dreams to her?

Marie then commented that there were books, normally handmade and rather secret, about such creatures. People would make books that were a collection of creatures, spells or workings that they had encountered, in case they or their descendants encountered such things again. Usually, she said, such books were carefully guarded, and passed from generation to generation with care, sometimes along with items of power or significance. About then, Jay turned the paper around, and Alexa looked at what he had drawn, and stared in horrified shock. It was that thing, the Beast, and it had a name.

"Dynathyrax." The name emerged from her throat in a hoarse whisper. At first, she did not realize that she had spoken. She repeated the name, trying to push back the fear of it. "It has a name, and it's name is Dynathyrax." Alexa paused, feeling very confused. "Where did that name come from? Why is all this happening? And why is this happening to me?" Unfortunately, nobody had any answers for her.

In the morning, Marie pulled out her hereditary books of lore, and started looking either for the name Dynathyrax or something that looked like Jay's drawing. Alexa had the oddest feeling that she was overlooking something. It wasn't until an hour later, and her second cup of coffee that it occurred to her. Marie had said that these books would contain creatures, or situations. That sounded similar to some of what had been in the books that her Grandmother had left her.

"Jay, I think I need you to drive me to my apartment. I think I may have something useful there. When my Grandmother Knight died, she left me this locket, and some very odd, handwritten books. What you Grandmother said about lore-books, with creatures and things encountered made me think about them."

Jay drove her to her apartment, and followed her inside. He looked around, trying to get a feeling for the place. He sat on the slightly faded black couch with a red, gold, and blue quilt. He looked at the tan recliner, and the home decorator magazines beside it with curiosity. Alexa ducked into her room. "My room-mate likes pastels an' neutral colors. Sorry. Recliner's hers, couch is mine. Bathrooms on the left, be warned, it's pink. There should be some food in the kitchen if you want. Kara may be pastel, but she cooks well."

A short time later, Alexa emerged from her room, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue sweatshirt. Her hair was slightly disarrayed, and the pointed tips of her ears were showing. She was carrying a slightly faded red milk crate with some leather bound books inside. There was also a newer book, a journal, tucked into the box. Jay came out of the kitchen, having eaten some of the leftovers from the refrigerator. Frowning slightly, he stared at her. Alexa sat the box on the couch, and waved her hand in front of Jay's face. Startled, he blinked, grinned slightly, and they left.

He waited until they were in the car to ask why her ears were pointed. Surprised, Alexa reached up, and realized that her hair had been accidentally pushed behind one of her ears. Her pointed ears. The trip back to Jay's place was consumed by her explanation that she had been born with them, slightly pointed ears ran in her mother's family. The relatives that her locket had come from. Hers just seemed more pointed than the cousins and uncles that she had met. Oddly, she didn't really know why that was.

They returned to Jay's house with the crate of books. Once there, they began their various researches. Jay began gathering information on the reported aspects and locations of the killings. Marie began looking through her books for anything matching or even resembling the drawing of Dynathyrax, or of the locket. Alexa began doing the same, starting with the book of creatures. The house was quiet, with the sounds of turning pages, the pouring and drinking of coffee.

"I believe I have found something. Look over here, young ones." Marie had open a book, bound in dark red leather, the pages yellowed with age. The top third of the page was filled with two sketches, one of a fairly normal looking man, and one of the monster. The writing was spelled slightly differently, and in a spidery, almost italicized looking script.

Daniel Waterbourne

Mid-Summer of 1483

I wryte these words so that all that follow may know this, the one ye knew as Daniel Waterbourne be no goode church-going Christian mann. Instead, he doth practice foul workes of Magick and of Evil. He and his Coven of Foul Workers hath caused much dark myschiff in our goode towne of York. They doth perform Foul Rites under the Dark of the Moon, and it is believed that they Sacrifyce to Darke Powers. He and the others of his Coven have begun some Foul Path of Sacrifyce and Power that they hope will grant them Terryble Strength and New powers.

Late Summer, also 1483

A Plague of Foul Monsters hath descended to our region. All of the Creatures carry the foul stench of Brimstone, a sure sign of their Unholy Source. These Beastes are unlike any Mortal Creature, being Scaled and of Unholy Forms and Deeds. They hath slayn the flock of Sheep owned by Farmer Dunbar, the swine sent to feed in the Forest, the oxen of Farmer Jonsonne, an aged Beggar that had wandered out of the towne. None hath seen Waterbourne or his Cohorts, and there are those that Hope they were the fyrst slayn by these Foul Creatures.

I did go to speak wyth other women of Power, and all are in agreement. The Plague of Foul Monsters is the Result of Waterbourne's Coven and their Darke Rites. We have not a plan to fight these Foul Beastes, and so we must ask another, the Lady Teresa Rose Knight - Windham, a wydow of Noble Bloode. It is Known to us that she hath Strong Power in the Artes, and we Hope that she may be of Aid against the Darke Powers that Waterbourne and his Cohorts hath Conjured.

One week later

I have Spoken wyth the Lady Teresa. She is Highly Skilled in the Artes, and hath suggested several Thoughts upon the matter. She hath suggested that mayhaps Waterbourne and his Cohorts did not Summon these Beastes, But were instead Transformed by Darke Powers into Beastes. `Twould explain why None hath seen any of them synce the Beastes . Also, she hath suggested that if we can not Fight the Beastes, mayhaps we can Binde them. She hath said she would begin Work upon something to Hold them. Mary hath identified one of the Beastes as all that Remains of Daniel Waterbourne, and I placed a sketch of her description above, next to the sketch of Waterbourne.

That was the end of the entry concerning this Daniel Waterbourne. It had added a whole new dimension of evil to the monster. The realization that this monster had, at least once been a magic user frightened her. There was also a bit of surprise that one of her relatives had been involved in getting rid of it. If they had done it once, it should be possible to do again. At least, that was the theory.

Alexa had the beginnings of an idea about what might have been crafted by this long ago Theresa Knight-Windham. She wasn't certain, but this was prompting a few suspicions about her locket. After all, her Grandmother Theresa had said that it had been passed down generations of Knight women, for centuries. From 1483 until now would be centuries. She had also said that it held great strength, and had intended to tell Alexa more. Could her locket have been intended to bind and contain Dynathyrax?

Alexa wasn't certain what to do about all of this. She would have to think, and she generally thought best when doing something. Feeling the need for some fresh air, she decided to take a walk. Besides, it was broad daylight, the weather was lovely, what could happen? She told Jay that she was going for a walk, not to worry, she didn't plan on being to long.

About an hour later, Alexa realized that something was Wrong. She had found herself in a section of town that she didn't recognize. It looked to have once been nice, but the buildings looked unkempt, with faded, peeling paint, sickly moss grown over the roofs, overgrown, weed infested yards. Some of the yards featured skeletal, dying trees, with long, twisted limbs that reached out like claws to scratch at the houses, to reach for the road, and for passing unfortunates. The streets were dark and shimmered faintly with spilled oil and other vital fluids necessary for cars. Battered, motionless hulks of dead cars lined the streets. There were no people, or animals. She was certain that the shadows in the area were moving, but not certain that the objects were. For that matter, she wasn't certain that the objects weren't moving of their own accord. Unpleasant odors filled the sullen, grey air: scorched moss, rotting tree leaves, stagnant puddles of muddy water, odd, acrid smoke that burned her lungs, the smell of something - hopefully an animal, rotting. Beyond that, every instinct that she had was clamoring for her to get out of there. Run. Escape.

Alexa tried, but she seemed trapped in this region. The sky was too grey to find the sun. No building looked like anything she had seen before today. She tried to retrace her steps and leave, but the streets twisted, and changed on her. Once, she neared something normal, only to have the air shimmer like high summer heat over asphalt, her head swam, and when things cleared, she was back in the middle of this weird section. She had been trapped. The entire area seemed unseasonably warm, more like the sticky heat of late August than the false warmth of mid November.

Alexa knew that she had to escape this nightmare region before.... Something else could happen. She wasn't certain what, but she had the strongest feeling that time was counting down to some horrible event. It wouldn't be anything that she would enjoy. The sluggish warm breeze, laden with the fetid odor of decay, carried veiled warnings of danger to her.

Her efforts were all futile. She looked up from yet another attempt to follow a street out of here, and saw the last sliver of the long hidden sun slipping below the horizon, and she knew that it was too late. Time had run out, and the horrible main event would now commence. Somehow, the night intensified the foul odors of the area, and the whine of mosquitoes only seemed to add an oddly ominous note to the darkness. She thought that the slow breeze now carried a hint of something else, another unpleasant smell. It took her a moment to identify it. Sulfur.

Alexa panicked. She turned, and began to run, trying to escape the smell of the sulfur. Now, she knew what horrible event would happen. Dynathyrax was here. The sulfur was the smell of the terrible beast that he had become. She knew what would happen if he found her. He had taunted her with the deaths of his victims, sending their last moments to her. He had sent a dream threat against her, showing a tattered mess of shredded meat and implying that such would be her fate when he found her. She did not wish to be torn to pieces. Perhaps she could escape. Maybe whatever had been keeping her trapped in this area had been broken by nightfall. Alexa ran, forcing her way through warm, still, humid, air, reeking of moldering leaves, rotting flesh, leaking car fluids, and the horrible itching scent of sulfur.

Alexa ran, desperately seeking an escape from this place. The smell of decay, decay of flesh, of plants, and of the homes and belongings of the city, filled the overly warm air. The streets were devoid of life, and dark with oil. No people walked the sidewalks. Nobody moved inside the windows of the buildings along the streets. She saw no cats, no dogs, no birds or squirrels. Only the ever-present whine of mosquitoes, and the sulfurous smell of Dynathyrax gave any hint that she was not the only creature to exist within this area.

She ran through the lifeless streets. The air began to change. All of the warmth fled, changing the air from warm to cold and clammy. The scent of myriad decay remained, despite the masking sulfur, which had only intensified. Half of the streetlights were burned out, some of the rest were on their way there. This gave the streets a dark, ominous cast, filled with flickering shadows. Occasionally, Alexa could hear the faint hissss of scales over the oily streets. Everything seemed as if it were calculated to frighten. The dark shadows, the flickering lights, the smell of decay, the lifeless streets, the overgrown yards....

Gradually, as she ran through the empty dark streets, she reclaimed herself from fear's dominion. Alexa was still afraid, but now she was also thinking. She had to find a way to escape from here. Perhaps people to be with. All of the other victims had been alone. If she could contact Jay.... If he couldn't catch her, he couldn't hurt her. She had to think. Maybe there would be something that she could use, or a way out of this lifeless place. She darted down a side alley that she remembered coming out on one of the bigger streets of the area. She came face to face with a large, rather solid looking wall. Trash littered the ground before it, cardboard, empty cans and bottles, pieces of paper. Disbelieving, she touched the wall. It was solid. Unless she could climb over it, she was trapped.

Scales hissed against the alley stones. Sulfur filled the air. A deep, slightly hissing voice spoke. "Raven's Daughter. You were a fool to come here. Tonight, I sshall feasst upon your flessh. It doess sseem that the Raven'ss line hass weakened. If you are the best that they could find to throw againsst the might that isss Dynathyrax, nothing sshall trouble me. You are sssmall and puny. I sshall desstroy you."

One tentacle, covered in small, triangular green-black scales with sulfur yellow flecks over it, reached out towards her. She recoiled from it, and found herself pressed against the wall. Her locket began to glow. The golden filigree produced a softly shining amber light, and the crystal glowed whitely. The tentacle stopped its approach, and merely lingered in the air near her, only a foot away. A few flakes of yellow fell from the scales.

"Yesss, cower from me, little raven. I am power. I am Dynathyrax, the hunter in the darknessss. I sshall desstroy you. I sshall rend the flessh from you boness, and sshatter them into a hundred piecesss. I will pull forth your entrailsss. I will drink forth the power of your death, and take that sssmall power that you possessss asss my own. I will be the mightiessst of my Coven." Dynathyrax continued ranting in such lines. He lingered over the power that he hoped to gain. He reveled in describing the destruction he would inflict to her body. He claimed great power. Not once did he touch her.

He didn't touch her. None of his writhing tentacles came closer than twelve inches to her. They flinched away from the light of her locket. Tiny beads of some sulfur yellow fluid seeped from between the scales, more on the writhing tentacles, but also over his entire body. As this happened, the smell of sulfur increased.

Alexa very carefully reached up and unfastened her necklace. Soon, she held the locket in her hand, dangling slightly from the chain. Testing, she moved her hand a little closer to the monster. The tentacles recoiled. The crystal inside the locket was glowing brighter now, and almost hurt to look at. Alexa had the shadow of a plan. If her plan failed, she knew Dynathyrax would destroy her, rending her flesh and all the rest.

She leapt towards him, her hand with the locket outstretched. Her hand connected with his chest, and his scales proved to have excruciatingly sharp edges. They slashed into her fingers, her palm. The sulfur burned as it met her now slashed hand. The momentum carried the locket into his chest, and it touched his scaly flesh.

Brilliant light exploded forth from the locket. Alexa couldn't see Dynathyrax, could see nothing but the light. She heard a deep voice shriek in pain and denial. She felt one of his talon tipped hands swat into the side of her head, and she could feel herself falling. The sound of his screams continued, until they to were swallowed into the light. Suddenly, she realized that her hand felt as if it were burning, something was trickling down her face. She couldn't see.... Alexa fell into unconscious oblivion.

Jay found her there. She was lying in the middle of an alley. A small pile of little triangular greenish black scales and sulfur flakes lay under her outstretched hand. Three slashes skimmed the side of her head, and the blood from them had started to dry on her face and in her hair. Her hand, in which the chain of her locket was tangled, had been slashed with a number of small but deep looking cuts. The stone in her locket had a faint green tinge to it. He picked up some of the scales to show to his Grandma, and carefully gathered up Alexa. She would need medical attention for both her head, and her hand.

end.