THE NICK OF TIME (and a slight revision)

Those of you following along with my work may notice that I have had a few setbacks while working on Route d'abbaye.

I think I figured out that the problem is that the term DEMON OF MERCY in track seven should have been DEMON OF IF.

Once I found that everything started to fall into place again.

 

Track One- Come Together

Track Two- Something

Track Three- Maxwell's Silver Hammer

Track Four- Oh! Darling

Track Five- Octopus's Garden

Track Six- I Want You (She's So Heavy)

Track Seven- Here Comes The Sun

Track Eight- Because

 

A new installment should be posted this Friday... thanks for your patience...

Tales of paranormal romance for people that couldn't get laid in high school!

 

Everything you know is wrong- there are plenty of gods but no afterlife, wizards plot rebellion against eldritch horrors with marketing departments, the Chinese Mafia runs the phone company, every tarot card is a prophesy waiting to happen and most vampires live in trailer parks. Read on to visit a world where every cliche is a parable, every fairy tale is bad advice and every dream leaves a ghost in its wake...

 

Why not listen to the suggested soundtrack on 8 TRACKS?

 

 

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Art by Chris Scheetz, Wayne Anderson, George Vasilakos, Ryan Dunlavey and Vanessa Lee

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions): Breaking The Girl

The Nick Of Time

(and other abrasions)

Breaking The Girl

by

Al Bruno III

She stirred groggily; her head was aching, she was tied to a chair, lengths of soggy rope bit into her wrists and ankles. And to think, just a few hours ago Jason Magwier had been chiding her with, “Come now my dear, what could possibly go wrong?”

Lorelei had been in worse situations than this. Hell her 16th birthday party had ended up looking like the last scene of Hamlet, so she just kept calm and didn't open her eyes or raise her head until she heard the click of boot heels on the stone floor. She looked up and spat an incantation-nothing too fancy, just something that would knock your average sized man off his feet.

Pain roared through her skull, the incantation became nothing but gibberish.

A familiar voice said, “Might wanna think about that again sugar-pie.”

Slowly opening her eyes Lorelei saw a hand mirror being held inches from her nose, arcane symbols had been painted on her forehead. She recognized them as Sigils of Enfeeblement and as long as they were there the most magical thing she was going to manage was a few card tricks.

Lorelei looked past the mirror to the grinning face behind it, to the red leather jacket, sunglasses and snakeskin boots. She knew this man all too well with his capped teeth, overdone hair and half-baked fashion sense. When she spoke his name her voice was full of contempt, “Jack Diamond.”

“Lorelei Miller.”

There was a table to his right, it had everything an uncreative torturer might need-things that were sharp, things that were blunt, things that gleamed and things that seemed to have been designed for no other reason that cruelty. Lorelei pulled halfheartedly at her bindings, “I suppose saying that you better let me go or you'll be sorry isn't going to gain much traction?”

“You always were a smart girl,” he made a show of drawing closer to her, looming over her, “now let's see if you're smart enough to know when to save that finely formed ass.”

“I'm not telling you anyth-AHHHHHHH!!”

Her every muscle locked, Jack Diamond pressed the taser into the flesh of her neck for what seemed like forever. When he finished he said, “You might want to reconsider that.”

Everything hurt, she felt faint and nauseous, “Do you really....do you really think we're going to give you back the Maker of Moons?”

“I know your boyfriend has it, I want to know where it is and what he’s up to.”

“He never tells me anything. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“Then where is he?” her tormentor scanned the bleak little room, “I don't see him here? Do you?”

“Torture and sarcasm?” she sneered, “However will I resist?”

Jack Diamond shook his head and dropped the taser onto his little workbench, “You really are something.”

The punch was so telegraphed that he could have sent it by Western Union, it gave Lorelei enough time to lower her face and catch the blow on the temple. While light flashed before her eyes, she shouted just to make sure he could hear her over the ringing in her head, “Untie me and I'll show you something.”

The next punch was to her stomach, the air whooshed out of her lungs. He said to her, “You know I was going to use my toys on you but I have to say this is very satisfying,” he punched her twice more in the head, “after all the times you and your compadres have screwed with me, this is very satisfying indeed.”

“...fucking...” she whispered, “...amateur...”

Another rain of blows, so many she lost count, they landed everywhere: on her head, face and chest. Lorelei tried to think of something else; schoolwork, her mother’s birthday, they lyrics from her favorite Patti Smith song.

When he was finished he left her with one eye swollen shut and a nose that dripped blood uncontrollably but that wasn’t the only place she was bleeding from, gashes had been cut into her cheek, her lower lip was split and blood was running from her forehead into her eyes. Lorelei welcomed the sting.

“Now...” Jack Diamond picked a pair of pliers from his workbench, “...where shall we start? The fingernails or the teeth?”

She shook her head fiercely spattering blood, making her face a red ruin, “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not,” he said, “you know, the thing about pain is that it shows us who we are. It helps us to get in touch with the animal part of us. Fight or flight. Some animals will chew off a leg to escape from a trap, others will just lay down and die. Let’s find out what kind of animal you are.”

She laughed a little, even her smile was bloody, “You believe that bullshit? You think you’re some kind of badass because you know how to hurt and kill? You’re just as asshole taking his traumatic potty training out on the rest of the world.”

“You just don’t know when to quit do you?” Jack Diamond grabbed for her.

She looked up and spat an incantation; nothing too fancy, just something that knock him off his feet. The second incantation melted the ropes that held her like butter.

“How the Hell?” Jack Diamond tried to stand but his leg had twisted under him and he went right back down again.

“You should have paid attention to where you were hitting me. Runes of Enfeeblement are only good if they don’t get smeared,” she tapped her bloody forehead, “I said you were a fucking amateur.”

He tried to draw the pistol from his shoulder holster but Lorelei was ready, she dug the taser into his skin and watched him twitch.

“I should be going,” she said, her finger squeezing the trigger, “but let’s just see what kind of animal you are. I think we’ve got the time.”

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions): Sour Girl

The Nick Of Time

(and other abrasions)

Sour Girl

by

Al Bruno III

It was in the autumn that Lorelei Miller had become an Apprentice of the Greater Eastern Council of Mystagogues...

*

Lorelei blundered out of the door that lead to the rooftop, the dark eyed man was right behind her. They swung the metal door closed and she heard the deadbolt lock click into place.

“Safe,” he flashed her a smile, “safe for now.”

“Safe?” Lorelei’s eyes were candy green and her hair had been dyed a garish shade of red; she wore faded a black skirt and a ratty looking blouse. Her clunky boots scraped along the rooftop as she made her way to peer cautiously over the ledge. Ten stories down the members of two ethnic groups that had long lived resentfully side by side were now slaughtering each other with a kind of self-righteous glee. “Trapped on top of a condemned building in the middle of a riot with my stalker. That doesn’t sound very safe to me.”

“Stalker?” the dark eyed man sat down with his back to the door. He was her height, maybe a bit shorter, his hair was a tangle of close-cropped brown curls; beneath his battered leather jacket he wore a t-shirt that read We’re All Bozos On This Bus.

“Yes. My stalker. You think I haven’t seen you lurking around?” the one thing she couldn’t quite get a handle on how old he was. He was older than her- but when you were nineteen it sometimes seemed like the whole world was older than you.

“I’m not stalking you, I just... watch you sometimes,” he cleared his throat.

“I knew it!” she stormed over to him, stood over him. When she shouted, her spittle flecked his brow, “What are you after?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to meet you.”

Lorelei held up her hand and began counting off, “Mimir’s fountain, the Starlight Memorial, the frozen custard stand on Haruspex Boulevard and Pexley’s Emporium- twice. You’ve had more than enough chances to meet me.”

“I was waiting for the right time,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, “I didn‘t want us to get off on the wrong foot... I’m Jason Magwier by the way.”

“Good for you,” she walked from one side of the rooftop to another pausing to shiver with disgust at the sight of a dead pigeon lying beside a rusted air vent. Lorelei wasn’t afraid to die but when the end did come she didn’t want to finish up as a statistic or an anecdote-this situation had the smell of both.

There was an alley on the northern side of the building and across that alley was another, much more promising looking building. Old brownstones were few and far between in Olathoe but they were usually secure against chaos like this.

But how far was it from this rooftop to the next? Ten feet at least. Lorelei chewed her lip.

There was a crash and the metal door bowed outwards, in one spot it had torn away from the frame.

Lorelei took a few steps back, her muscles tensing.

Jason Magwier gave her a disbelieving look, “Are you seriously considering?”

“Very seriously considering.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

She turned to glare at him, “You have a better one?”

“No but you see...” Magwier started to pace, “I can see futures...”

“Predestination pisses me off,” the dead bird by the air vent was practically a skeleton, Lorelei knelt beside it and began plucking out the remaining feathers.

He laughed uncomfortably, “That’s the problem, I can see lots of futures. I can’t always tell which one is right.”

The door shook, the hole widening, red stained fingers crowded through the gap. Lorelei was putting the feathers into her hair, making sure to nick her scalp with each one.

Magwier asked, “What are you doing?”

“Stacking the odds.”

“Wait... wait... let’s think about this.”

“You think about it all you want,” she backed up to the opposite ledge then took a running start.

“Lorelei!” he cried, his voice sick with anguish.

She bounded from the roof and for a terrifying and wonderful moment she was sailing through the open air, then she hit the brownstone’s roof with a surprised grunt.

Jason Magwier stared after her, amazed.

The metal door fell away. The bloodthirsty crowd surged out onto the roof. With a yelp of panic Jason Magwier dashed across the rooftop and leapt. He hit the ledge with bone-jarring force. His hands flailed and grabbed the overhang. Hanging there he struggled to catch his breath.

Lorelei grabbed his wrists and pulled one free of the ledge.

“What are you doing?” he squawked.

“How do you know my name?” she leaned in close to him, making sure he saw the murder in her eyes.

The crowd on the opposite rooftop shouted and threw things. One of them tried to jump after them but only made it halfway. He hit the pavement with a wet crash.

“This isn’t the time!”

“TELL ME!”

“I did tell you!” he shouted, “I can see the futures.”

“Not good enough!”

“And I love you,” he started to slip, “I’ve loved you since before we met.”

Lorelei rolled her eyes, “You have got to be kidding me.”

The rioters on the opposite rooftop were hurling insults and anything else that wasn't bolted down. A bit of stone hit Magwier in the back. He cried out and lost his grip. She grabbed him pulled him roughly up over the edge and onto the rooftop.

They lay side by side on a bed of debris and bird droppings trying to catch their breath. Lorelei raised herself up on one elbow and regarded him sourly. “This does not mean,” she said, “that we are a couple.”

The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions): Tombs Of The Blonde Dead Part Six- Sealed With A Kiss

The Nick Of Time

(and other Abrasions)

Tombs Of The Blonde Dead

part six

Sealed With A Kiss

by

Al Bruno III

How could it all have gone so wrong?

How could it all have gone so wrong after years of preparation?

The Nine Sisters of Kashchei were no more, their sweet promises of revenge and delight unfulfilled. Oh, how Reynolds had wanted to lord his victory over his father, the father that had taken such pleasure in reminding him he was a bastard, the father that had never seen his son as anything more than a groundskeeper and a burden.

Gurlich Manor was burning, the fire had spread out from the gardens and was finding fuel in everything- furniture, trees, even the bodies of the party guests. The light from the fire was as bright as a sunrise and it cast flickering illumination through the windows of the one room cottage Larry Gurlich had allowed his son to live in. Reynolds was packing to leave. He didn’t have much to show for his near decade of thankless service; a few savings bonds, some cash and all the jewelry he had managed to steal from his father’s guests when the opportunity had presented itself.

It was enough for a new start, he had contacts in Los Angeles; that city of pornographers and sorcerers and everything in-between. Reynolds knew they had befriended him because they thought he was a quick path to his father but they had come to appreciate the talents that were his and his alone.

Hadn’t he let them taste the flesh of ghosts and the substance of dreams? Hadn’t he summoned creatures from the very Ruins of Creation for their amusement?

Yes, there were more than enough people out there that would help him start over, and even more that would follow him.

With a single suitcase packed Reynolds turned to go, his only regret was that he didn’t have time to steal any of the classic cars his father had collected and left to gather dust in storage.

“Going somewhere?” Audra DiMico asked.

Lorelei Miller gave her a disbelieving look, “I can’t believe you said that.”

“It seemed appropriate.”

“Can we get this over with so we can finish freeing all the animals?” Judy Bauer cast a nervous glance towards the open cages of the Garden Of Duchesses.

Reynolds stared at the three girls blocking the way out. He recognized one of them, she had almost cracked his ribs with a single kick. But the other two? He had no idea who they were, but they weren’t Girly Magazine material that was for damn sure. They had trouble written all over them- uninvited trouble.

“You cunts!” he realized aloud, “you’re the ones that ruined everything.”

Audra nodded sadly, “They always go right for the C-word don’t they?”

“Last refuge of a scoundrel,” Judy agreed.

The ax handle was still in reach, Reynolds grabbed it and waved it threateningly, “Get out of my way.”

“I would ask you why you did all this,” Audra said, “but I think the answer might be too pitiful to bear.”

Judy groaned, “Can we just finish this?”

The girl that had kicked him in the gut was just watching him and whispering under her breath; it was unintelligible but Reynolds still didn’t like the sound of it. Screaming like a madman he charged them, swinging the ax handle wildly.

Instead of backing away Lorelei stepped up to him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

The ax handle dropped to the floor, when the kiss broke Reynolds fell on top of it. He couldn’t move, he could barely breathe.

Lorelei wiped the blood from her lips already dreading the aftereffects of the Nightshade Kiss but how could she complain in the face of what her friends had gone through on this night? Audra had only escaped with a hasty translocation but she had been too hasty and glimpsed the very Heart of the Maelstrom; something no woman should ever do. Judy had protected herself from one of the Nine Sisters with a powerful spell of her own but the cost had been moments off her natural lifespan; when your future is uncertain those moments can add up.

As if there wasn’t enough that would haunt them about this terrible night.

“You won’t be able to move for a while,” Lorelei said, “if I had had more time I would have fixed it that you’d never move again but I suppose that would be pointless.”

Somewhere a peacock was screeching in alarm, Judy made an anxious sound and fidgeted in place, “Come on...”

“The fire hasn’t reached here yet, maybe it won’t even reach here at all” Lorelei explained, “so you’ve got a chance. That’s something isn’t it?”

Audra nodded, “We’re not monsters.”

“So... I guess that’s it, good luck.”

The three girls filed out of the cabin. Reynolds tried everything he knew, every invocation, every trick of the mind but he couldn’t move. He wanted to scream and beg but he could barely keep one breath coming after the other.

It wasn't long before he started to smell smoke.