Chapter 3
A series of loud knocks rattled the door and rudely interrupted him once again.
“Um… hi.”
Eron was greeted by a young woman with black hair that was way too dark to be her natural color. Her fauxhawk and goth-style clothing evoked a sort of punk witch look. He was instantly suspicious.
“Yeah, so, can we like come in? It’s dangerous to be out in the open for too long.”
Eron looked at the young man standing behind the woman. He looked like a fighter. A head taller than the young woman, who probably had an inch or two on Eron. He had cauliflower ears, like Cal used to have when he was wrestling back in high school. Same thick-necked, broad-shouldered silhouette beneath the thick leather jacket and tactical-style vest.
Curiously the young woman didn’t appear to be armed or armored.
“I don’t know. Are you vampires?”
“Of course not,” the young woman said.
“That’s what you’d say if you were.” Eron stepped away from the door. “I don’t invite you in.”
The young man looked back at the dark street with clear anxiety. “Whatever. I’m not standing out here,” he pushed his way past the young woman and placed his lantern on the front counter, “I can’t believe I listened to you.”
“Don’t be a drama queen.” The young woman followed him in.
Eron locked the door.
“Alright… what’s your story? Is this like some kind of Romeo and Juliet bullshit and you want me to take you with me when I leave?”
The young man and woman laughed.
“I’m not into girls,” the young man said.
“So, what’s this about?”
“Well, we do need your help, but I should probably introduce myself first, my name’s Jose, Joe. You’ve met my abuela and my cousin.”
Eron saw the resemblance.
“What’d I tell you about giving your name out?” the young woman huffed.
“What? It’s not my full name.”
“Eron, also not my full, real name,” Eron said.
“Names have power,” the young woman said.
“C’mon Lon—”
The young woman shushed Joe with a swipe of her gloved hand.
Eron’s eyes narrowed. “And you know this for a fact.”
The young woman nodded gravely. “My Class allows me to perform magic. I can tell that I don’t need to explain. If you’ve been traveling then you must’ve already seen it.”
“Yeah, seen lots of magic.”
“I have so many questions,” the young woman eyes glittered.
“Name first.”
The young woman held her head high. “I go by Wytchraven, with a Y. My nom de guerre. For protection from potential magical threats.”
Eron had guessed they were high school age, maybe early college. He immediately downgraded the woman’s age a couple of years lower.
“You’re serious,” Eron said flatly. He took a breath and reminded himself not to judge and dismiss her immediately. The spires made the world strange. Made people strange. “Care to explain?”
“Not entirely. I don’t trust you,” Wytchraven said.
“Fair, but I still need something if you want something from me.”
“C’mon, Lon— Raven… I’m not calling you Wytchraven,” Joe rolled his eyes. “Remember, coming here was your idea.”
“I have a Spell that kinda lets me track people like GPS if I know their true name.”
“Alright, I’ll buy it until proven otherwise.” Eron didn’t really need sleep anyways. It was boring. This might be interesting even if it was some kind of trap or scam. He was inclined to believe the two. Their working together like this was at odds with the race-based animosity he had seen displayed between the separated halves of the city. “What do you want from me?”
Eron could hear their hearts beating in their chests. They had been scared the entire time, but now their hearts were pounding. He readied himself.
“Um…” Wytchraven began nervously. “It’s hard to explain, but I’m, like ninety percent sure that there’s some kind of evil entity responsible for my dad’s missing cows and the people going missing from the west side.”
Eron studied the two.
Joe looked torn between fear and indignation.
While Wytchraven displayed a mix of hope and a haunted weariness.
“Got something to add, Joe?”
“Nothing. Just that it’s bullshit that they’re more worried about a cow going missing than my people.”
Eron watched closely, but he couldn’t detect any animosity between the young man and woman. Whatever their thoughts on the rest of their community didn’t seem to be reflected in their relationship. He guessed that they were probably longtime friends.
“So, cows from the east side and people from the west side.”
“Yeah, but they blame us. Say we’re ‘rustling’ their cattle.” Joe mocked the typical southern accent.
Wytchraven shook her head. “My Spells don’t indicate that. It’s definitely something else, wrong. Makes me sick just feeling it.”
“Like a monster or mutant animal?”
“No. I know what those feel like. This is different. Worse. Evil.”
“So, it’s a person?” Eron frowned.
“Different from that too. It’s…” Wytchraven hesitated. “It’s kinda like the feeling you’re giving off,” she sighed.
“And you still came here alone… reckless and foolish,” Eron said.
“No, no, no,” Wytchraven waved her hands. “You’re totally different. I’m not getting an evil feeling from you.”
“Okay, I’ll see what I can do, but no promises and I’m leaving when my deal with your abuela is done,” Eron nodded at Joe, “even if I haven’t dealt with this possible evil entity.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The two young people exchanged a look.
Eron sighed. He was probably only four or five years older than them, but he felt so much more. “What?”
“We have to help you or at least be visibly with you when you do it,” Joe said.
“If it’s the two of us working together,” Wytchraven laid a hand on Joe’s arm, “then maybe we can at least slow down the building violence between the two halves of our city.”
Eron laughed. Short, bitter. “Basically, platonic Romeo and Juliet then. Except with evil horrors out in the dark. Wonderful,” he said flatly. “When do we start?”
“Now,” Wytchraven said.
“You sure? Like you said it’s dangerous out in the dark.”
Wytchraven nodded. “For some reason I feel that as long as we’re with you we won’t have to fight any of the usual monsters.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
The young woman was right about that.
It’d take a pretty powerful monster to attack Eron inside a human controlled city’s boundaries.
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Eron followed Wytchraven and Joe out to her father’s farm.
The light from the latter’s lantern was shuttered to a thin stream, but it was more than enough to turn the dark night into day in Eron’s enhanced vision.
It was interesting that Wytchraven didn’t have her own light yet she walked steadily through the pasture’s uneven ground.
He made a mental note to ask Joe what her real name was as soon as possible.
Eron heard the rustle of feathers in the wind and the cawing of a crow or four. Nice to see that there were still regular animals out there. There had been a decided lack of them in the spaces between populated cities and towns all along I-5. Too many monsters and mutant animals.
They eventually stopped in the open.
Eron could see the tiny-looking ranch house that must’ve belonged to Wytchraven’s family. She hadn’t said it outright, but he had put the clues together and guessed her father was the old man he had encountered when he first arrived. That meant Brett was her older brother. He wanted to laugh at the thought of them realizing that their daughter was out cavorting with their lessers.
The ranch house was lit up by numerous lanterns and generator-powered lights. If he focused he could hear their rumbling over the distance.
He could see people going about their business inside the house. People were so tiny when he looked at them, like action figures.
“This was where the last cow was found, well, her remains,” Wytchraven said. “Something must’ve happened to spook the entity. This was the first time that there was any… remains.”
“So, why’d your dad and his goons decide to drive down and confront Joe’s people,” Eron scanned the torn up grass and soil. There was evidence everywhere. Blood and bits of meat and offal were scattered all over the place. “I mean one look at this and you’d think animal or monster.”
“Racism,” Joe said. Then he looked over at Wytchraven. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he sighed.
“No, you’re right,” Wytchraven’s shoulders slumped. “But that’s what we’re trying to change,” she straightened. “Okay, so, Eron, you can obviously see more than us.”
“Two blood trails. One,” Eron pointed to the barn in the distance, “I’m guessing your people took the carcass there.”
Wytchraven nodded.
“Two,” Eron pointed out into the open plains where small hills gently sloped as the yellow grass swayed in the night breeze. “Still want to come along?”
“Maybe we should come back during the day?” Joe ventured hopefully.
Wytchraven vehemently shook her head. “My Dad and brothers aren’t going to dare follow us out of the city now. It’s the only reason why I’m even able to be out here. I slipped out while they were busy being dicks. If they catch me again they’ll lock me in my room.”
“How old are you?” Eron raised a brow.
“Twenty. Why?”
“Just curious,” Eron shrugged. “Things work differently outside city boundaries. Fair warning.”
“We know,” Joe said. “That’s why I don’t want to go out there,” he jabbed his barb wire-wrapped and nail-encrusted bat out into the darkness.
Eron heard the flap of massive leathery wings in the distance. Still far enough away if he judged it correctly.
“Your call. Just know that I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Wytchraven pulled out a short length of gnarled wood out of her bag.
“Is that a magic wand?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool,” Eron grinned. “That’s new.”
Wytchraven looked at him with suspicion. “Are we going or not?”
“Fine,” Joe huffed.
“Okay. I’ll take the lead. Stay close and watch your backs.”
Eron followed the blood trail through the grass as he tried to block out the jack-hammering hearts of the two young people crowding his heels.
This was a mistake. He should’ve brought them to their homes first and gone ahead on his own. Stupid of him. They slowed him down too much.
He could’ve ran the trail down in minutes, instead it had been almost an hour.
There was nothing but small hills and open plains everywhere he looked. Fortunately, they hadn’t encountered any monsters or mutant animals.
The drake Eron had heard on the wind was long gone.
He did hear the rustle of feathers and crows cawing from time to time, which was strange, especially so far away from the city.
“There,” Wytchraven pointed in the darkness.
Eron followed her finger and noticed an outcropping of rocks. They seemed out of place until he looked further to the east and noticed foothills leading to the mountains.
The trail was getting fainter, but they were leading in that direction.
Eron smelled the decay well before they reached the rock formation. It grew to an unbearable stench by the time they got there.
“Oh my god! This is heinous,” Joe said. He clutched his bat like a talisman to ward away evil.
“I can feel it. This place is Evil with a capital E.”
“No one talk.” Eron strained his senses to their limits. Nothing. Not even bugs or lizards. The entire surrounding area was dead. The only thing he could hear was the grass rustling in the wind. Even the crows had gone silent. “Okay, there is definitely something weird going on here.”
“The trail?”
“Leads here.” Eron scanned the area. “Stay close.” He walked around once, then twice before he spotted an opening in the tightly packed rock cluster. It was about twenty feet off the ground and there were no handholds in the smooth, straight surface. “I see an opening, but it’s up there and I don’t see any ropes or other way to reach it.”
“I can’t see shit,” Joe held up his lantern toward where Eron had pointed, but the light wasn’t focused enough.
“I can get up there, but that means leaving you two out here.”
“I vote against that idea,” Joe said quickly.
“No, it’s fine. I can feel it. This is an evil place. Even the monsters avoid it,” Wytchraven said in an almost wistful sounding voice, like she was high.
Eron exchanged a glance with Joe, who shrugged.
“She does that sometimes when weird stuff is happening.”
“Alright, scream if you need help.” Eron jumped up the twenty feet and squeezed into the opening. It was a tight fit, so he had to turn sideways.
“Holy shit! Did you see that?” Joe said.
“Yes,” Wytchraven stared out into the darkness without blinking.
Eron kept an ear on the pair as he went deeper into the rock formation. It was like a cave and it was dark and it stank even worse than outside.
His boots crunched on what could only be bones as he slid across the rocks. Some surfaces felt wet and slimy. He tried to ignore them.
Mercifully, the narrow passage opened up into a wider chamber.
The space was oval in shape and there was enough room for him to stand at his full height without hitting the ceiling. He could see where the two giant boulders had come to rest on the rocks that made up the floor.
All thoughts of the geological feature were driven from his mind when he noticed the altar up against the back wall.
Things were dim even for him this far away from any light sources, so he made his own. It took effort and not an insignificant amount of his internal energy, but he willed his eyes to emit a yellow-gold light. At this stage it was like a weak flashlight, but he hoped with time and practice he’d actually have heat vision or something similar.
The light shined on the altar and Eron wished that he hadn’t done that.
The altar was covered in bones. Some still had meat and flesh attached.
There were many different kinds of bones.
Cattle primarily, but he noticed a misshapen canine skull, likely a mutant coyote.
What truly rattled him though were the three human skulls with portions of vertebrae still attached carefully hung on the altar.
“What I wouldn’t give for a camera. They’re not going to believe me. Unless…”
Eron returned and relayed his findings.
He offered to take Wytchraven up to see it with her own eyes. Joe was too big to fit through the opening.
The poor young woman vomited as soon as she set foot in the chamber. One look at the altar had her crying and begging to be taken out.
Eron obliged.
He was less enthused about having to carry the young woman on his back with the smell of vomit on her breath due to the fact that she collapsed into unconsciousness as soon as they left the rock chamber.
He had to carry her all the way back to town.