Battle Mage Chapter 7

Meet the Warlock, meet his victim.

The figure in a black hood stood in front of himself, a mirror reflection, blinking lights and an ugly public bathroom. This was his element, the slime and underground. He took off the ear buds and placed them down, for the past mile and a half he had been listening to his favorite old school music until he arrived at his destination. The noise of abandonment and bad pipes, the pure ugly and dark, he soaked it in.

As a child he would probably have feared this place, but for now, he had mastered this. A home court advantage. In his mind, his name was being chanted by untalking voices, “Ben! Ben! Ben!”

“My name is Ben,” he said, “And I am powerful.”

How powerful?

A question randomly raised itself in his head. Well, as he briefly pointed out to himself, he was in his element after all, why not prove it, see if it could be done. He looked in the mirror and saw a smile rise. It was as if he was the star of some movie and this was his big moment. The camera, it was always watching him, worshipping him.

A sily notion of nothing he never really did before, but why not let tonight be a random first, it could provide some good learning experience. Inside all this web of thoughts, affirmations, and questions, the truth lay bare. He just really wanted to do something against the law because he knew he could.

So he closed his eyes and instantly, the warlock caused the fluttering lights above his personal stall to go out altogether.

Ben loved being able to see in the dark. To him it was akin to hiding under a warm blanket of protection.

He imagined his eyes glowing, like a creature looking for prey. He wondered who would come in first. A kid and his parent? That would be an interesting situation. Would he kill the father and spare the child just to give the kid a long life of trauma? He could lock them in the public restroom with him and have hours of slow torture for both of them.

Too cruel?

Pictured rather snapping the kids neck, the eyes of the father go wide as he finished off the dad whose last thoughts would no doubt be filled with absolute horror before being sent to the afterlife.

Or, would the people who come in be local gangsters? He didn’t know this particular part of the town that well but odds were good with the graffiti that local hoodlums came here often.

What race would they be? And would they live up to their stereotypes depending on?

He would like to see how cowardly he would make them act. How hilarious it often is when those who walk with a hip swagger cry and act weak. So many humans were weak, it both disgusted and pleased him.

Ben began to picture them with weapons, a fight! Yes, that would be something. They take out their guns and knives and die with their own weapons. He was sure he could arrange that, especially with the element of surprise.

Walking sounds in the distance were coming this way!

Ben could feel his heart racing, like his greatest dream was about to be revealed to him. The anticipation made his breath stammer on itself. He couldn’t allow this kind of noise so he blanketed himself in silence. A simple trick, one of the first he paid attention to work on.

This allowed him to breathe as loud as he wanted without making a single sound. Without noticing he didn’t know just how openly he was mouth breathing, sucking up air and raising his own adrenaline.

The footsteps were quick and in succession, as Ben closed his eyes he sensed only one aura in the distance. He opened the door and peaked outside the stall. The light outside gave a slight intro to the opening of the door but would soon hit pitch black around the sink. It was a runner, someone who took pleasure in late night jogging.

A fool clearly! The neighborhood was littered with junkies and some moron thought it was safe to work out and exercise here without worry? The sheer audacity made the warlock just a little bit mad. His mindset changed from predator to endorser of Darwin. This man was doing something clearly against logic and dangerous and since he hasn’t died yet from it, he should die now. His very existence is a slap in the face of common sense.

The runner took a step in. He tried to flip the switch but the switch didn’t do much. It just made the place a little darker. So he reflipped it, and went back to the mostly dark state.

There was still the blanket of black covering the stall hiding his killer.

Ben felt inside his own coat, which blade would be the killing blow?

No. No blade, not this time. “Let’s give them something to talk about…” Ben found himself singing, as his mind went into a more bizzare plan.

The murder happened as such; the runner turned around when Ben slammed the stall door open. The two made eye contact for less than a millisecond. Ben was ten small human steps away from the runner when the door opened, however with his speed and stride, he closed the distance in two. By the third step he grabbed the runner by the face. When the toe section of his shoe touched the floor, the Runners face was thrown through the glass into the wall it covered.

The victim just stayed there, in mid air, almost floating. A second and a delay, and the corpse fell.

Nothing else needed to be done so Ben left. He made a note to himself to find out the times for the local news and what channels they are on.

He put his ear buds on, played some Temptations and was not seen by a living soul for the rest of the night.

The next morning a fax was picked up in the central office of the West News Journal. The West News Journal was the number one read newspaper in not just the city but in the entire state. Nothing came and went that did not get picked up by some random underling in that organization. They had recently tried to branch out as a multimedia tour de force but the more nationally recognized news organizations such as CNN and Fox News beat them into a stubborn submission. Thus its readership stayed pretty dedicated in the southwest states without making much splashes in the upper East Side states and cities.

The fax itself was read at once by a go-fer who ran it to a middle man who passed it to an underling. The news was not sensational as it was slightly odd and sad. Jonas Tinkerdale a college athlete was found murdered with his face planted into a part of the wall slash glass mirror.

The Chief Editor Anna walked into the room, like Citizen Kane surveying his feudal fiefdom. Everyone one went quiet.

“I want a report of all news strange and bizzare, put into one paragraph each of summary and on my desk before 9 AM. Am I understood?”

Instantly the whole room began to work like a colony of insects each with a designation and purpose for the queen. Anna flicked her tongue against her teeth, trying to get out the steak from the Steak and Egg’s she had eaten just an hour before. It didn’t work, unsatisfied, she went back to her throne of an office and closed the door behind her.

Jonas Tinkerdale, it was a bizzare name for a bizzare random act of violence, so bizzare that it soon reached her desk. Anna had always been a stickler to detail, admiring the great tales of Sherlock Holmes when she was a kid when others would focus on action. There was greater fun violence in seeing connections that others could not find than two people with a sword going at it.

She poured her coffee and read the article. She saw the photo. Something bugged her. She didn’t know what it was. Perhaps the coffee didn’t have its usual kick, she wanted to say that was it but no. The thing that didn’t add up was within the photograph and the early report.

No human could throw a man partially through a wall with that elevation.

She shook it off. She didn’t know where that voice came from but as she reiterated that random thought in her head a second time, she realized it spoke truth. She took a sip, closed the blinds and locked the door.

The lights went off and her monitor was shut. A sign soon read, “Do Not Disturb under pain of unemployment.” She liked that sign when she created it. She never fired anyone, she was hardly as strict as she pretended to be, she focused instead more on commanding and earning respect. It was her penance.

She closed her eyes and sat down. She began to talk.                      

“Jules, can you hear me?”

There was a pause, “Okay, so I see you are at the precinct, this is perfect. I am going to send you a file in person, maybe we can grab a bite for lunch if you want.”

Another pause, “Very well, I will inform Carlos, for now I say we keep a tight lid on this.”

 

Detective Lamont also known as Jules, or rather the reverse, was sitting in his sometimes work desk at his sometimes office in the police precinct. He was watching a South Park Marathon on Hulu when his partner, Detective Todd asked what he was doing.

“Oh nothing partner, just filling out silly paper work and looking up suspects.

He heard a voice a minute ago and knew Anna was on her way, he had since grabbed a file from another detective on the Tinkerdale case.

It seemed strange at first, why he would be given the task to look over a simple murder case in a public restroom in a park, in a s****y neighborhood. It was when he talked to Detective Jefforson, the man who investigated it and put it as a simple “drug related thing,” that Jules began to get a second hunch.

The blow into the mirror to cause it to go into the wall, was superhuman, that and no signs of a struggle. One man was simply catapulted straight into an unmovable object.

First instinct said vampire. But he didn’t hear of any blood draining.

Anna came walking in.

“Anna!” Jules said happily.

Detective Todd got up. “Chief Editor Davis!”

Everyone in the precinct knew of Chief Editor Anna Davis. She was in charge of the media that covered and went in depth with most of the crimes in this city that were or were not worth knowing about. As such she has become at times both hero and antagonist to the great detectives of this city, posing as the official voice to the people.

“Detective Lamont.” Anna said bluntly.

Jules smiled. “Yes?”

“The file is right here.” She passed the file onto his desk, he began to look at it. As she looked around to see if anyone was paying too close attention, she sat down on Jules’s desk and began talking. “So, where you want to meet up on lunch break.”

“I am feeling Chinese. You?”

“Had nothing but Chinese left overs for a week straight.”

“I forget you buy in bulk.”

“Carlos is going to be at the scene, he is on his way on your word.”

“How you holding up Anna?”

“About normal.”

“So I take it that today is a good day?”

“How about Lucy?”

Jules stood a moment, “She goes well, she had to cancel last night, just watched television by myself. You know how it is.”

“Carlos was too fond of canceling just to watch television.”

“Yeah but you would watch it together. Me, I usually watch alone.”

Anna smiled, “Don’t worry Detective Lamont, we will have you running enough errands this week to keep you busy.”

Detective Todd was at one moment interested but upon making eye contact with Anna, he seemed to stare into space, his mind almost blank, like two different trains of thoughts couldn’t get together. Jules noticed Anna’s stare effect. She loved doing that to anyone who seemed to love to butt in. He felt special that she used to always try it with him for practice, but it never seemed to quite work. Spells of mental natures rarely worked on Jules, it was like his gift.

“So bowling night is tomorrow?” Jules asked.

“Last I heard it was still on, no apprentices though. Strictly group.”

“Go easy on Carlos this time please.”

The note seemed to hit a cord. “Yes, you are right. It is just…”

Jules put a hand on her shoulder. “I fear you hurt him more than you wish at times. Lay off. For me.”

She patted his hand, “For you. And…Jessica said the same thing last night.”

Jules laughed, “Well Jessica does always seem to know all.”

“I must go, I have peasants I need to kill at my office.”

“Bad day at work?”

“New guy, straight from University, he thinks he knows how the world works.” She smiled and started to head off.

“I’ll contact you the usual way! I say Jamaican!”

She moved her hand to acknowledge and she seemed to disappear among the crowd of hustle and bustle.

Detective Todd seemed to snap to. “Oh sorry, spaced out there. Just must have a lot on my mind.”

“Eh?” Jules asked in response.

“It’s like being high trying to play chess.”

Detective Lamont looked unimpressed, “You played chess while high?”

That night, as the sun set, the crime scene for the most part was completely unchanged except for a missing body which had long been sent to the coroner. Detective Lamont and Todd were here on business. Or rather Jules was on Council business but since he was already inside the police working his role, it was a skip and a jump to get to the crime scene on police business.

“Do you think this has anything to do with our case?” Detective Todd was asking as they got out of the car.

“This case has a strange scent to it, that is all I can say.”

“I know your hunches compadre.”

“Do a quick makeover to make sure no one touches the scene.”

They began walking down the walkway of a park not designed for anything fun except as a crack dealers paradise.

Carlos was standing beside the “Do not cross” tape.

“Mr. Diaz.” Detective Lamont nodded.

“Detective Lamont,” Carlos giggled in reply.

Carlos instantly pointed his head towards Detective Todd. Todd instantly jumped to his police role and walked up to question this unknown man in a fancy suit. “May I have your name sir? What brings you here?”

“He is with me partner.”

Carlos simply smiled and whispered to Detective Todd, “I am no one memorable, just a dime a dozen.”

The two battle mages walked past the line as Jules told Todd to watch the perimeter. As they left into the bathroom, Detective Todd couldn’t recall any features of the man he just met, other than that he may have been Hispanic of some nature.

The bathroom was quiet, and instantly the two dropped their guises and became that of Battle Mage Jules and Carlos.

Carlos closed the door, “So, is this how it was left?”

“Did some digging and I can verify that no one unauthorized by the police has touched this scene since the body was found.”

The two sat down, “Are you ready?”

“The body was on the floor here.” Carlos pointed and a fictitious body seemed to appear.

“You are getting good at this,” Jules complimented.

“Not as good as you but then again, you always were special I guess.”

“I’ll take the compliment.”

“No cutting corners, what do you think did this?”

Jules looked at the hole in part of the wall and the frame of the mirror. “My first guess would be vampire.”

“I read the report, no blood loss, rare for a vampire to just commit murder on a human.”

“Second guess would be werewolf, but there are no claw marks, it’s too, dare I say the term, ‘clean’.”

Jules pictured the nails and fangs on a werewolf, and while the beasts were of great power and strength, with a dose of speed, the destruction was often foul and messy.

“The kill was the objective, once achieved, we have nothing, not a werewolf.”

“Demon or hell spawn?”

“Detecting no demonic aura.” Carlos was right, Jules thought. A demon lingers its evil energy like a bad expulsion of gas. Possession maybe? If the demon laid dormant in a human it might hide its trace.

Before he could speak, Carlos pointed that only one light would not turn on when he flicked the lights. Jules knew instantly what it meant, so he walked to the stall. Once inside he closed it, and when he reopened it, he saw a giant dent. It was forced open with massive force. And the light above.

“Not bad electricity, that light was specifically destroyed,” Carlos noted.

“Magic User.” Jules said.

Carlos stopped. “Can’t be. I mean, you think it’s another warlock?”

“Same warlock. I can sense the EMP pulse, it reeks just as the same EMP pulse in the Lindsay Gardner case.”

“That makes no sense. Celeb Hunter only kills celebrity. He is a serial killer, he has an MO. Why would he randomly choose this place and change his MO? This would be a waste of...”

Jules closed the stall as he went back inside.

Carlos continued, “The warlock lives for high profile kills. This is beyond non prolific. I ran a hypothetical profile to a group of college graduates. They say…” Carlos turned around only to hear a sound of the stall opening, and Jules’s palm in his face, they made eye contact as Carlos was in shock, his human side had given into fear.

“Speed, strength, dexterity, over in less than a second, you see? You would probably have survived, but a human?”

Jules summoned a fake Jules, who reenacted this, with a fake Carlos, and Carlos saw himself get slammed into the wall, the mirror breaking and the body hanging only to fall a minute after. Carlos snapped his finger and the simulated Astral Scene ended. They were back in the real world.

He was shaking that off. “So him, why?”

“Sorry I been watching a lot of Criminal Minds lately, but the best way to put it I would guess, is…The Un-sub is gaining confidence.”

“Really, you gonna hit me with Criminal Minds?”

“Better than that Criminal Intent s**t you watch!”

“Hey, we can both agree Law and Order classic is the best.”

“Okay agreed, but my statement stands. This was him acting outside his comfort zone, a murder for the sake of murder, it’s audacious, unplanned and public.”

“Jules, you know what this means?”

Jules tilted his head, “No. Not really.”

“It means, Jules, that he is not just gaining confidence in his ability to kill, he is confident in his strength. His next move, I feel it. It’s going to happen soon, and he will keep getting stronger.”

“How can you be so sure?”

At once Carlos’s body went strict, and his eyes closed only to reopen a second later. “Because my dear Jules, his next move, will be tonight.”

The battle mage stood in horror, for he knew, that was not Carlos’s voice.

Author's Note

The problems are going to keep piling up at this point, for anyone reading and paying attention, I hold it to you to make sure the book does not get too jumbled and convoluted, but for now, lets keep this pace going. Any feedback and criticism is welcomed.