Soul Crafter

Chapter Seven: Time to See the Guardian

Victor walked the moonlit streets of New York. It had been nearly over 15 hours since he had last seen Michelle. He resisted thinking about awful scenarios about her being hurt or scared, and instead forced himself to focus on finding solutions.

       He was following the vague scent of his quarry. He was close now. He knew it was not a scent a human could easily detect. It was the scent of immortality. For him to detect another immortal being, such as the one he was seeking, took centuries of practice. Even now that he could pick up the scent, it was hard for him to pin-point exactly where it originated.

     What’s more, he was getting weak. It was more difficult for him to use his abilities. He needed to regain his strength if he wanted to find this other immortal he was seeking. Victor turned his focus on the city at large. He paid attention to the heartbeats of the passersby. He watched each individual within a group, sizing them up, reading their energy. It wasn’t until he came to the end of the sidewalk that he knew who his next meal would be.

     He heard the sound of a woman whimpering down a dark alley. Humans were not able to pick up such a faint sound so far away, but he could, and he slowly prowled down the dark path. He came to the end of the alley, and there he saw a stalled, old-fashioned car. The headlights were on, illuminating a shabby, run-down building in front. Victor approached the vehicle from behind, and then with one, jarringly violent movement, he ripped the trunk top clean off and threw it aside on the pavement with a loud clank.

     Inside was a gagged and bound up teenage girl. She looked up at him with wide-eyed terror and tear-streaked cheeks. He saw that she had large, purple bruises on her neck and arms. With his sharp nails, he ripped off the duct tape around her ankles and wrists.

     “You need to run,” Victor said stoically, staring at her with bloodlust in his eyes. The girl, with quivering hands, pulled off the lipstick-stained gag.

     “Th-thank you,” she stuttered.

     “Go,” Victor said more aggressively. Startled, the girl took one last look at Victor, and then jumped out of the trunk and ran.

     Victor walked over to the drivers’ side window and turned on the radio. He moved the dial around until it landed on a clear station with music. It sounded like a song that was several decades old. Victor had vague memories of having heard it when it first came out.

     He turned up the volume dial until the music blared, then went to stand in front of the car’s headlights.

     Moments later, a man in shabby clothes, holding a duffle bag, opened the front door and ran down the steps.

     “What the hell is going on out here?!” the man exclaimed, stopping as soon as he noticed the tall figure standing in front of the parked car. He could just barely make him out in the dark as the headlights shined in his eyes. He put a hand over his brow to shield his eyes.

     He ran around Victor, and around the car. Fear, and then fury colored his expression when he realized that the trunk’s lid was missing, along with the girl who’d been bound inside.

     “What did you do to my car?” he yelled. He dropped his duffle bag. He pulled out a switchblade from his pocket and approached the long haired man that was casually leaning on his vehicle.

     Victor then snapped his fingers— the headlights went off, and the music got even louder.

     The man stumbled in the dark, looking for Victor.

     “Where did you go? Come out, you coward!” he yelled.

     Victor, his eyes glowing red, appeared behind the man. He covered his mouth to muffle his screams, sank his teeth into his neck, and drank deeply.

     “That was a bit theatrical, even for you, don’t you think?” came a man’s voice from behind Victor. Victor removed his teeth from the man’s neck and turned around to see who it was— blood dripping down his lips.

     In the dim light of the dark alley, where any movement would have likely been imperceptible to an untrained eye, Victor turned to see the man who was standing just a few feet away from him. He knew immediately who, and what, it was.

     There stood a man in a black leather jacket and blue jeans. His face was smooth, clean-shaven, and his brown hair was combed back. He had a serene, yet cocky and sophisticated air about him, with his hands casually in his pockets.

     Victor licked his lips and then dropped the man down at his feet. Fire erupted from Victor’s hand; without even bothering to look down, he shot it at the man’s now drained corpse. He burned it until it turned to ash at his feet.

     “I get bored sometimes. I need some variety in my meals,” Victor said plainly, now walking toward the mysterious man.

     “I don’t blame you— how long has it been since we last spoke? Fifty years?”

     “Over one hundred— it’s good to see you,” Victor said.

     “Call me Owen,” he said.

     Victor raised his eyebrow as he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood off his chin.

     “You chose that name for yourself?” Victor asked.

     “What, you don’t like it?” Owen said defensively.

     “It’s your name, call yourself whatever you like. Besides, I thought you hated humans?” Victor said indifferently.

     “I do, but if I’m going to be living in the city as a human, I gotta keep a good cover.”

     “I don’t care what you do. Right now I need your assistance.”

     “What, you don’t want to catch up?” Owen pouted.

     Victor frowned at his expressiveness. “Your imitation of unnecessary human displays is quite accurate.”

     “Thanks, I’m working on useless banter, too.” Owen grinned. “So what is it you need?” he continued in a more serious tone.

     “I need your help again, crossing into another realm,” Victor said.

     They both suddenly went still. Victor looked behind Owen and saw a group of teenagers approaching.

     “Come on, let’s get away from the scene of the crime,” Owen said, looking down at the pile of ash sitting next to a couple drops of blood.

     Victor nodded; the two of them walked past the group of laughing, rambunctious teenagers, and walked down the main, busy sidewalk.

     “How did you find me?” Victor asked. He had been looking for Owen and struggling to find his exact location.

     “The same way you were trying to find me,” Owen chuckled. “Except I have a few thousand years on you,”

     “Noted,” Victor said plainly.

     “So, you need my help again. You want to find another sprite?” Owen asked, looking at Victor’s stoic, brooding face.

     “Not exactly. I need a key. I must go to a realm neither of us have ever been to.” Victor remembered the last time Owen had helped him. He had taught him the necessary ritual to get through the door that lead him to the mountain sprite.

     “Lucky you know a realm guardian who can help you out,” Owen said, bumping Victor’s shoulder with his. Owen didn’t know how it was possible, but somehow Victor’s frown became even deeper.

     “Still don’t like to be touched, eh?” Owen joked.

     “We need to go to North Carolina, that’s where you’ll find the energy signature of the realm I need you to take me to,” Victor said, ignoring Owen’s question.

     “You’re so rude, you know? You could try and act friendly.”

     “I know you don’t actually care, so why are you pretending?” Victor replied.

     “Just getting into character.” Owen grinned as they passed by groups of people. “God, some of these humans reek.”

     “Which makes me wonder why you’re bothering to live amongst them,” Victor said.

     “I thought you didn’t care?” Owen asked, following Victor up to an abandoned building.

     “I don’t care, but you’re not making any sense,” Victor said, ripping the boards off of the front door. He yanked the door open, and they both went inside.

     “You’re one to talk— I can already tell you spend way too much time around people by the way you smell.” Both he and Victor were now standing inside an old, dirty loft with termite-eaten beams exposed above their heads.

     “Only one person holds my interest. I don’t really care about who she hangs out with.”

     “I think I know who you mean.” Owen smiled playfully.

     “Are you ready?” Victor asked, interrupting him.

     “Do you need to ask?” Owen asked, incredulously.

     And then, everything around them went pitch black.

     “I’ve never traveled this way,” Owen said in the darkness.

     The darkness dissipated and light slowly crept up. Around them materialized trees, and then houses— and then the whole suburban street of Highcroft Village was visible.

     “We’re in North Carolina now?” Owen asked, standing under a streetlight.

     “Yes, let me show you where the energy signature is,” Victor said.

     Owen smelled the air; his eyes briefly glowed pale blue.

     “You don’t need to, I can smell the hotspot from here,” Owen said, hunger in his tone.

     He walked at a quick pace beside Victor until they reached the end of the street where Michelle, Bianca, and Chris vanished.

     “So, three people were sucked inside of this pocket realm?” Owen mused aloud, crouching down and putting his palm on the road.

     “Yes.”

     “And I sense another… This energy feels vaguely familiar,” Owen said, frowning.

    “Another?” Victor asked, and then growled knowingly. “You must mean Melek.”

     “Melek…” Owen repeated, unsure. “Do you mean that guy who attacked you a long time ago? The one you supposedly killed?”

     “That’s the one.”

     “Damn, he’s persistent.”

     “Not only has he become immortal, but he’s learned a few tricks.”

     “I can see that. From an ordinary demon hunter with a couple of magic tricks, straight to a realm-creating immortal— that’s quite the development.” Owen smiled wryly.

     “Can you get me inside this realm he created or not?” Victor spat.

     “Yeah, I can,” Owen said, standing up. “But it’ll take me a bit to figure out which key will work.”

     “How long?” Victor calmly demanded.

     “I don’t know, a few minutes?” Owen replied, then raised his hands, palms out, and concentrated.

     “Do you need my blood again?” Victor interrupted.

     “I don’t think I’ll need it this time,” Owen said flatly.

     Victor waited.

     “By the way, what’d you do to piss off this Melek so much?” Owen asked, brows furrowed and eyes closed.

     “I bested him.”

     “That’s all it took?”

     “Something like that…”

     “I haven’t found the key yet, so you might as well tell me what I’m missing.”

     “What happens to most humans? He became power hungry— and still seeks more power. Once he tasted it, he became addicted.”

     “Well, don’t you have a lot in common with him then?” Owen pointed out.

     “What?” Victor replied incredulously.

     “You’re the only vampire I know who has the abilities that you have. You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way as Melek.”

     “My reasons for gaining power are nothing like his,” Victor said menacingly.

     “If you say so.”

     Victor crossed his arms and scowled around him as he waited for Owen to find the key.

     “Ah, got it!” Owen exclaimed.

     “Finally,” Victor said, approaching Owen.

     “Once you’re in, you’ll have to shout to me how many people will be coming with you, so I know who to grab.”

     Victor nodded.

     “Oh, and one more thing— in this kind of realm that he made, there will be… pests inside.”

     “Pests?”

     “Yes. If you’re not careful about how you make your own realm, they can become a real problem, and can even kill the inhabitants,” Owen explained, opening the palm of his hand before him and focusing intently on it.

     “And on that note, you’d really better get inside before anything bad happens to your humans,” Owen finished, and manifested a bright blue key in his hand, which matched the color of his now bright, blue glowing eyes. He crouched down and then stuck the key into the air, just a few inches above the street. He turned the key as if it were inside an invisible lock.

     A shimmery opening the size of a manhole appeared. Owen moved aside to make way for Victor, who folded his arm around himself and jumped inside, determined to save Michelle.