This is Episode 2-6 of a serial urban fantasy & paranormal story.

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Part 2-6: Minder

The next game was: how many monsters?

We sat with our backs to the wooden door, watching the gruesome procession. We figured there were fewer than sixty, since we’d not seen any monsters upon first entering the hall. Unless we activated them. Our bet was on 58 as well; one for each yellow sconce. One for each minute claimed by Eden.

At blob #57 we stood up. It ignored us and blobbed on.

Fifty-eight emerged from the shadows, ugly and misshapen like all its kin. I peered past it, looking for the tendon. It wasn’t there, but what was there behind the blob was a man in a top hat and old-timey suit. He held a riding crop, and gave #58 a half-hearted slap every five steps or so. It didn’t seem to mind. His expression was granite—he must’ve been the most bored ghost in all the nether regions. I couldn’t say I blamed him.

“Hello!” I said, as they got closer.

The guy stopped, not looking at us. His head tilted with the universal sign of ‘did I hear something?’ He blinked, and caught up to his charge, thwacking it a few extra times, perhaps to make up for the brief reprieve.

“Hey!” I tried again.

Persi jammed a thumb and finger into her mouth and let loose a shrill hoot. Top-hat flinched and shook, like he’d been roused from a deep slumber. He noticed us at last.

“Halt!” he cried.

The blobs obeyed. I redoubled my grip on the stand.

“You there, who goes there?” He had a light Yorkshire accent, but otherwise his voice was rather flat and nondescript, beside being male. Doubtlessly, he was another fake part of this world, like the china cabinets that couldn’t break.

“I’m Sally and this is Jane,” I said, in a burst of improvisation. “We’re lost and looking for the exit.”

“Exit? No.” He shook his head. “Are you the last two?”

I thought of the two white sconces.

“We know about the last two,” I continued. “We are here to bring them in. If we can find the way out, you understand.”

“We were told to hurry,” Persi added.

“I am but the Minder,” said the man. “But come to my study. We shall try to raise the Collector.” He strode under the sconce and waited with his hands clasped behind his back. The stonework grumbled and a low vibration kicked up, permeating every fibre of my being. It wasn’t like the floor was shaking, it felt like it was coming from inside me.

Then it stopped. At the same time a fine powder sprayed out from between the stones in front of the man who called himself the Minder. It settled around him in a fine cloud. He walked into the wall, straight through the stones, and disappeared.

“Guess we, uh…” I said.

“Guess so.”

I turned around and walked backwards so I didn’t have to think about walking through what looked like solid rocks. The trick worked. One moment I could see the heavy wooden door, the next moment I was staring at stones. My ring started to itch, and I turned.

It was, as promised, a study of some sort. Cut from the same posh cloth as the parlor, it featured a cozy fireplace, an area to sit, some well kept shelves, and a big, commanding desk. The man sat on this desk, slapping his palm with the horsewhip.

“The Collector’s been a trick to summon lately, I’m afraid,” he said. “But we must see what we can do.”

“Before we do that, any way you might be able to give us a quick tour? Show us around? We’re ever so curious,” I said. I remained near the wall, wary of venturing any further into the room or closer to this new monster.

“That’s the Keeper’s jurisdiction, Miss Sally. We can arrange this, surely, but if you’ve news on the last two, then the Collector must know. A moment.”

The fireplace thumped to life. The flames inside were bright blue. The flat light died away, surrendering the study to flickering sapphire. I knew that blue. It was alive and vital. It belonged to the devil that started this whole mess.

“Alena… the fire,” Persi said, shuffling close to me.

“Alena? Alena?” The Minder slid off the desk. “That name.”

“Oh, crap,” she said.

He took a step forward. His eyes were a swirl of blue. The fire roared, whipping out of the hearth as if it had a strong gust at its back. Blue sparks skittered across the stone floor.

I needed no further invitation. I took three big strides towards the fool in the top hat and shoved the stand’s four spikes into his chest. It sunk in with little resistance. He gasped and Persi said, “Holy!” I stepped back. The Minder pawed at the top of the stand, now plastered to his body like a thick post-it note. My ring tingled, itched, burned.

The Minder stumbled and the fire dimmed. He got a hand on the edge of the desk, seemed to steady himself, then stood tall again.

“You,” it said, all traces of charm gone. Blue light came from its mouth now. My hand was full of the ring’s fire. It curled my fingers, jerking them towards a fist. He began to raise his arms.

“Shit shit shit!” This was my war cry, my intimidating roar, as I plunged forward and cocked my arm back. I wanted to crack him in the jaw, or maybe straight in the neck. But when I swung, I punched him square in the vase stand instead.

Four golden lightning bolts cracked out of his back, each flying into the far corners of the study. At the same time, the world flashed yellow and I saw the outline of a skeleton where the Minder stood. The flash cleared as the room disintegrated in a shower of flashing sparks, flying dust and pebbles.

My arm flopped to my side, numb, as I backpedaled, trying to avoid the flying debris. Persi caught me round the shoulders as I was about to fall, but my momentum tripped us both and we sprawled onto the grass.

Grass?

The last traces of the room melted away, the rain of rocks and sparks harmless as dust on our skin, and we took in the latest scene courtesy of wackadoodle castle world.

 

Continued in Part 2-7

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