Beyond the ocean dark, United Arcan was grappling for that same last light until night settled upon the nation. Cheery voices of children faded as they hurried home for supper like any other day. Streets were thrown into shadow as usual with only a few streetlamps thrusting golden light upon the roads. The sky held no stars and instead were filled with clouds holding a secret rain that would soon catch residents off guard. Only a tattletale heaviness of moisture gave it away to any who were paying attention.
This particular night meant many things to many different people here in U.A. To some, it was just another night home from work, or just another fight with the spouse, or just another scolding to a child who wouldn't eat their vegetables.
For others, like Mallord Beagle, it was filled with a strange apprehension visiting the Fox Sisters and wondering what words they had to say. He could not leave home yesterday which was the initial meeting day. Little Rose had caught cold, and he had to stay home to take care of her while his wife went out to work in the textile factory.
When he had called the Fox Sisters last night, Belinda had answered, and she had been thrilled and understanding. She told him to come the next night if he could spare a few hours. He could.
"Off to where, dear?" his wife had asked him before he could leave.
"Just need to get out of the house for some fresh air." He lied.
"In this cold?" Penelope frowned. Despite it was April, it was still quite cold outside and Mallord wasn't wearing much of anything. Just a thin jacket.
"Just for a bit. I'll be quiet."
She granted him his outing with a curt nod. Penelope wasn't a stupid woman. She was smart. As she pursed her lips, Mallord mirrored her expression. They both knew she had an inkling, but they also knew the topic would not be discussed until Rose was better. Mallord could only hope she would forget about it and never bring it up.
* * *
An hour later, Mallord was standing under lamp light, waiting behind two depressed faces, sunken cheeks, and hopeful hearts. There were two people still lined up outside the Fox Sisters' residence in Lupine, Tokencut State where they held their séances. He read over the letter again as he waited.
Finally, after a thirty-minute wait, it was his turn.
"Ah, Mr. Beagle, apologies for wait," Belinda stood from her séance table, "do sit. We have not much time." Her long black hairstyle and pale face was identical to her sister Adelina who stood beside her. Seeing the two so alike was almost disturbing. The biggest difference was, however, one of Belinda's eyes was a piercing blue.
"You are here to lend powers," Belinda said in a quiet voice, "tonight, are you prepared? We must begin at once."
She gave a knowing glance to her sister and continued, "You must understand also, you must not break circle."
Mallord nodded. "Whatever might happen in the next few hours, right now, my mind is made up."
Belinda gave a solemn nod. Her sister took a seat beside her. Tensions rippled through the air. Belinda closed her eyes. Then, she held out her hand across the table. Mallord took her warm hand, and then he wrapped his hand around Adelina's cold fingers.
"Whatever happens," Belinda said in a voice that seemed to echo all around him, "must not break circle."
"I understand," Mallord said with a nod and closed his eyes. He had been to séances before and knew how they were done, but deep within him, he could already feel this was different. The Fox Sisters were not frauds. At least, not Belinda.
Once the sisters held hands, the air shifted. A thin gray veil like a sheet draped over them. Mallord could feel something within him creek as if it were working on rusted hinges that needed oiling.
And then it began. Their souls left their bodies in a gust of wind. Through the roof the house, up to the sky, and none of them had time to gaze upon the beauty of the world littered with white glowing souls. Their bodies were thrust into an empty gray room. It was a place Mallord recognized. A memory locked up tight with his time in Lwendolen thirty years ago resurfaced. He could almost see a giant of a man calling for girl named Valerie.
"Richard," Belinda whispered and Mallord shook his head in the waking world to focus on the task ahead. He and the two Fox Sisters searched the gray, the in between of life and death for the soul of the man that plagued by a demon. Where was he? Could he still be saved from answering to the heinous orders of a demon, or were they all too late?
"Call with me," Belinda said to Mallord.
"Richard," he said, finding the feel of that name all too familiar on his tongue. He knew of a man with that name, but that was thirty years ago and the one they were looking for was young, according to Belinda.
Deep down inside his beating heart, Mallord knew something was not right. "Richard," he said, feeling a shiver tremor through his soul and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.
* * *
Back in the waking world, in Tupper, Penwood State, Richard doubled over in the middle of sneezing six times on his way back from Rushford Candy Shop. He guessed someone was talking about him. It was a popular Naibonese saying. Once he recovered, someone said, "Bless you, Charlie!" to which he tipped his hat. Then with the façade of Charles Reuben Rushford, he greeted anyone he passed with a pleasant smile and a 'Have a good evening!' in a cheery voice that he didn't have to fake.
The deed he planned was done. He was immensely satisfied and brimming with pride. The Red Circle did well. All his assassins were top class thanks to him. They were almost unrecognizable from the killings they did in Lwendolen. There was once a time when the Red Circle, under command of Richard, painted bloody circles on whatever victims they could get their hands on. Left and right they killed in Lwendolen, stole money, and paid the poor. Then, after nearly a decade of heinous acts, they packed in 1827, leaving the country for good.
Richard deemed Lwendolen a 'fallen failure of fikking foolery'. The people he saw as filthy gray clouds would not go away no matter how much cleansing he did. Some places just weren't meant to be saved, so he would just move on. U.A. was his next victim, or, in his terms, 'the next cleansing project'.
The bells of eight o'clock rang out, so he quickened his pace and slipped into the bakery just before closing. He picked out a few breads for himself. Something nice for some good celebration.
"Will that be all, Charlie?" the baker gave him a cheeky smile. Richard glanced around at all the golden and brown breads and eyed some with sprinkles of sugar on it.
"I'll take that, too." He pointed to one with powdered sugar on top. Richard was thinking Anastasia might like something nice instead of all the normal sourdough he had been giving her with simple slices of cheese. She had recovered from the lesser demon leaving her body and unbeknownst to her, thanks to Charcoal, she would remember nothing of it.
The baker chuckled making his rosy cheeks rosier. "Ever the sweet tooth, Charlie!" He smiled. "I'll put one more in for service, if uh..." He leaned it and gave a gap-toothed grin, "you give s'more of that good peppermint candy and uh—"
"Danny!" Came the thundering shriek of his wife and he flinched. "Don't you go bribing Charlie now! The doc said you gotta take it easy on the sweets!"
"Yeah, yeah, Aggie!" He called back and stood still, listening to the sound of her footsteps going away. Then he slipped the extra sugar bread in and winked at Charlie, took the money, and sent him off on his way before his wife could take notice of the bribe.
Back out on the streets, Richard almost wanted to skip down the road with joy. His good day just became better because Danny and his wife weren't consumed in dusty clouds. It was not a good thing to end the day on such a nauseating note. Richard always expected more from a good day than that.
He was in such a good mood he began to hum. Since no one was around, he began to sing quietly under his breath. Richard was a man of too many talents. Everything he learned to do at some point in his century-long life. Skills from past lives carried on.
"Stop singing, please," Charcoal hissed in his ear.
Richard was not a good singer. None of his past lives ever learned the art.
"You ruined my day," Richard said with a loud, annoyed sigh as he reached the door to his house. He stiffened. A presence hung over the vicinity like a trap.
"Tovmeyidnann?" Charcoal called out to the stables.
A shadow shaped like a boy came out from behind a stack of hay. "It's the mediums. And one more, I can't read it."
"Imbeciles," Richard remarked.
Crickets sung and a few crows cawed overhead. Richard's shadow rippled and Charcoal emerged with a low chuckle. Man and demon were not afraid. Not even disturbed. They were just highly amused.
Richard unlocked the door. Tommy-and-Anna as a little boy closed the door behind. Tommy-and-Anna only came because this sort of excitement was a rare occasion. It doubted the mediums would do anything today. The feeling it got was nothing hostile, just searching.
Both Richard and Charcoal were getting the same sense. Before the stairs stood a woman, transparent most of her body. She was tall and slim, almost bony, covered in a long black cloak with purple vines embroidered in intricate patterns. Her long black hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, partially hiding one black eye with the other a piercing blue. One might say she was hauntingly beautiful.
"Ah, I see you." Her voice resonated in his mind though she didn't open her mouth. The room around him blurred until she was the only thing he could see clearly. Such theatrics were nothing to him. He walked to where the dining table was and set the bread on top of the table when neither bread bag nor table could he see.
"I was expecting you, Belinda Fox. Or is it Adelina?" He turned to the woman, speaking to her as if she were really there. Charcoal crept up to her, checking, feeling for any guarding spirits.
"Richard, demon makes you speak. I can save you from demon which consumes your soul. You will suffer no longer. I will return once preparations have been made. We will meet again." The woman who didn't identify as either Belinda or Adelina, disappeared. In that moment, Richard noticed a third person, but he couldn't make out who it was. Before long, the room was back to normal again.
"Coward!" Tommy-and-Anna shouted at the air where she had stood. "Coward, the wench."
"Lesser angels," Charcoal said with a grin, "easy to kill."
At those words, Richard licked his lips. The Fox Sisters had not appeared in his visions, but sometimes it was okay to derail from his destiny. It was much too tempting not to kill them.
Usually, mediums had angels guarding their souls to keep them away from any horrible spirits. Such angels were a delightful treat. Richard look at Charcoal and the two shared a sinister grin and a malicious chuckle. It was time for a fox hunt.
"Tomorrow?" Charcoal said and melted into Richard's shadow.
"No, Friday." Richard called down Anastasia—who was unaware of what had just gone on—and gave her the sweet bread and sent her back upstairs to her room. Once she was gone, a vision flickered in front of him showing her eventual escape from his house. It seemed like that day was coming sooner than anticipated, but no clue was given to him how that would affect him finding Mallord.
"Oh, I get it!" Charcoal shouted, finally catching on to why it was Friday. "The thirteenth!"
"Shut up, C. You want to have her pass out when she sees your gruesome face? Stop calling attention to yourself and make this more complicated than it already is."
Charcoal emerged and recoiled. "Ouch, you hurt my heart."
Richard sniffed in disdain. "You don't even have a heart." Then, in whispers they bickered.
* * * * *
Anastasia, in her room, licked the sugar off her fingers and drank some water while contemplating how she would make her escape. She had been here long enough to regain her strength, and now it was time to be on her way whether Richard liked it or not.
This early morning, she had by chance, overheard Richard being Charles on the phone. He was talking about a Roktion ship making a stop at Little Bear up in the state of Aimland. If finding the detective wasn't going to work out, she would start the search herself. Her stubborn mind fueled with newfound energy after weeks of rest. She was ready now.
As she lay back in her bed and closed her eyes, her mind was flooded with whispers of a woman's voice and men chanting, "Naitumari, Naitumari."
"Naitumari," Anastasia whispered, feeling a bitter familiarity on her tongue. An image of a woman hidden in the hood of a cloak came to mind, but Anastasia didn't recognize her.
* * *
Mallord's, Belinda's, and Adelina's souls floated back inside their bodies. They all opened their eyes at the same time. At Belinda's call, they broke the circle.
"That was him," Mallord said and told of an evil man he met long ago. A man that should have aged and be well in his fifties. But this time, Richard had with him a coiling black serpentine creature with rows of pointed teeth and curved horns.
"That was demon. Controls Richard. Makes him speak. In many lives, it has killed." Belinda whispered, shaking her head. "There will be more. Demon never full. Everyone in danger."
"Many lives?" Mallord asked.
"Yes. Just as he has in Lwendolen. Many." Belinda went quiet. She reached in her cloak and pressed fifty dallen into his hands.
"Come tomorrow. We must have another connection." she said, "Please. Your power of angelic protection, strong. Need for saving Richard. You share power with Adelina. She can hold for me. When demon must be sent back, you don't need to be here for children sake. Dangerous it will be. Just come and share angelic power. I know how you can."
Mallord tightened his lips, staring down at the money. He had promised Penelope to not get involved in a case. But he would regret not helping them and what if they died because he said 'no'? It would be his fault he didn't connect with them to share his apparently strong powers. It would be just like the time he refused to help Chief Constable Stephen Bailey with a case. Stephen died shot by the man he was after. If only Mallord had been there. The guilt he felt then, plagued him now again.
With a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Alright," He stood and slid the money across the table, "but not for this."
As the Fox Sisters breathed an obvious sigh of relief, Mallord gave a stiff smile. He didn't like lying to Penelope and could only hope she wouldn't ask why he would go out at odd hours.
"We will do on Sunday," Belinda began with excitement in her voice, "good spirits on that day. Protect us, they will. Come tomorrow, same time." She smiled.
After leaving their place, Mallord took the longer way home, taking an extra ten minutes. His mind was racing, and his heart was beating fast with nerves. Richard was the man he saw in Lwendolen thirty years ago. The true culprit behind the many gruesome deaths. The one in charge of the notorious Red Circle.
But Mallord convinced himself that the Red Circle was dead. He'd shut it down before retiring his detective job, the last thing he ever did for Lwendolen. Most, if not all members were captured and sentenced to death. The Red Circle was a thing of the past. A topic of morbid curiosity. A freak show tale to shock guests or a ghost story told by candlelight in the hush of the night.
Unbeknownst to him, the Red Circle was alive and it's boss was preparing a fox hunt on Friday the thirteenth. Richard was the tiger stalking through the fields of Parajan, studying his timid prey and waiting for the right moment to pounce. The ones who hunted him were the gunmen who believed the tiger was weak and hungry, and not strong enough to defend itself.
How wrong they were! The tiger's bloody hunt had only just begun.
===========
Note from Author:
True story, in April, 1855, U.S.A, there was a Friday the thirteenth. Do you believe Friday the thirteenth is bad luck or do you believe in any other superstitions? Comment here =>
Another country that appears a lot here is Parajan. Can you guess what the real-world equivalent is? ;) Comment here =>