Blackened Read online

  BLACKENED

  THE BLOODLETTER SAGA

  II

  Erik Henry Vick

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  For my nephew Reid.

  My son, why do you hide your face in fear?

  Father, do you not see the Erl-king?

  The Erl-king with crown and cape?

  —Erlkönig, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  I hope you enjoy Blackened. If so, please consider joining my Readers Group—details can be found at the end of the last chapter.

  Chapter 1

  1979

  A note before you get started: The complete contents of this book are also available as the second part of Demon King (https://ehv4.us/4demonking), Book One of The Bloodletter Collections (https://ehv4.us/4theblc).

  1

  Benny regained consciousness slowly—coming to like a drunk waking up after a long night of pounding down cheap beer. He opened his eyes and gasped in fright.

  The king carried him in his arms as a loving father would, but the king no longer resembled a man. His skin was blackened and loose, and instead of fingernails, his hands ended in long, sharp-looking talons. His face was grotesque. Loose skin hung from his cheekbones. His mouth was too wide, and two three-inch tusk-like fangs protruded from his lower jaw, keeping his fat, rubbery lips from closing all the way. The king’s ears were long and pointed, with tufts of coarse black hair over them. His eyes were the worst though. Where a human would have whites, he had solid orbs that were silver with specks of black throughout. Oblong pupils split his eyes, giving him a cat-like appearance. His nose hung from his face like an afterthought—huge and crooked.

  The king glanced down at him, and his mouth stretched wider in an evil grin. “Get a good look, boyo. I don’t mind.” Benny’s eyes lingered on the long, tusk-like teeth and seeing this, the thing carrying him laughed. “Don’t mind my skull-crushers, Benny. Stay on my good side, and you’ll never see them up close and personal.”

  The ecstatic feeling that had filled Benny during the car trip past the woods had disappeared. Fear took its place. “Are you the man with the bikes?”

  The king threw back his head and barked laughter at the treetops. “Why, sport? Have you decided to sell after all? But that ship has departed the docks. Do I look like any man you’ve ever known?”

  Benny shook his head and tried to keep his lips from quivering. “Why are you so…”

  “Hideous? Heinous? Monstrous? Grotesque?” The thing laughed again. “I could ask you the same, but I already know the answer, monkey-boy.”

  “What…what do you want? Why did you make me come to you?”

  “You are a fine lad, Benjamin. A sport. You delight my senses, and my daughters will love you. Plus, you showed courage when you came to the house looking for your delectable young friend. It will be fun to play games with you.”

  “My… Is Toby…”

  “Don’t worry, sport. Everything is prepared for you. Sensed you’d be coming for a visit, we did, and the girls wanted to dote on you.”

  “The girls.”

  “My daughters.”

  “Daughters,” Benny echoed, almost overcome by a wave of lightheadedness.

  “Yes. Are you unwell, my fine boy?” He didn’t wait for an answer, though. He cackled his horrifying laugh and leaped into the air with an acrobatic flourish. At the apex of his leap, leathery wings snapped open from his back, and they were flying. The king swooped between the tree trunks as if he had memorized the location of each and every tree.

  “Who are you?” murmured Benny.

  “You may call me Herlequin.”

  “What kind of name is that?”

  Herlequin shrugged. “The kind you may use to address me.”

  “Are you…are you a demon?” asked Benny, watching the leathery wings flap lackadaisically and more than a little out-of-step with each other.

  Herlequin cackled. “Well, People through the ages have called me an elf, a fairy, a brownie, a leprechaun, a kobold, a troll, an ogre, a doppelganger, and a gargoyle; I suppose adding demon to the list won’t hurt.”

  Benny sighed. “Do you ever answer straight?”

  Herlequin slow rolled and juked to avoid a low hanging branch, laughing the whole time.

  “If you’re not a demon, why do you look like one?”

  “I can appear to be anything I want. Human senses are easy to fool. That’s why games with your kind are so much fun.”

  “Are you saying you can do magic? I don’t believe you.” Despite his bravado, Benny’s voice wavered the tiniest bit.

  Herlequin smiled his nasty smile but held his tongue.

  Benny shook his head. “So what do you look like?”

  “Well, sport, this is how I look when I’m not playing tricks. I’m not a demon, however, so put that fear out of your mind. There’s no such thing as demons or devils.”

  “What are you? What are you really?”

  “It doesn’t matter, boyo. I’m here, you’re here. We’re going to play such games together.”

  It seemed to Benny that the wood was getting darker and darker as if the sun were setting. He looked up, past Herlequin’s head. The branches of the trees interlaced, one with another, until the canopy was like a solid, woven thing. Herlequin followed his gaze, glancing up at the canopy. “No tricks there, boy-of-mine. It took patience and hard labor to train the trees to grow thus.”

  “Why? To hide the forest from planes?”

  Herlequin cackled his tiresome laugh. “No, no, sport. As I said before, human senses are easy to trick. If I wanted to hide, no one would see me. It’s as simple as that.”

  Benny couldn’t be sure, but a pinch of falsehood rang in Herlequin’s voice. “So why?”

  Herlequin sighed. “This constant questioning is irritating, kiddo.”

  “My name is Benny.”

  “I get that, sport. You’ll answer to hopscotch if that’s what I call you. Or pretty-pink-paisley for that matter.”

  Benny held his tongue. He didn’t want to argue with Herlequin while he was flying Benny through the air. “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Shall we play a game now?” asked Herlequin. “Are you awake enough? In control of your faculties?”

  Fear gripped Benny by his guts. “I…I don’t know the rules. I don’t know what kind of game you mean.”

  One of Herlequin’s eyes rolled down to stare at Benny, while the other stayed trained on the forest ahead. A smile twitched on the thing’s rubbery lips. “It’s an easy game to learn, sport. Your friend Toby learned it right away.” Herlequin’s voice grew wistful. “He was a masterful player. Quite satisfying.”

  “Is he… Did you…”

  “I wish to remind you that those aborted sentences are questions, boy.”

  Benny sighed. “I wanted to know if Toby is…”

  “What, sport? Dead?”

  Benny nodded, his agreement marred by his miserable expression.

  “No, boy. Toby’s heart still beats in his chest.”

  Again, Benny had the strangest feeling the Herlequin was telling a half-truth. “I’m not stupid,” he said with all the petulance of a prepubescent boy.

  “Watch that tongue, boyo, or I’ll have my daughters rip it from your head.” Herlequin’s tone was light, teasing, but Benny didn’t believe for a second he was joking. “But, we were talking about the game. Do you wish to begin?”

  “Not until you explain the rules,” said Benny, keeping his voice respectful.

  “It’s simple.” He
rlequin dropped his legs and landed without making a sound. He set Benny down on the carpet of old, brown leaves. “Here’s how it works. You run. Or hide, whichever. I come after you.”

  “Hide and seek? You want to play hide and seek with me?”

  Herlequin’s smile did more to frighten Benny than reassure him. “My daughters and I call it ‘The Hunt,’ but I guess you could call it ‘hide and seek’ if that suits you better.”

  “The Hunt?” Benny’s voice sounded weak, even to himself. “What…what happens if you catch me?”

  Herlequin’s lips split apart to reveal three rows of sharp teeth in addition to the big fangs. Predator’s teeth, Benny had learned in science. Carnivore’s teeth. “We eat you, of course.”

  Benny trembled. “I don’t want to play.”

  “Want? Who asked what you want? I asked if you are ready.”

  Benny shook his head.

  “Oh, I don’t know, sport. You look ready.” Herlequin looked him in the eye. His black and gray eyes seemed to spin and dance. “You’d better be.”

  Benny tried to tear his eyes away, tried to shake his head, but his neck muscles ignored his commands.

  “Speak up, boyo. Remember: silence means assent.” A sly smile spread across Herlequin’s face. “All you have to do is say ‘no’ if you’re not ready.”

  Benny tried to speak, but like his neck muscles, his voice didn’t do what he wanted it to.

  “Ah! I thought you’d be a sport! Very well. Let us begin!” Herlequin clapped his hands and hopped in place.

  Like a four-year-old, thought Benny.

  “I’ll tell you what, champ, if you can evade me for three days, I’ll let you go back to your boring life. Does that sound reasonable?”

  Again, Benny tried to force words out, but nothing happened.

  “I’m so glad you agree. Go ahead, boyo. Get started.”

  Benny stood there, looking up at Herlequin, trying to force words out of his mouth.

  Herlequin’s smile faltered. “Well?” he asked, sounding like a small child. “Why don’t you start?”

  Benny got his mouth open, but his tongue lay there like a dead snake. “Nnnnnth!” he managed.

  Herlequin’s face froze, and his friendly expression shattered. His face twisted with rage, and his rubbery lips twitched while spittle raced down his chin. His eyes blazed: twin pits of black fire, and his taloned hands clenched and unclenched. “What are you waiting for?” he screeched. “The game has begun, boy!”

  Still, Benny stood trying to refute Herlequin’s words with inaction.

  The king’s eyes grew wide and his mouth stitched up into a rictus of fury. He bent down and put his face inches from Benny’s. “This is not how you stay on my good side, boyo,” he hissed. “Now, run! Run!”

  Fear engulfed Benny’s eleven-year-old mind. All he could see were Herlequin’s meat-eater teeth.

  “RUN!” Herlequin roared, and, in the distance, dogs howled and brayed. Resolve crumbling, Benny ran.

  2

  Matt Greshin dropped the phone into the cradle with a clatter. “Fuck!” he yelled.

  Craig stuck his head into Matt’s office. “Bad news, Chief?”

  Matt scoffed. “That was Jim. Benny’s disappeared.”

  “What?” Craig came through the doorway, holding two cups of hot coffee. “Where? When?”

  “What is this, Schoolhouse Rock?” Matt rubbed his temples. “They’re over to Cuba at the hospital. His youngest boy had a seizure after Jim almost hit a guy standing in the road.”

  “Shit,” muttered Craig, sinking into one of the chairs across from Matt’s desk. “He okay?”

  “Doctors haven’t said, yet.”

  Craig’s eyebrows twitched upward.

  “He’s still unconscious. He’s been that way all day. The ER doctor doesn’t have a clue.” Matt scoffed and waved his hand.

  “So, does Cuba PD have anything to go on? Anything on the guy in the road?”

  “They’ve got fuck-all,” grumped Matt. “No one saw the kid leave the hospital—not even Karen, who was supposed to bring the two older boys inside.”

  “That…”

  “Yeah,” sighed Matt. “It’s not like Karen Cartwright, but she was even more flustered than Jim, he said. She was in the back seat with the kid when he seized. He was yelling all kinds of nonsense.”

  “No one saw Benny? At all?” asked Craig.

  “No one saw a thing. It’s like the kid turned invisible. But woods surround that hospital on three sides so he could’ve skipped into the trees and gotten lost.”

  “With his brother in the Emergency Room?”

  “Jim said he was acting…strange in the car. Yelling at little Billy and calling him names while the kid was seizing.”

  “Well, kids can be—”

  “I know. Did you get that shell casing delivered?”

  Craig nodded. “Yeah, to the Troop E headquarters in Canandaigua. I asked them to put a rush on it, but it’s a Sunday evening, after all.”

  “Yeah,” grunted Matt. “Probably take a week.”

  “What do we do in the meantime, Chief?”

  “Keep your head on a swivel and your eyeballs peeled. We have to find this guy Fergusson. He’s not invisible, and he’s here in our backyards. Morton and Walton will do their parts in their towns.”

  “I guess I should get on over to the Motor Lodge and check if he’s staying there.”

  Matt grunted. “I doubt he’d be that stupid, but yeah, go take a look.”

  “Ten-four, Chief,” said Craig, getting up to leave.

  3

  Benny didn’t have a guess about how long he’d been running. The skin of his face bore scratches from countless low-hanging branches. His sides ached, and his breath ripped in and out so hard he’d almost forgotten how it felt to take a normal breath. Each gasping breath rasped out of his bone dry and aching throat, leaving his tongue as parched as desert sand. His feet had gone numb, like so much leaden weight at the end of his exhausted legs. Still, he stumbled on, running away from the sounds of pursuit. Running away from Herlequin and his dogs. Or wolves. Whatever they were.

  The woven canopy of the trees created an almost perfect darkness beneath their branches. So dark that Benny couldn’t see farther than ten feet away. Coming up with any kind of plan was out. He wouldn’t even be able to find a place to hide. Stumbling from one gnarled tree trunk to the next took all his concentration.

  The animals chasing him were closer. He caught glimpses of black-furred wolves running a parallel course to his own, just at the edge of his vision, keeping him running deeper and deeper into the dark forest’s heart. The trees got closer and closer together the farther into the forest’s heart he ran.

  Behind him, Herlequin laughed and screamed with delight. Every time Benny wanted to give up, the picture of Herlequin’s skull-crushers flashed through his mind, and, somehow, he found the will to keep running.

  His legs ached, his sides burned, his hot breath cracked his dry lips. His chest heaved. He had to find a place to stop, to catch his breath, to rest…but no place safe existed. No caves, no hunter’s cabins, no treehouses. He couldn’t keep running.

  His frenzied pace slowed until he was more stumbling than running. Out to his sides, the wolves growled and snarled. Fear sank its teeth into him, but try as he might, he couldn’t run anymore. He was too weak.

  When he fell, he didn’t even have the strength to bring his arms up to break his fall. He lay there, face in the thick layer of decaying leaves, panting for breath. Not wanting to see the wolves when they came for him, he closed his eyes. He trembled with fear and exhaustion, and he wished his end would be quick.

  When he awoke, he was out of the forest, but still enveloped by dark. He looked around bleary-eyed and muzzy-headed. Grass tickled his ears. He rolled to his side and sighed with relief. Somehow, he’d run all the way back to Oneka Falls. He was in his backyard, facing the sliding glass doors. He sat up slowly, fighting dizziness an
d sore muscles.

  The sliding glass door opened with its signature hiss.

  Relief coursed through him. His mom and dad were home after all! Their footsteps thudded across the back deck and creaked down the stairs. Benny smiled and forced his head up. But the figure at the bottom of the step stood hunched-over—shorter than Benny, shorter than Johnny. His heart fell, neither his mom nor his dad had come to help him. It was Billy, face and chest covered in blood.

  “Billy?” he murmured.

  “Benny, what are you doing?” asked Billy in a gruff, tremulous voice.

  “I was so exhausted, someone was chasing me through the woods and—”

  “Benny!” shouted Billy.

  “What, spaz?” asked Benny with a touch of irritation in his voice.

  “The dogs.”

  “What dogs?” Then Benny heard them, the almost inaudible steps of a pack of four-legged creatures coming out of the forest behind him. If he listened hard, their panting breath sounded like a symphony of impending death.

  Benny’s muscles locked up and his breath stuck fast inside his chest. Billy stared at something behind Benny, and his eyes were so wide they looked like quarters gleaming in the moonlight. Benny wanted to scream at him—to scream for help and to scream for Billy to get out of there—but his voice betrayed him. His pulse pounded in his ears, and the edges of his vision turned black.

  Ever so slowly, Billy raised his hand to point at the things behind Benny. “You should get up now, Benny,” he whispered.

  Terror still had a lock on his muscles, though, and Benny couldn’t get up, didn’t even think he would ever move again. When the growling started, however, Benny sprang up and ran before he realized he’d broken free of his paralysis. Pushing Billy in front of him, he ran for the sliding glass door that Billy had left open. He knew those big wolves could break through the glass if they wanted to, but he didn’t think the wolves would know that. Get inside! Get inside! Get inside get inside get inside! The thought swirled in his head, repeating like a scratched record.

  The wolves ran after them, their footfalls sounding like thunder in his ears. He pushed Billy—hard—through the open door, and Billy skidded face-first across the deep pile shag carpet his mother liked so much. Benny whirled and grabbed the door handle, ready to slam the door closed, but when he saw what chased him, his muscles locked again.