After using skills from my misspent youth to escape some ropes, I somehow managed to open an old stone box, and was looting its contents when Vito Vercotti surprised me by showing that he remembered me from high school after all.

That and he had snuck up on me, but the being remembered part surprised me more. I turned partially towards him, wearing the boots and belt I had found in the chest, with one glove on my left hand and my right bare.

He held a gun but was not pointing it anywhere. I frowned but slipped the other glove on before turning full around to face him.

“Care to fill in any blanks for me, Vito?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You opened the Witch Hunter Chest. The last time that happened was when Reginald Price opened it in nineteen twenty-seven and removed three items, two of which - a ring and a sword - were confiscated by the Nazis in Germany a few years later, but the book, the Daemonorium, he hid and passed down to his son…”

“That son being Morgan Price?” I asked.

He nodded, then, a touch of sadness in his voice, said: “Look, I really hate to sacrifice Carol this way but her sister put up too much of a fight and if we fail to complete the ritual tonight, some things will escape that are best not imagined, while if we do complete the ritual… well, it might be worth losing her.”

“Color me skeptical - though you really do seem to care about her, and I know she cares about you,” I informed him.

“No,” he said, sadly, “she has been losing interest in me the more time I spend working. Ironically, I started doing it for her but work pretty much took over my life. When I saw you at our house, I thought maybe she had taken on a lover, and felt a little relieved at the thought, though it hurt a bit too,” he confessed.

Of all the strange things I had seen so far while on this case, that one may have caught me the most off guard.

“So, trouble in paradise then?” I asked.

His frown deepened. “Yes, and I am going to have to ask you to do what I must as well - try to forget Carol ever existed. In less than half an hour she will be dead anyway.”

I was about to protest when he interrupted: “Those boots, I know what they are supposed to be able to do - I know nothing about the rest of it. They are called ‘The Messenger’s Boots’ and allegedly first belonged to the high priest of Hermes in Athens. They increase your speed at moving around and allow you to walk on water or air. Not exactly flight, like in the movies but walking. Test them out and see,” he added.

I narrowed my eyes, and he waved at me (gun still in hand, still not pointing at anything in particular). I shrugged and took a few steps. The first one was normal, but then I seemed to accelerate with each successive step. I had to put out my hands to keep from slamming into the far side of the attic.

I turned around and, more carefully this time, stepped up… then stepped up with the other boot.

“Son of a…” this time I did complete the phrase and am censoring the text. So, I have a thing for honesty…

I walked back to where Vito was standing without touching the ground. I was only moving at the speed I would normally walk, but I was walking on the air!

I stepped down in front of him. “So the boots work as advertised. Now what?”

“You take one of the clothing racks, break out a window and get the Hell out of here, using the boots to get down to the ground and then run to your car. Or maybe you can get farther with the boots than you can with that old wreck.”

“And just forget that Carol ever existed?” I replied.

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His sadness was clear when he answered me with a curt nod: “And just forget that Carol ever existed. As I must do, as much as it pains me.”

“What is worth that price?” I asked him, moving to his side.

“Power and immortality. We will control this city within the week, and eventually, the world as its undying rulers,” came the answer.

“Will you be like your brother?” I asked.

He gave me a puzzled look. “Dominic? What about him?”

Surprised at the question, I said: “He turns into some kind of ape thing with wings, bat ears, a wolf’s head and what looked like a shark’s fin on his back.”

Vito was surprised by this. Even more surprised than I had been when I saw Domenic change. “Either Price betrayed us and transposed him, or one of the demons got out last night despite our best efforts, and took him over. Damn.”

I could not tell if he was angry, scared or … something else, maybe frustrated.

“Look, Vito, I think you have been straight with me here, at least as straight as I think you can be, so I really hate to do this…” I said, as I cold cocked him. The gloves worked just like brass knuckles, and he went down for the count with a single blow.

“Hopefully, you and Carol will both thank me for this later,” I told his unconscious form.

Then I had a thought - if the boots can do what he said, maybe these other toys have special features too. The belt buckle looked like a dial, so I tested it and turned it clockwise. The room seemed to get smaller, more cramped - or maybe I was getting larger? Looking at Vito’s body, I was pretty sure of the latter. So, would turning it the other way make me smaller?

I tested it - back at the center, or neutral - position I resumed my normal size and as I turned it counter-clockwise, I did not get smaller but I did notice my skin seemed to darken, and then turn grayish, and the floor began to creak as if under a heavy weight. I took a step and saw a literal crack in the floorboard as my foot came down, very loudly. I tapped the exposed flesh of my arm and heard a “clunking” sound, as if I were tapping metal against ceramic. I could still move normally but my body seemed to have somehow become stone.

I returned the dial to the neutral position and looked at the gloves. No dials or buttons but there was that flame thing so I tapped the one on my left hand with my right forefinger, and the metal part of the glove began to glow. It gave off about as much light as a candle. Useful but not very impressive - but glowing brass knuckles are still brass knuckles, right? I relieved Vito of his gun and headed down the stairs. At the bottom, I could hear faint chanting and did my best to stealthily follow the sound.

As I closed in on the source of the sounds, I also became aware of some odd smells - burning wax and some other, herbal smells, like some sort of spices being burned.

The smells and sounds distracted me a little and, as I turned a corner I almost literally collided with Wendell. He made a surprised sound and threw a punch I just barely blocked with a glowing glove. He yelled in pain and staggered back, giving me a chance to turn the dial on my belt counter-clockwise. He swung his other fist at me and managed to connect with my jaw. The force of the blow made me take a step back, but beyond that I felt nothing. Wendell, on the other hand, well, it looked like he had actually shattered his wrist. On my jaw. I was starting to really like this belt.

I swung my fist with the glowing glove at him… and saw what looked like flames on the metal parts. I hit him on the chin, then followed up with a jab to the gut with my other hand. He doubled over and I hit him in the back of the head with both hands and the butt of the gun in a downward smash.

No flames this time; maybe it had just been my imagination.

On a whim, I touched the flame emblem on the right glove and it, too, began to glow like a candle.

The Other Goon (™) had apparently been assigned to stand watch nearby and he hurried over to investigate the noises his partner had been making. He skidded to a stop just at the far edge of my reach, and fumbled for his gun. I swung a fist at him, hoping the shock of the action would hold him in place long enough for a glancing blow but what actually happened surprised me at least as much as it did him - the metal did, indeed, erupt into flames, but as the arc of my punch ended, the flames continued on, leaping from my arm to him!

His tie, likely a cheap synthetic, burst into fire at their touch!

He staggered back, dropped his firearm, and then showed a level of intelligence that surprised me as he fell to the ground and began to roll around on his chest to extinguish the flames. It worked. It also left him vulnerable to a blow to the base of the skull, sending him off to join Vito and Wendell in dreamland.

I suspect I also broke his nose, given the amount of blood, and briefly hoped it was nothing more serious than that. Would need to get some ambulances out here when this was over. But for now, I had to deal with the heart of the matter and hope I was in time to prevent Carol’s sacrifice.

I opened the door that seemed to be between where the two thugs had been stationed. The strange smells and stranger chanting both became stronger. I checked that the gun was loaded and that the stairs could hold my increased weight and then set off to face the unknown…