Elmer leapt out of the way, swiftly sliding behind the ceramic plinth of one of the countless weeping angels that surrounded the cemetery, and evading the attempted slash of the smoky claws of the wolf who had taken the lead of its pack.
Following that action up, he quickly scrambled back to the opposite side of the cemetery he had dashed from, using the serpentine path of gravel that separated him from the wolves as his saving grace.
Elmer lacked the company of the material thing he longed for the most, a pocket watch, but he could swear that it had been nearly two minutes—if not more—which had passed already. Though, with all that time, he had still been unable to bypass the wolves and get closer to the weeping curse to place the purgatory talisman on the grave it was floating on.
The wolves were quick and nimble, somewhat quicker than he was despite his speed being heightened, and with every of his trials to purge the weeping curse they were guarding it was seeming more and more impossible to get past them.
There was also his inexperience with the revolver. He could not risk a shot that he was not guaranteed would hit. Twelve bullets was all he had, six currently untouched in the revolver and the rest cradled in his bag.
To shoot even a bullet he had to be at least double of an arm’s length from the wolves for a sure hit. But that proved to be impossible with the sort of teamwork their pack had—and speed; speed he had an inkling that would topple that of his bullets.
He could barely get three steps close to them before two or three would come slashing, and he was not keen on knowing what would happen if their smoky claws grazed him.
If he could get away without a single damage making its way onto his body that would be great. In fact, that was what he was aiming for.
A damage-less victory
Although, his exploits had not been for nothing.
Through his constant failures to swerve past the supernatural beasts made out of eerie fogs, and shorten the range between him and the weeping pale and faceless lady, he had learnt that the wolves could not move much a distance away from the curse.
It was as though they were trapped on the other side of the gravel path, stuck inside an invisible barrier, and that granted Elmer the brush of grass—which he was currently kneeling on—his safe haven. Here he could come up with a plan without having to worry about being attacked.
Perks of being guardians, huh…? You’re all bound to a floating crybaby… He took a moment to lampoon.
Elmer rose to his feet with hard breaths making their way out of his lungs. He would have normally had a lot of washing to do once he was done, for both his body and clothes, and he would have also loved to give his mind some rest, but that was not possible.
When the sun came up tomorrow he would have to move to the bureau once again, but this time to actually begin his search for The Warlock’s Torch, so at the moment he did not have any second to spare for himself.
Same as now, he lacked that time at this period as well. He had to use what he had sparingly as he did not know how long it would take before this crying curse would prove harmful to Lev.
The pawnbroker had said the cries grew louder in tone each night, and from his father’s and mother’s statements the cries had been the loudest they’d ever heard them be just before they’d died.
That assertion was what had brought about Elmer’s current speculation that the curse moved slowly, inch by inch, until it got the closest it could to the person it was haunting and killed them.
Although, to his eyes for the past few minutes, it had remained stagnant, rooted—or rather, floated—to that spot, shadowed closely by its guardians.
He was almost starting to render his speculation false until a second later it suddenly proved true.
As soon as those thoughts had entered Elmer’s head, so had he glimpsed the curse unexpectedly hover an inch closer along with its guardians.
His breath hitched and he shuddered at the sight of the confirmation of his guesswork. Such nerve wracking actions made the curse even more frightening to Elmer, and its movement had been almost so indistinct that on any other occasion he might have missed it—he surely would have.
Therefore, as a result, he was glad that he had not once let his focus waver ever since coming in contact with this unearthly being. To let such subtle details skip him would undoubtedly cost Lev’s life.
It was still no different now, though. He had to act quickly, seeing as he had been unable to do anything noteworthy yet.
Elmer knitted his brows and frantically threw his gaze upon the snarling wolves made out of smoke as he went ahead to study them, hoping something tangible would come out of the plan he was about to cook up.
Aside from their inability to move much farther away from the weeping curse they guarded, Elmer had noticed some other pattern to their actions.
They never attacked all at once.
Whenever he lunged at them, it was either one or two or three that would come to intercept him. It was never four or five or the whole pack. He had suspected that it was due to them not wanting to all rush forward and leave the curse they were guarding exposed, but now he was thinking otherwise.
They most likely couldn’t even move far away if they wished.
In this scenario the weeping curse was a magnet and they were metals, so whether they all rushed forward or not they could never leave the curse exposed long enough for anyone on his level to deal it a great harm.
And also, they were faster than him. He was sure the wolves knew that. After all, the ones on earth were termed smart hunting beasts, and the ones spawned from the supernatural would obviously not be any less—they were most likely even greater.
So why exactly were they dividing the pack in half, with one guarding and the other attacking? What was their reason?
Elmer took into consideration that solving this puzzle could be what would lead him to finally getting onto the weeping curse and purging it from this world. But to do that he’d also have to change his method of approach as well.
He had been going at the wolves with the mindset of simply just evading their attacks and heading straight ahead to the curse, and that had to stop.
As he had told himself earlier during the day when he had been thinking about how repulsive carrying out a ritual was, that to bring his sister’s soul back he had to think and act like the priests who had done the deed, now he had to put those thoughts into action for the first time with these wolves.
Defeating them meant thinking and acting the same way hunting beasts did.
He had to stop trying to run. He had to stop being the one hunted. He had to become the hunter.
And for that, he needed to take risks.
Elmer quaffed in a deep breath and heaved out its aftermath, using the cold wind he had sucked in to calm his raging heartbeats. Then with a last glance at the symbols caressing his revolver’s body, he darted forward.
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Three wolves replied, rushing onwards with loud growls before diving at him, smoky claws readied. But Elmer did not falter.
When he was almost a few paces from the wolves arranged in something of an arc in the air, he immediately twisted the ankle of his right foot, turning it to its side and using its instep to direct his body from the wolf he had been at a linear with, toward the remaining two which made up his left.
And with as much quickness as he could allow himself to have, he pulled the trigger three times, causing the symbols on the revolver to glow a golden beauty as a bullet for each flying wolf cascaded out of its nozzle.
He was not a hundred percent sure the bullets would hit his targets; in fact, he had not been expecting them to. All he had just done had been to study the actions of his preys—as the hunter he was. To garner more insights on their patterns, on if they really could react to his bullets as he had surmised they would be able to, and retreat to come up with the real hunting scheme he would need to take them down once they had given up their attacks to evade his shots.
But to his utmost surprise, something he had not even for once taken into consideration happened.
The wolves did not dodge his bullets with any of the super speed he had believed them to have, instead, they stalled in the air, seeming as though they had given themselves up to the fate they would be met with once the bullets had hit them.
But the remainder of the wolves, those that had been left to guard the weeping curse, flashed through the air all of a sudden, leaving streaks of thick smoky whirls in their wake, and each of them caught a bullet respectively with their smoky teeths, sparing the lives of their companions who were streaking through the air toward him.
It was barely more than three seconds, but Elmer’s heightened speed came in handy then, helping him to quickly retreat back to his safe haven after he glimpsed the little halt the wolves that had been attacking him had taken in order to let their allies prevent their demise.
Crouched on one knee, Elmer breathed out an exhale as he watched the wolves return back to guard the weeping curse. They exchanged he growls they had offered him a moment ago for snarls after spitting out his bullets, which they had caught, onto the ground before them.
The wolves actions had been unprecedented, but because of that Elmer’s brows had pulled in as he could now finally see a way to win presented to him.
He momentarily placed the talisman in his left hand on the neatly shaven grassy ground and brought out three bullets from his waist bag. After releasing the latch of his revolver and swinging out the chamber, he poured out the empty bullet cartridges and refilled the missing holes with new ones before swinging it back, causing it to stick with a click sound. Then he took the cartridges he had poured out and dumped them into his waist bag
Through it all he had come up with another plan.
He picked up the talisman and rose to his feet.
The wolves actually have the speed to react to the bullets, but it seems that they cannot toggle their attack and defense mode at the same time, so they divide themselves in half, one to do the attacking and the others to defend the attackers…
Elmer tried his best to calm himself as he thought.
Also, that little halt when they were being defended, was that as a result of not wanting to harm their own fellows…? It was likely, and if that’s the case then my plan might just work… All I need is just a split second to run as though my life depends on it… Well, it does, along with Lev’s…
Elmer sighed. He was back to bypassing the wolves and heading straight for the curse again; only this time he had surety that it would work.
There was no way he could see to harm those wolves, more like there was no time to figure out one, so his preferable and only option was to stall them instead, and just go ahead to do what he came here to do: exorcism.
And since I’m not on the outskirts like I’d been with my fight against the Lost, the sound of my shots must have been heard… Though, if any official comes I can just show them my bounty hunting license and I should obviously be let go as I’m somewhat on duty… Wait, shouldn’t that mean that I am allowed to stay out past the curfew as well if I’m on a job…?
And also, what was the use of my sneaking into the cemetery after the guard was gone…? I should have just shown him my license and I would have most likely been let through to carry out my duty… I really need to change my thought process and stop thinking like I’m the same boy from the countryside, I make a lot of unnecessary decisions sometimes…
Elmer was scratching his head with the base of his revolver when he glimpsed the curse slide forward again, and that did well to snap him from those thoughts that were meager when compared to the situation at hand.
He already had his plans set, now it was just to take action. Which he did without delay.
Elmer sprang forward and so did the three wolves who seemed to have taken on the attacking roles.
He was to repeat the same steps as he had done prior, but this time he had planned to increase its effectiveness by leaning onto his other basic ability which had been left untouched.
It was a risky one, he had a nervy feeling of that. Opening his hearing would cause the whispers of the purgatory talisman he held, along with the cries of the weeping curse—both which he had tried his best to deafen his ears to—to make their way in a heightened form into his lug holes.
But he needed his hearing enhanced if his plan was to work, if he was going to be able to predict the exact time his last bullet was going to make its way out of his revolver.
He had no choice but to risk it.
I hope I don’t fall asleep, it seems I always do when my hearing opens up… Elmer mumbled anxiously in his mind as he instantly twirled his ankle and used the instep of his foot to shift his body to his side, pulling the trigger of his revolver once as his plan went underway, and a second time as a follow up.
As he was about to fire for the third time, he immediately relaxed his breathing, trying his best to replicate the sensations his body had usually undergone whenever his hearing was enhanced.
Eddie had said he would be able to use his abilities as though he had been born with it all his life, and that had proven true for his speed. He had not needed to think too much on how to use it, he had just been able to. He hoped his hearing was that way as well.
All of a sudden Elmer’s ragged heartbeats slowed down to something of a crawl, and all of the tension that had built up in his body relaxed gradually, causing him to feel somewhat at peace.
It was almost up to the point that he wanted to just let all his problems be and take a moment to unwind, rest, and sleep. But thankfully, the sudden high-pitched booms of the indistinct whispers of the talisman and the cries of the weeping curse that rushed into his ears enigmatically, kept his eyes open.
He had never once thought that he would be grateful to things that existed to depreciate his sanity, though at this moment that was the position he had found himself.
The whispers and cries were crashing onto the pivot that balanced his mind, ruining it and doing whatever they could to plunge him into madness.
But he kept at it, clenching his chin in pain while leaving his enhanced hearing intact, until he pressed down on the trigger and spun about on his heels as soon as he heard the third bullet move an inch out of the nozzle of his revolver.
It was not until then did he turn his enhanced hearing off, freeing himself from the madness that had been clawing at him.
He had successfully dragged all the wolves out, and for the first time he was able to get behind them. But he knew that was hardly where his victory was.
The curse was a magnet as he had thought it out to be earlier, and the wolves the irons it attracted. Them being seperated was only for a moment, if he delayed even for a second they would catch up to him in no time.
With that in mind, Elmer tried his utmost best to put aside his hastened heartbeats which had suddenly sprung up on him as soon as he put off his heightened hearing, and dashed forward without looking back.
He went straight for the grave behind the weeping curse, since it was not the floating lady he wanted in exact, but the place where the ritual to bring about her had been performed.
Elmer had readied himself as he approached the weeping curse, expecting it to have some sort of attack kept for anyone who might have managed to get past its guardians, but just as helpless as its faceless face looked—which was soaked in streams of tears—so was it as a whole.
It only had its cries, one which Elmer had no doubt deafened his ears to as he sped past it, using the recitation of the prayer he had studied in the carriage for the talisman as the barrier for that.
“I pray for the light of the Heavens that cleanses all evil. The purifier that detests the dirt soiling the world. I pray for your cleansing power. Cleanse all you hate. Cleanse all that spoils the world…”
Elmer retained the last bit of the prayer as he felt his body’s strength being taken away. He was also being cleansed too, as Eddie had told him. So he waited, until he arrived at the four headstones lined horizontally, all bearing the surname of Harold.
He quickly searched for the one with the most past years, and when his eyes found the headstone inscribed with: ‘Jamie Harold, 1450 — 1540’, he immediately placed the talisman on the grave of who he knew was Lev’s grandfather, and sprang to his right with his hind, the growls of the wolves higher in sound as they had come to be somewhat closer to him.
But that did little to bother Elmer in any manner. They would never be able to harm him now, since as soon as he felt his strength no longer being siphoned away by the talisman, he instantly muttered the last bit he had held back…
“Cleanse it all.”