Devin had seen plenty of crazy shit driving cabs, sometimes literally. He’d had pukers, fuckers, shitters, and pissers, all in a very literal sense. More often than not, a passenger tended to be talkative, though, which was annoying, but at least it was mundane. Devin could directly correlate these things with how drunk a passenger was, which happened more often the further past midnight it was. He always figured the most exciting or weirdest stories would come from a drunkard, until tonight.
When he’d gotten the pick-up request, he’d been a little perplexed. He knew the building, and that no one lived there. It’d been condemned months ago because of some catastrophic water damage. The guy who’d owned the building had been hit with a massive lawsuit. So, when Devin got the request for a ride, he was uneasy. He’d nearly cancelled, but curiosity got the better of him.
The lady who got in the car smelled awful, and immediately asked to be taken up the canyon. She was drenched in what seemed like every bodily fluid possible, and Devin nearly threw up on the spot and kicked her out. But instead, he choked out, “Uh, rough night?” and immediately felt like an ass when she stared, deadpan, and said: “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
It was the mother of all awkward silences. Devin wrestled between his typical “don’t fuck with it” attitude and the boiling bubble of guilt that was building up inside of him. Eventually he said, “You, uh . . . you gonna call someone?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Cause, y’know, these kinds of things . . . they’re time-sensitive, y’know, and . . . uh . . . I can come with you if you like.”
“What?” she said, tired and annoyed.
“I just thought that y’know, that, uh . . . Never mind.”
They drove up a canyon just outside the city. It wound up between pine trees that stretched straight up, blocking the moon from view. It was totally dark, and Devin had to turn on his brights to see anything at all. He always hated driving the canyons at night. He imagined some fuck-off elk meandering in front of him from a bend and knew that either he smacked into the elk and totaled his car or swerved and killed himself as he toppled over a cliff. These terrible choices made him hyperalert, so he carefully meandered up the canyon, slowing at every bend. He thought he was approaching a dead end when his phone beeped, “You have arrived at your destination.”
He blinked, and out of nowhere a shimmering, moonlit lake yawned out at Devin. Devin was suddenly queasy. He shouldn’t be seeing this. Across the lake, a small house stood, lightless. It reminded Devin of some really bad horror movies, and he said, “Uh, you gonna be alright, miss?”
“Fine,” she said, clambering out of the car, “Sorry about the mess.”
“Yeah.”
She walked off toward the house, and Devin turned around and left, feeling like the worst person in the world as he drove away with relief washing over him.
----------------------------------------
Even after two showers, Addy still smelled the musky mucus of the monster on her face. She flopped onto her lumpy bed and closed her eyes. A phantom, leathery tongue wiped across her face, and she shuddered. Addy felt like an amateur again, back when she’d had no spells, didn’t even know what silver did, and only had Splinter.
Thinking of her knife, she flicked it open. The glimmering magenta blade reflected a stretched face back at her. A shard of that king’s sword, or so the Lady claimed. A symbol of Addy’s bondage through inherited oaths and debts. A tiny sliver passed down since the fall of Rome from father to son and so on until eventually it came to her. She held a piece of history in her hands. She’d like to chuck it back into the lake where it belonged.
Addy snapped the blade closed and stared at her ceiling instead. She traced the same patterns on the white, speckled surface her dad must’ve. Swirls and shadows forming mundane tracks that grabbed the eye as it followed illusory paths leading nowhere. Part of her thought she was being deep. Another part of her thought she needed to get some fucking sleep.
Finally! S said, Fully reformed.
“Oh, good,” Addy closed her eyes, “You gonna tell me a bedtime story?”
Through her closed eyelids, Addy sensed a green glow off to the right that said, “Once upon a time, there was a very hungover girl and her brilliant familiar. This hungover girl hunted monsters, but had a weakness for drink, even though her snake told her it would get her killed—”
“If you were corporeal, I’d slap you,” Addy said.
“I could say the same to you,” S said, “You nearly ‘bit it,’ as you would say. And now that thing is roaming free while you’re in no shape to take it down.”
“So, it’s all my fault?” Addy said.
“You have a responsibility—”
“Bullshit,” Addy snapped, “I have a coerced obligation. There’s a big fucking difference, you slithery nightlight.”
She glared at S, who recoiled.
“Perhaps,” S said, recovering his composure, “But coerced or not, it is necessary. You are the only person currently equipped to deal with that thing. And the longer it roams free, the more children it will kill. You have, what, a single day based on its killing pattern to take it out before it slaughters another child? If you’d been on top of things—”
“Don’t tell me about being on top of things,” Addy snarled, “Do you have any fucking idea how exhausting it is cleaning up all these problems for that sodden bitch? Of course, you don’t, because you’re a fucking spirit. You don’t even get tired. You’re like a locomotive flashlight, just floating through the air and pestering me about bullshit.”
“I pester you to save lives,” S said.
“People die every day!” Addy shouted, “Why the hell can’t I take turns with someone? Jesus Christ, what I wouldn’t give to tag someone else in for a week or two to help out. I’m at my limit, S. Do you understand?”
S paused for a moment, then said, “No.”
“Your empathy is overwhelming,” Addy said coldly.
“Your petulance is irritating,” S said.
Addy paused, and took a deep breath, covering her face as she sighed. She was exhausted, and her hangover hadn’t totally disappeared yet. She just wanted to sleep. But she knew that S wouldn’t let her. Not until she made some kind of progress hunting down this monster.
“What should we call it?” Addy asked.
“Pardon?”
“I said, what should we call this thing?” Addy said, “Unless you already know what it is?”
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S shook his tiny snake’s head.
“I say we call it the Misty Snatcher,” Addy said.
“It doesn’t exactly snatch, though, does it?” S said.
“Would you prefer ‘Misty Strangler?’” Addy said, “Because to me, that sounds more like a serial killer. Misty Snatcher sounds more like a monster.”
“Whatever,” S said, “Misty Snatcher it is.”
“It’ll be easier to talk about now we’ve given it a name,” Addy said, “So, the next question is, how do we beat it?”
“Did Splinter fail?” S asked.
“Yeah, it just passed through it,” Addy said, “It was like it turned into mist when I struck it. It was like fighting a phantom.”
“Do you think it might be one?” S said, “If so, perhaps some incense—”
“Don’t be stupid,” Addy said, “If it was a phantom, then it wouldn’t have bothered to munch on those kids’ flesh. It would have just gone straight for the goodies inside their soul and would sure as hell made less of a ruckus.”
“It could be a variant of a phantom,” S pointed out.
“I don’t think so,” Addy said, “The way my blade passed through it . . . It’s difficult to explain, but it was almost as if it was reacting to the cuts I made. The mist parted as I swung at it. When I strike phantoms, it’s more like slashing light. No, this was a distinctly physical being. One that may be able to turn into mist, but still physical.”
“Then we should consider a stronger silver concentration.”
Addy hesitated, then said, “I’m not sure it would make a difference.”
“What makes you say that?”
“It didn’t even recoil when I sprayed it,” Addy said, “Normally when I use the atomizer, even if the concentration is too low, the Monster will flinch. I don’t think this is a typical resistance; I think it might be immune to silver.”
“Well, that is certainly atypical,” S said, “Are you sure it’s not a phantom?”
“Positive,” Addy said, “Remember the cardinal rule of Monsters: the rules apply until they don’t. All Occult knowledge is basically a bunch of trends that form assumptions that idiots take as immutable fact to their peril. I’m not interested in being in any more peril than I need to, so let’s proceed with the assumption that it’s not just resistant, but entirely immune to silver.”
“That’s a surprisingly cogent argument coming from you, Addy.”
“It’s what I tell myself every single time I deal with fucking monsters, so I’ve had practice,” Addy said.
“Very well, then: the Misty Snatcher is immune to silver,” S conceded, “We could enlist some allies who would be very interested in studying it. They may even have some ideas on how to take it down.”
“I’ll stick with my regulars,” Addy said, “I won’t let that thing survive our next fight. And the last thing I want is to give some sick fuck like Ooros the idea to summon another one of these things for his sick experiments. Especially since his Monsters seem to have the nasty habit of escaping.”
“If you insist,” S said, “But do you have any ideas on how to take it out?”
“Well, this is kind of a stretch, but...” Addy stopped and looked at her knees.
“I’m waiting with bated breath,” S said.
“Maybe we could freeze it.”
S remained silent for a moment, then said, “But you don’t have any spells that control temperature.”
“Oh, geez, thanks for the reminder,” Addy rolled her eyes, “I know I don’t have anything in the Driftwood Tome that’ll freeze it, but there are other ways to freeze something. Like liquid nitrogen.”
S blinked, “Pardon, but how in the world will you get liquid nitrogen on such short notice?”
“I could steal it,” Addy said, “It’d be for a noble cause.”
“That is incredibly stupid.”
“What?” Addy said, “I could totally do it. It wouldn’t be the first time—”
“Addy, you have no idea how to safely handle liquid nitrogen.”
“I could learn—”
“And even if you did, how would you find the time to find a supplier and track down the Misty Snatcher and not get caught by the police all on the same day?” S continued, “It presents a rather volatile element, wouldn’t you say?”
“Well, what do you suggest, genius?”
“You could always see the Leaser.”
Addy blinked, then glanced away, feeling a little flush of shame.
“I’m pretty sure she hates me now.”
“She’ll still do business with you,” S pointed out.
“At ridiculous mark-ups,” Addy complained.
“But you could still get your hands on a freezing Spell.”
“She might not even have one!”
“It is still markedly a superior option to stealing liquid nitrogen.”
Try as she might, Addy could tell she would not win this argument. She sighed, “Fine, I’ll talk with her.”
“Good!” S perked up, “I was certain you’d see sense.”
“That just leaves the question of how in the world we’re going to track it down and trap it,” Addy said.
“It seems to consume the dreams of children,” S said.
“That’s not enough to go on, since there are literally thousands of children in this city,” Addy frowned, “I guess I better visit the Geezer tomorrow.”
“Do you think he will be able to provide some kind of insight?” S asked.
“He has in the past,” Addy shrugged, “Besides, it’ll mean I can put off talking to the Leaser.”
“How prudent of you.”
----------------------------------------
Addy wasn’t a morning person, and the misery of the previous night only made waking up at the crack of dawn even worse than usual. She didn’t wake up early because she needed more time to track down the Misty Snatcher, but because she had to go through one of her least favorite rituals to prepare for the fight, a ritual that could only be conducted at dawn.
The brisk morning air raised goosebumps all over Addy’s exposed skin, and she pulled her bathrobe tighter around her. She bustled over to the lake, whose pristine blue surface came alive with shimmering light as the morning sun struck its glassy surface. It smelled of rotting dead fish and moldy leaves, despite its clean appearance. One of the dubious benefits of serving the Lady was access to this Lake and its contents. No one could even come here without Addy’s or the Lady’s permission. It was a secret hideout, a fortress shielded by illusion from the many enemies that Addy had accrued during her brief tenure in the Lady’s service. No one was around to ogle her, but she still felt exposed as she let the bathrobe drop upon reaching the water’s edge. She only had on a pair of flip flops to protect her feet from the pebbly excuse for a beach that circled the lake.
Taking a deep breath, Addy strode straight into the lake. Dipping her feet in, the shocking cold made her whole body spasm, and she stumbled forward, gritting her teeth against the unpleasant chill. She strode forward until only her head was above the water’s surface. The cold seemed to shrink her lungs, and she gasped for air. She floated until she finally felt her body acclimate to the frigid water as a bloom of warmth flooded from her chest through her limbs. Then she submerged, snapping her eyes shut.
The water’s chill licked unpleasantly at her face as she suddenly sank deeper and deeper into depths beyond what her feet could have possibly touched before. Then, she gulped in the water. Its bitter slime coated her tongue, making her stomach convulse with disgust. She coughed, and great bubbles gurgled around her head as she snapped her eyes open. She could breathe, though it felt like she was inhaling syrup.
The lake swarmed with glittering silver fish that swam in undulating schools around her. Kelp rose from the unseen lakebed, wavering in the underwater currents. Everything was colored a sickly shade of green, and darkness seemed to creep in from all sides. Even looking up, Addy could not see the surface of the lake; no sun glinted down to her. She saw nothing but green darkness. But as she scanned around, Addy glimpsed a shining blue light off to the side, glinting from within a dim halo.
Clenching her flip flops between her toes, Addy swam toward the light. It grew larger and larger with each successive stroke until finally she saw the marble pedestal upon the rocky mound that rose from the lake’s unseen depths. As she drew closer, the light dimmed to nothing at all, and she saw a piece of driftwood floating above the pedestal, tied by a thick, rusted iron chain that had long since been covered in thick, furry algae.
This was the Driftwood Tome. Within it resided the Spells the Lady had granted to Addy. As she touched its soft, uneven surface, she could feel them respond, licking at her palm like candle-flames. She could distinguish each and every presence within. The reliable trifecta pushed to the front expectantly. She sent a mental command, and Healer retreated hesitantly, as if worried about why Addy hadn’t chosen her. Instead, another came forward: Pond Phaser. She wasn’t entirely certain what would happen, but she knew that if she needed to lay a trap, she would need to get to places that she otherwise couldn’t. And like that, she felt Blaster, Dampening Sphere, and Pond Phaser suddenly wriggle into her palm, tickling her at first, but turning into uncomfortable pressure that suddenly released as the three eager Spells shoved their way inside. They traveled through her arm until they took up residence in her gut, lazily swimming within.
Addy let go of the Driftwood Tome and closed her eyes again, holding her breath until she could feel her lungs burn, then snapped her eyes open again to see sunlight glinting through the water above. She shoved her way upward and broke through the water’s surface, then took in a great gulp of air.
As usual, although she’d swum to the center of the lake, she somehow appeared kneeling on the shore, not even knowing how she’d left the water. Addy wrung her hair, sending a clear stream of water dribbling onto the pebble-strewn ground. She shivered, feeling as if the chill morning air would freeze the droplets of water to her face. Teeth chattering, she rushed back to the house.