Hell in Ipsi: Part two

Derrick Cane





Derrick Cane sat in the back of the bar, feeling like a God. It had been two weeks since the battle in the old plating factory, and he felt great. The stone, the black crystal he had taken from the mage during the fight had made him heal fast, even for one of his kind. He had no idea what it was, but he knew power when he felt it. It increased his physical strength and speed tremendously, but Derrick could feel that it could do much more; he just had to find out what and how. As Derrick thought it over, he observed three young men enter the bar, nod to the bartender, then head straight for him. Just as they reached his table, the three angled into a corner and knock on a door that was covered with a giant miller beer poster showing a sexy model enjoying the ice-cold beverage. The door was almost unnoticeable if you didn’t know it was there. Derrick recognized the young men as members of a gang that pressed local business owners for “protection” money, even though the only people that protection was needed from where them. They also did a good business on the streets dealing drugs too. So this was the gang’s hideout. A thought hit Derrick suddenly. A gang. Being a single entity in that battle had almost gotten him killed. The magic-users would want to find anything that could kill one, let alone two of their own, and whatever the stone was would bring them running, not to mention whatever that other thing was that had killed the witch seemed to be there for the stone also. Maybe it was time he did some recruiting. Derrick smiled, motioned to a barmaid for another beer and settled in to wait for the bar to clear, he wanted a word with the gang, the waiting staff, and the bartender. Things were about to change around here.







Detective Born





Detective Born just didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t sleep at all now, and he couldn’t go back to work. He remembered only fragments of what had happened at the old zinc plating plant, but he did remember shooting some kid in the back, and some kind of monster coming at him. He had called off work sighting health problems, since he had some time coming, and begged Tab not to push the issue. Which wasn’t far from the truth, since he was experiencing bouts of memory loss, a off again on again fever, and the creepy feeling someone was watching him over his shoulder all the time. He still felt he had something to do, someone to find, someone to answer the questions he had; why had he been at the plant? Who had he shot? Why? What did Daisy Holcomb have to do with this? Born glanced around his cheap hotel room, noticing the empty pizza boxes, the McDonald’s wrappers, and empty Jack Daniels bottles. Born Knew what he had to do. The only way he could find the answers was in his official capacity as an officer of the law. He would have to straighten up, return to work, and face Tab. As he made up his mind, and his conviction solidified, flashes of that dreadful night hit him so hard he fell backwards out of the chair he had been sitting in. He couldn’t move, he just lay there amid the dirty clothes and Taco Bell wrappers. After a few moments, Born began regain control of his movements. He rose to his knees and climbed back into the chair. Something seemed to slide over his vision for a second, then slide away. Born grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels that wasn’t empty and slammed the burning liquid down his throat. Things were worse than he had thought. The flashes of memory had shown him much. If they were right, Daisy was dead, which he felt bad about but not as bad as the fact that she had been a Witch, or that she had had him under a spell. A spell under which he would do whatever she wished him to do. Including kill. He also believed he was possessed by some kind of demon or something. Born listened to his own thoughts and realized how crazy it all sounded, all the more because he knew it to be true. And Born didn’t know what to do about it or even whom to ask. Oh, and don’t forget, Born thought to himself, there is a Werewolf loose in Ipsi too. Born reached for the bottle again. He paused just short of taking the drink. Werewolf. They were only monsters part of the time, right? The rest of the time, they were humans, just like the rest of us. And wouldn’t he have knowledge of supernatural things? Like where to find a Witch, who could remove a spell, or exorcise a demon. Born smiled. He had a start. Time to go back to work.





M’vilitz

M’vilitz released control of Born and rested. This human was a problem. More than once he had almost slipped from M’vilitz’s control, which could forcibly remove M’vilitz from the host body if he wasn’t careful. This human was an authority figure, though that hadn’t helped him against the powerful female that had controlled him in the fight. M’vilitz guessed that different powers were at work, his innate powers being different, but not necessarily stronger, than the powers some of the humans, like the fat strangely dressed one he had defeated, had used. This worried M’vilitz. There could be some more powerful than he, and this could be a problem. He needed the stone, and quickly, before a more powerful being found it. As an authority figure, this Born human had access to many ways of finding the snarling beast that had taken the stone during the battle, but M’vilitz didn’t think he could hold on to Born long enough to find the thing. Every time Born made up his mind to do something, his resolve was so strong he almost broke M’vilitz’s hold on him, and if he hadn’t been ready for Born’s revelation on finding the wolf-thing, he would have lost Born then. Maybe another, weaker member of this “ force” Born was part of would make a better host. M’vilitz watched as Born’s thought patterns formed and realized he was glad Born had no significant powers to speak of, or this would be one dangerous foe. M’vilitz smiled inwardly as a plan of his own began to form. Let Detective Born do all the foot work, finding the were-thing, and M’vilitz would watch from a safe distance until the time was right. He would have to kill the creature when Born found it, just for keeping the stone from him, but also because once touched, the stone became a needed thing, no one would give it up freely. M’vilitz felt time was getting short, because as long as the creature had the stone, the stronger it would get, and M’vilitz could feel other powers bending they’re wills towards the small town of Ipsilanti. The Hunt was on.





The covenant



They arrived at the same Hotel that Johnson Long had occupied during his short stay. They took the same suite. Anyone else looking like they looked, arriving the way they did, would have caused people to stare and point and whisper. No one saw the stretch Benz limo pull up to the Hotel front, not even the doorman standing there for that express purpose, it was just suddenly there. After realizing that he was just staring, the doorman rushed over to open the door, and again found himself staring as he was cut off from the car door by the sudden appearance of a man the size of a building. The man had to be six foot five if he was an inch, and weighed over three hundred pounds, all of which was muscle, including the muscle covering his muscles. He had long black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, dark shades on, and the largest Armani suit ever sewn incased him like armor. Along with a face made of stone, it all made for a scary sight, except no one appeared to really see this. Stone-face moved the doorman out of the way with the sheer force of his presence, reached down, and opened the door. Three women exited the Benz. Power suits of all black, with the skirts extra short, and the heels extra high, were wrapped around bodies that Playboy would love to photo. Hair any woman would envy hung down their backs, one brunette and the other two blond. But it was the faces that where the most stunning. While beautiful at first glance, a close study would show agelessness, a well preservedness that nature or good cosmetics could never be responsible for. They looked as if the world was their’s and everyone else was an insect waiting it’s time to be stepped on. But no one noticed it, it was as if anyone looking directly at them always had their vision slid slightly to one side or another and then the sight was forgotten. People they dealt with directly held them in awe until they were dismissed, then they too, forgot about the strange encounter. Upon entering the suite, the Brunette haired woman gestured to the two blonds, who went to work casting protective spells all over the suite and connecting rooms while she dispelled the Dim spell that had kept them from being noticed. She then gestured to Shane, the man-mountain, and he went to stand guard at the door, though these women probably needed a bodyguard like a fat kid needs cake. The brunette, Tala by name, was as irritated as could be. She was too high ranking in the council to be sent off to this shit-hole town like some second rate detective because one of the high covenants pets and a third rate under- covenant had gotten themselves killed. True, the death of four of their kind had to be looked into, but it wasn’t as if it hadn’t happened before. Plenty of witches and wizards killed themselves in the race for Satan’s praises, what is a few more to her? At least they had given her a competent crew. Marla, the elder of the two, but still a century or so behind Tala, was a seasoned pro, destined to be on the council one day, if not the high covenant. Tabitha was even younger and less powerful than Marla, yet still stronger than most her age, a mere one hundred and fifty, and she took orders well. She would mop this problem up, then get back to the council and deal with those that had voted to send her instead of some lesser witch. And after that, she would continue her work to become head of the council, which lead to a seat on the High Covenant. Tala took a seat in a comfortable chair and called to Tabitha for a glass of wine. She would rule one day. But first, she would handle Ipsilanti.



Father Aronn Cross



The bus eased into the proper spot in the Ipsilanti bus terminal, people began unloading themselves, and they’re luggage. Father Aronn Cross was the last to get off the bus. He had refused the offer of a ride from the terminal, choosing instead to walk to the First Sunday C.O.G.I.C (church of God in Christ), a mere five blocks from the terminal, so he could get a feel for the city, smell it’s smells and see its sights. He also loved the way people reacted when they saw the Collar. People stumbled over themselves and called him everything from Father to Rabbi when apologizing for what they thought he would consider inappropriate behavior. He would just smile and nod his head and keep moving before someone asked him to pray with them. That had happened more than once, and Father Cross was not good at it. He looked around, got his bearings, hoisted the lone duffle bag he carried, and headed off to the church. On his way there he past at least two people that he could mark as werewolves by the smell and look of them. There was definitely something going on in this city, and he would find out what it was. A message had come through channels from a retired Knight living in Ipsilanti that strange things were afoot there, and strange powers had been felt in use. Had such a vague message come from anyone but the great Father Roe, not much would have been made of it at all. But since it did come from the famed Father, action was taken. After all, that’s what the Knighthood had been invented for wasn’t it? Who else was smiting evil and defending mankind against Satan’s minions? The network of the Knighthood was large, spread all over the world. And Aronn Cross was its premiere Knight. Aronn smiled to himself, thinking of the movie with Will Smith in it, the one where he chases the aliens. A noble but thankless job that must be done. That’s how the Knighthood was. Dangerous, thankless, noble, and absolutely necessary. And Aronn Cross was dedicated and sworn. Hell spawn beware.







Cross arrived at his destination fifteen minutes later, and was greeted by Father Brian Roe, a short but powerfully built black man of sixty. Cross bowed deeply in respect to the Knighthood’s retired legend. Roe smiled and led Cross into the churches basement, past the luncheon area where free food was prepared and served on Tuesdays, past the rooms full of clothes that the church gathered and distributed to the needy on Thursdays, to a small closet way back past the toilet. Inside the closet, Roe worked the secret locks and a hidden door opened on a downward spiraling staircase. Down went Roe, and Cross followed, going down at least two stories before the stairs ended and a dimly lit hallway began. They stopped as Roe came to a wooden door like the ones you see in the movies that lead down into a dungeon, a heavy plank wood door iron banded and hinged. Roe pushed the door open, which opened without a squeak, and stepped aside for Cross.

“I’ll let you get settled, and catch a few hours of rest.” Said Roe. “I take it you are going out tonight?” Cross just smiled and nodded. Roe gestured him in, and with a pat on the back wished him luck and went back up the stairs. Cross entered the room and closed the door. He glanced around the room, seeing pretty much what he thought he would see. A bed, well made and clean. A table, small wooden, complete with a matching chair and a bag of McDonald’s on it. A longer table at the end of the room with everything he would need for his outings. Cross put his bag on the bed and walked over to the long table. Knives and swords of all kinds glittered in the light, their silver blades seeming to triple the light they reflected. Cross smiled at them. Useful. But a little out of date. He moved on down the table to the more recent weapons. He picked up a browning nine millimeter, ejected the clip, and looked at the bullets, actually capsules filled with silver nitrate, an idea stolen from the movies but one that had proven to work just fine. Pistol-grip pump action shotguns loaded with super slugs with a cross cut into them caught his eye. Throwing stars made of silver and wrought with religious symbols of all kinds offered themselves for use. Vials of holy water, wooden stakes, and battle-axes galore adorned the wall and shelves over the table. Cross nodded grimly. Tools of the trade. He would need them. Cross went back to the bed and lay down, he would need his rest, it would be a busy night.



Tabanski

Tabanski watched Born closely as Born told him what had happened that night in the plating plant. He told Tab about the hair he had stolen from the evidence locker for Daisy, he told about shooting the young drug dealer Smoke, who wasn’t really a human, and he told Tab about the notion he had of not being alone in his head. Detective Tabanski had ten years experience on the streets separating the truth from bullshit, and he would be damned if he could call the man a liar. But this was really hard to swallow. At the least, Born had suddenly gone mad, at the worst he at least thought he was telling the truth, and he wanted Tab to believe it too. Tab cleared his throat, not believing what he was about to say.

“Look partner, this all sounds crazy as hell, and by rights I should cuff you, stuff you, and run to Internal affairs,” said Tab, “ but I know you, and I trust my gut. We will go about this like a regular investigation, and I’ll give you 48 hours to prove some of this to me, or I gotta take you in, for my good as well as yours.”

Born stared at his partner, his friend. The relief he felt was like a ton of bricks lifted from his shoulders. Born wiped his hands and mouth stood and extended his right hand.

“Deal. Let’s start at the battle scene.”



The second Battle



Tala glanced around the deserted plant. She could see more than just old bloodstains and scorched walls. Magical emanations that only a practitioner of magic could see were all over the scene. She nodded to Tabitha, and the younger witch went off to set warding and warning spells all about the plant. Shane and Marla stood by ready to assist Tala should she need. Tala smiled inwardly at the thought of her needing help. She closed her eyes and released the magic within her. A mist gathered and the dock area got dark. The mist got thicker, an eerie green light began to show through the mist, and images began flickering in and out of sight. Tala adjusted her thought, and like a television when the antenna is corrected, the image snapped into a clear picture. Tala and her crew watched as the battle between witch, wizard, werewolf, alien and human played out in front of them. The werewolf worried them, the witch and wizard amused them, the humans bored them, but the alien greatly troubled them. It was clear the creature was powerful enough to be a problem. And the stone that Johnson Long had lost to the werewolf was way too powerful to be in any hands but those of a seasoned witch. Tala knew just the right witch. There were only three pieces of xithra known to exist on Earth, and the origins and full powers of them were known to only a few. Tala had studied and tracked the stones for three hundred years. She hadn’t known the location of all three stones, and the one she did know of hung around the neck of the most powerful witch in the world. Its history was guarded closely, and of it even some of those with knowledge of the stone’s existence didn’t know where they were from. Tala knew. And Satan be praised she would make the Dark Prince happy when she wielded the power of one of those stones. As Tala watched the scene unfold, the human police officer was taken over by the alien creature and planting a bullet into Daisy Holcomb’s brain. Just as the werewolf snatched the stone and made its escape, the warding spells set in place by Tabitha informed them that they were not alone.



Born and Tab entered the plant and made their way to the shipping dock, where born re-enacted the battle scene to the best of his memory.

“So you’re telling me witches and werewolves and demons are real. And we gotta find the wolf to solve these murders just so we don’t get put in straight jackets for bringin the damn case forward in the first place.” Said Tab.

“ Yes.” Said Born dejectedly. “But how does one hunt down a werewolf?”

“ Live bait.” Said a female voice from behind the cops. Both cops turned and drew they’re weapons in smooth practiced motions. Tab aimed at the monstrous man in the suit that stood next to the three gorgeous women that Born was covering.

“And the thing in your head is not a demon.” Said the Dark haired woman. “ It’s an alien.” She finished.

“ Place your hands behind your heads and get on your knees, now! “ shouted Tab. All three women leveled they’re gazes at Tab, and the feeling he got when things were about to go bad hit him in the gut, hard.

Marla looked to Shane, pointed at Tab and said, “He is not needed.” Shane took a step towards Tab, and Tab began to warn him for the last time to get on his knees and interlock his fingers behind his head. But Shane moved fast. Too fast. Nothing that big should be able to move that fast. Nothing should be able to move that fast. Before tab could even shoot, the giant man closed one of his huge mitts around Tabs gun hand and squeezed. Tab’s hand went numb, and then he was hurled across the dock to go bouncing across the floor. How he held on to the gun was a mystery. Born came to his partner’s aid, firing a single shot at the big man. Shane took the bullet in the shoulder, winced slightly, then used that incredible speed to reach Born and deliver an uppercut that sent born four inches off the ground and five feet backwards. Born landed hard and saw stars as he tried to recover before the next attack. Two more shots echoed through the building as Tab rejoined the fight. Both shots slammed into Shane’s back, but it seemed the big man shook them off and turned his attention back to Tab, but Tab was ready. With expert precision, Tab placed two more shots into Shane, one in each eye. As Shane stumbled backwards, Born, back on his feet with a bloody face, put his gun to his enemies head and fired, spraying blood and brains all over the three women that watched. Tab told them to get down on the ground and put their hands behind their heads again, but they didn’t listen. Born repeated what Tab said, and as he did, the younger blonde whispered something then hurled a fireball at Born’s head. Born dodged, and Tab fired. Tabitha sunk to the floor, a red hole in the center of her forehead. It got deathly quiet suddenly, and Born knew they were in trouble. A sound like rushing wind filled the room, a fierce red light pulsed and grew in the dock area. It was coming from Tala. Her hair fanned out as if she was in a windstorm, and she rose from the floor, infused with power.

“See! “Said Born, “a witch!”

“Son of a bitch,” said Tab wonderingly. Tala let her power go. The pulsing red light became an eye-searing blare, and a mental force of power hit Tab and Born. At the coming of Tala’s power, M’vilitz took over. AS she attacked, M’vilitz when on the defensive. He felt the power behind this woman and knew she was not to be underestimated. He knew this would be a strike of some magnitude, so he shielded Born as best he could. Too late, he remembered Tab. Marla also knew what was coming, and she did her dutiful role to assist Tala. With a coolness to be admired, she cast a Mirror Image spell, creating five duplicate images apiece of her and Tala, giving their enemies a dozen different targets to strike at. Suddenly M’vilitz was surrounded by a dozen different targets. He tried to find the real Tala, but she attacked. A mind numbing psionic blast hit him and Tab, the force so strong it moved M’vilitz backwards on his heels, and he had to concentrate on holding the shield in place so his mind wouldn’t be fried. As the waves of pressure rolled over him, M’vilitz realized that there were powers on this planet that rivaled his own. He would have to strike quick, and hope to hit one of them on the first attack. He was grudgingly impressed by this show of force. Gradually, the waves of the mental attack subsided enough for M’vilitz to take note of his surroundings, and he found the witches gone, along with the bodies of the big man and the witch Tab had capped off. Tab. M’vilitz felt Born’s concern for his friend and went to check on him. M’vilitz receded and let Born take over, leaving his memories fully intact for the moment. Born stumbled over to Tab, who lay in a heap near the back wall. He had a pulse, and his eyes were open, staring blankly at nothing. Born shook him, called out his name, but got no response. Born cradled his partner in his arms, crying profusely as he tried to snap Tab out of it. He slapped him. Twice. Hard. Still no response. Born lost it. He rampaged around the shipping dock and threatened to kill all witches. He blamed everyone from God to the Muppets for this happening. Then he collapsed to the ground and sobbed unashamedly. He knew who was really to blame. Himself. He had gotten Tab into this, and there was no way to bring Tab back. His mind had been wiped clean. The lights were on, but no one was home. And Born couldn’t find those bitches and exact revenge.