I stood in the RaceTrac, checking out two slices of pizza. Like an annoying buzz in my brain, you need to see this, I turned my head up and over to look at the TV squawking on the corner of the cashier’s desk. The cashier had stopped checking out my pizza, he was leaned in watching the news. On the screen was popular and pretty Lucinda Lucille, holding her papers, reporting.
“As for what we can tell the twenty bodies found by police this morning have all been dismembered.” She wore a prim smile on her face, like she didn’t want to ruin her make up. “The identities of the bodies are unknown. This is the tenth case of mutilated corpses found this month and as the murders have totaled in the double digits, the police are calling in detectives for the unsolved case.”
“That’s me,” I said quietly under my breath.
Yeah, detectives, the new politically correct word for psychics. I was the best detective in the United States, I jailed more bad guys than the cops wanted to admit. Now I was called in for jobs of unsolved cases all over the country. Even so, calling in a detective is the last resort, the one called once the badges have no other choice.
The cashier shook his head, tsked, and turned back to checking out my purchases.
“Damn detectives,” he said, and I slightly twitched. “I say we throw them all out. They give me the creeps. Can’t they just read your mind, steal your identity, your bank information, and rob you blind? They’re likely the ones committing the murders in the first place!”
I said nothing to Mr. Jimmy Wobbles, who lived down the street from the RaceTrac, had 9 cats and was estranged from his daughter. I knew all that from the moment we met. Why would I want to steal that identity?
I paid for my pizza and left the RaceTrac. I was walking in my house when my cellphone rang. I answered it, and I put my cell between my ear and shoulder.
I said in my professional voice, “Detective Tamika Toliver.”
There was a short sigh in response, then came a responding professional voice.
“Detective Toliver, this is Chief of Police North Springs Police Department Grant Roth. Its unfortunate but…I’m afraid I have to ask for your help.”
That is my Bat-Signal. That’s my distress beacon. The police asking me for help means the situation is so dire they need a detective to figure it out. I had my RaceTrac pizza lunch, and a dead body wasn’t going anywhere.
I said with a shrug, “I’ll be there after eat.”
“I suggest skipping eating detective,” said Chief Roth in this low voice. “You’ll simply end up tossing it in the bushes. This is a nasty one.”
I said, “I heard about it. The dismembered mutilated bodies, right?”
“I can’t talk about it like this,” said the police chief. “We really need you to hurry up. How soon can you get down here?”
He gave me an address.
I put in the GPS on my phone and checked the distance from my home address.
I said, “That’s an hour drive from me. I’ll finish eating and be on my way. Toliver out.”
I hung up.
That’s the thing. Detectives are normally treated like crap. Before we were called detectives, we were called psychics, and before we were called psychics, we were called creepazoids. We still get called creepy or like Mr. Wobbles said so earlier, that we give people the creeps. So if the police are going to deem us detectives useful enough to solve cases that they can’t solve then they’d have to do it on our time and with respect. These are the same police officers who used to lock us up, throw us in mental institutions and use excess force during arrests. How many psychics were killed when it was supposed to be a traffic stop, or asking for I.D. or having the police called on us for “acting creepy” at a coffee shop?
Yeah. So don’t tell me I can’t eat lunch and I have to hurry up. I’ll get there when I get there. Besides…I need that hour to coach myself to walk up and be in the midst of police officers. A psychic willingly hanging around police officers is like a rabbit hanging around wolves.
It’s asking to be eaten.
I ate my pizza, hopped into my car with rusted rims, dirt-streaked doors and streaky windows, then peeled off. I put on the radio. It was a talk show, Mindy McCall and Richie Daniels.
Mindy was the only psychic who had made into showbusiness, she’s basically the only psychic people will listen to. We depend on her to be the face of us, be our only mouthpiece. You know, since the world thinks detectives are a monolith and we all think the same and look the same, even though detectives actually come from a variety of different backgrounds and upbringings. And sadly, Mindy says a lot of stupid shit that I wish she kept to herself.
Richie Daniels for a talk show host is rude, asks demeaning questions, and generally treats Mindy like she’s dumb or from another planet, with this like de-humanizing demeanor.
Mindy said on the radio, in this very clear voice, “Now it’s not true that all detectives detect the same thing. You can put three detectives in a room and they’d give different answers.”
I winced. Why is she saying that! That makes it sound like we’re lying! Give different answers? That lowers our credibility! Oh my gawd Mindy, shut up! It’s not like she’s wrong, but she’s saying it wrong. The right way to say it is that detectives have different power levels. A low-level detective won’t be able to detect as much as a high-level detective can. But that high-level will still detect the same thing that the low-level can! It’s all the same answer! Mindy is making it sound like different answers.
“Ah ha!” said Richie haughtily. “So you admit that detectives simply make it all up? You’re a bunch of charlatans. Fakers and phonies!”
“Thanks Mindy, dumbass,” I muttered, glancing over my right shoulder as I changed lanes. I didn’t like using mirrors when I drove. Spirits reflected in mirrors.
Mindy sighed.
Then she said, “Why don’t we ask Laura if I’m a fake?”
“Not this,” I whispered. Laura was Richie’s daughter who drowned in a pool accident two years ago. “Don’t do it this way, Mindy.”
The number one way to get people freaked out was speaking to their dead family members. Detectives, psychics, creepazoids, whatever you want to call us, we’ve been attacked and killed for freaking people out. “Acting creepy” or “they frightened me” is the number one reason a person gives for why they shot, stabbed, beat to death or anyone other way they killed one of us. It’s unlikely Richie will kill Mindy live on the radio. But she’s our spokesperson. She can get herself blacklisted. Then we’d have no one to speak for us.
Richie didn’t say anything.
Then he said softly, “Shut your mouth. Don’t say her name. It’s obvious what this is. You simply looked me up, found out about my daughter online, and are trying to trick me. You people are liars and manipulators. So you shut your mouth McCall.”
“Not good, not good, not good,” I chanted.
Whatever Mindy said was going to destroy the credibility of detectives everywhere. My cellphone rang, cutting into the radio broadcast as my Bluetooth picked up the call.
I cursed.
“Really! Who you think you are talking to your mother that way? Answering the phone like that.”
Shaniqua Bountiful C. Toliver. My birther’s upset voice filled the small confines of my car.
I winced, and took the exit to the right. According to the GPS, it was twenty more minutes to the crime scene. Twenty minutes of listening to the woman called my mother say whatever she had to say.
I said, “I can’t talk long, Mother. I’m heading to a crime scene.”
Shaniqua inhaled quickly.
Then she said, “You working on that mutilated corpse case? The news won’t shut up about it.”
“I’m not allowed to talk about active cases,” I said. “I also haven’t been to the crime scene so I don’t know what I’ll see. However considering the state of the news-”
Shaniqua snapped, “Why you always talk so proper? You got something to prove? You alone, right? You can talk like us, ain’t no one round.”
I didn’t reply right away. The GPS seemed confused about where to go. I might need to detect my way through this one.
“I’ve got to go, Mother,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later. Also, I don’t talk proper. Nor do I “talk white.” I talk like me.”
I pressed the end call button.
The talk radio came back on.
Richie was saying bombastically, “Now that the witch is gone, let me make this clear. Detectives are nutjobs, got that? Don’t trust them, don’t hire them, don’t let them go to school with your kids, don’t let them teach your kids. They’re unnatural, and-”
I groaned, and switched stations to jazz music. I need my mind clear. I’m about to wade into a den of police officers wearing blues. The last thing I need is hate speech filling up my head.
I let the music of strings and horns air out the mess from my head. Instead I focused on gearing up for the struggle ahead.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to a farmhouse. The front field was covered in police cruisers, red and blue lights twinkling in the mid-morning. Officers in blue uniforms stood around. I saw some chatting, some interviewing who had to be neighbors or maybe the family or friends of the people who were killed since a few were crying. I saw a blue throwing up, with his back getting patted by another blue-uniform next to him.
I parked and got out of my beatdown car. Heads turned to see me. I straightened my back and lifted my chin. Can’t let them see how nervous I am.
I walked up to the closest officer in blue.
I said, “Tamika Toliver, detective. Chief Roth called me in.”
“Ah yeah right,” said the blue, rubbing the back of his neck. “He’s out back behind the farmhouse with the bodies. Follow me.”
I followed him as he walked away, and this close, my detection senses went off. His name was Sergeant Seth Robinson, he was two years new to the force, he had an estranged relationship with his mother that he was attempting to reconcile and he had a niece who was a detective.
I said, “How is your niece doing?”
Sergeant Seth Robinson jolted strongly, like I had given him a stabbing in his side. He swallowed hard, and his fists clenched at his side. I detected his mind racing, trying to figure out how I could know, if I researched him beforehand, if I talked to someone else on the force who could have told him, how I was tricking him.
Finally he said, “I don’t give out personal information to strangers.”
I nodded. “Fair enough. Don’t forget to call your mother today, Seth.”
His shoulders hunched forward. His teeth gritted.
Then he said coolly, “It’s Sergeant to you. And that’s really frigging creepy and annoying. This is why no one likes detectives.”
I sighed softly.
“Call it as you see it, I guess,” I said, “though that was rude.”
“Really I’m rude?” Sergeant Seth snapped back. “When you’ve gone through my mind without my permission?”
“It’s not something I do on purpose,” I said. “When I get near someone, I detect, sense, read, glean, whatever words you want to use, information about them. More powerful detectives can get information about everyone the moment they enter a room. We can’t pick and choose. It happens.”
Sergeant Seth said, “But can’t you keep it to yourself?”
I said softly. “Sometimes we can’t help ourselves. Sometimes it’s a strong compulsion to say what we’ve detected. Kind of like blurting out what happens next in a movie without meaning to.”
Sergeant Seth snapped, “But the movie is people’s private lives, and their personal business, so that’s not the same.”
I sighed and didn’t respond, since we had rounded the back of the farmhouse. Police Chief of North Springs Grant Roth turned the moment we appeared, clearly on edge and waiting for me to show up. He breathed in at the sight of me, and his body tightened the moment I met his eyes.
“Detective Toliver,” he said on a slow exhale.
“Chief Roth,” I said.
It’s never pretty meeting an ex on the job, especially one who’s a cop now. We dated in college. The break up wasn’t pretty. Why, why even date a “creepazoid” simply because you lost a bet? Like I can’t sense from you the moment I met you that’s why you asked me out? And I am so desperate for male attention after being shunned my whole life I accepted anyway, and hoped that maybe, just maybe I can be normal enough to convince you to like me for who I am. Yet the entire time we dated I sensed every thought you have, and know each time you look at another woman and want someone else, each time you look at me and think about how weird I am, and wish you had won the bet.
So we broke up. I moved on from my one and only relationship. Grant Roth graduated with a degree in criminal justice, and became a cop who’s part of a system that criminalizes detectives for being what they are. And I became one of the top detectives in the nation, called in to solve unsolvable cases. Grant does everything he can to make sure no one knows we were together in the past.
I do my best to not blurt it out either.
“So,” I said. “Where’s the body?”
“Bodies,” said Chief Grant with another exhale, like he was relieved. He thought I’d say something incriminating him in our previous relationship. As if.
He whirled around and walked away with a beckoning wave of his arm.
“Come with me,” he said, leading me.
I didn’t need to follow Grant, and I didn’t. Instead, I began to follow the trail of spiritual ectoplasm.
“Hey!” he yelled, watching as I was starting to veer off course from him. “Bodies are this way.”
“Yeah,” I said over my shoulder. “But the spirits are going this way. You called me for this job, so let me do it my way.”
I turned my back from him, and the other blues staring at me. The cops couldn’t even tell who the victims were their bodies were so badly mutilated with the dismemberment, so what I was going to find that they didn’t? Spirits though? Spirits didn’t have the same damage that their bodies did. I’d be able to get the information from the dearly departed.
I followed the trail of the ectoplasm, the shiny bright white trails looked like what if ghosts could bleed. Some of it was big white splashes, other times the trail was only tiny peppers. Blues were cautiously following.
“Where is she going?” Sergeant Seth asked, still sounding a little bitter.
“Nowhere. It’s all a show.” That was the newest to the force, Kesley Warrick. I sensed he was fresh from the Academy, and was in the Marines for two years.
“That’s Toliver. She’s solved over one hundred cases, rookie,” said Chief Grant. “You can put a little respect on her name.”
I took that with a grain of salt. That wasn’t real praise. He’s calling me in more than likely because those higher up ordered him to. People are getting nervous. Someone is out there chopping people up and the police don’t know who and can’t stop it. Calling in a detective was the last resort to make it look like effort is being made on solving the case. Though thanks to Mindy’s big mouth on Richie’s show, I don’t know if anyone will count on a detective to solve a case ever again.
The trees behind the farm parted into a wide open field. And spread over the field were the missing body parts. Heads, fingers, jaws, essentially identifying markers. Like a dumping ground.
The blues made loud sounds and exclaims, then the rush to get the evidence guys down there. I walked away from the hullabaloo and from whatever Chief Roth was trying to say to me to hunker down. In the bush was the spirit that had led me to the evidence.
“Why are you hiding?” I asked the spirit. I could only see it’s flashing white eyes peeking between the leaves.
It’s still here.
I stood up quickly.
“Hey,” I said, turning around in sudden motion. “Everyone listen.”
The uniforms weren’t listening, they were busy gathering the body parts and talking to each other about the mess it would take matching up everything and claiming the bodies.
“HEY!”
I yelled as loud as I could. Getting my voice heard in a room where my thoughts and opinions label me as other and inhuman is not only a struggle, but dangerous. But here I am.
The blues turned towards me with annoyed and irritated looks.
I jerked my thumb to the spirit hiding in the bush.
“According to my friend here,” I said. “Whatever’s been tearing bodies apart is still here. So you may want to look alive.”
Officer Warrick laughed raucously while something very tall and very wide began to move in the dark bushes behind him.
He said derisively, “So you’re talking to bushes and plants now?”
“No,” I said, crossing my arms. “I’m talking to the spirit hiding from what’s coming up behind you.”
Officer Warrick grabbed his government issued handgun, and began to swing around but it seemed like he was moving in slow motion, while the chimeric cryptid lunging out was too fast. I’ve never seen the beast of legend put together like this. A North American chimera with parts mountain lion, bald eagle, bison, and grizzly bear.
The chimera cryptid attacked with front long muscular arms like a grizzly bear, it’s large clawed bear paws grabbed Officer Warrick. One massive paws grabbed his neck, the other his right arm, and tore effortlessly. The body parts came off like snapping off the limbs of a Barbie doll, popping off Officer Warrick’s body effortlessly with spurts of crimson red blood. His spirit stepped out of his body in a silver white glow.
He stared at me, and turned to look at his body getting thrown to the side.
“Am I dead?” he asked.
“Fraid so,” I said simply.
All around us the officers were unloading their clips into the chimera, who was dodging with the hind legs of a mountain lion, giving it speed and agility. The bald eagle wings on it’s back flared open, and it lunged up into the air, soared over the farmhouse, and flew away.
The officers in blue were left behind, spewing curses, some throwing up, and others kneeling down besides Officer Warrick’s discarded body, now missing a head and an arm. Officer Warrick’s spirit was standing nearby, looking at his own body.
White light then began to sparkle around him, and his spirit shining transparent. Whispers from beyond called out to him.
“What’s happening?” he whispered, holding out his spectral hands as they slowly faded into transparency.
I said, “You’re passing on. Onto the next life.”
“I don’t wanna go,” he said quickly. “I’m not ready.”
“Don’t say that,” I said.
I vaguely noticed the officers were staring at me, but I ignored them.
I said to the spirit, “If you insist to stay, you’ll become trapped here. You’ll be forced to stay here, roaming, and became a haunt. Just go home.”
Officer Warrick’s spirit said with great awe and fear, “But what if I go to Hell? I haven’t been…I’m not the nicest…I don’t want to go.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, waving that away. “What’s Hell is stuck here as a haunting spirit unable to get away once you really do want to pass on. Just go on. Be free.”
Office Warrick began to fade away, and said, “Tell my wife that I love her. And my son that I’m sorry I’m not there for him.”
“Sure,” I said with a nod. “I’ll tell her and your son. Now go. Don’t worry anymore.”
Then he was gone, and the white light sparkled away.
I turned back to see with a jolt the blues had gotten closer than I had realized.
“You were talking to the air,” pointed out Chief Roth, his fists clenched. “Having a conversation…with nothing.”
I steadied myself.
Here we go.
The moment a detective proves their worth…or everyone decides they are crazy and making it up.
I said, “I was talking to Officer Warrick.”
“He’s dead,” snapped Sergeant Seth. “He’s laying there with his head ripped off. So you standing there talking to the air is just ridiculing him. It’s insulting to his death.”
I sighed a little.
Then I said, “He realized right away he was dead. He was afraid to pass on. I encouraged him not to stay. He told me to tell his wife that he loved her and to apologize to his kid that he wouldn’t be there for his son.”
Another officer, one glance at him I knew her name was Officer Mona Lewis, she said, “What? Warrick doesn’t have any kids. He doesn’t have a son.”
Chief Grant said quietly, “Are you saying Lisa is pregnant?”
I said, “I am only telling you what I discussed with Warrick. Listen, you all know what’s killing these people. You’ve got a cryptid on your hands. A North American chimera.”
“How are we supposed to kill it?” asked Sergeant Seth, glancing at Chief Grant then back at me. “We unloaded our clips at it, and that beast dodged each one. I’ve never seen anything move that fast.”
I said, “You’ll need to hire a monster hunter. Most monster hunters are half-human, have monster blood in them. They can match inhuman or animalistic speed. They also normally have enchanted or blessed weapons on them that can kill cryptids, monsters, immortal beasts. Government issue handguns won’t even draw blood on a chimera.”
Everyone was staring at me like I was insane.
“Fine,” finally said Chief Grant. “Where can we get this…monster hunter?”
I sighed.
So it’s up to me. I have to hold their hand through this. Of course. I’m the detective, the supernatural, so it’s up to me to do all the work. They couldn’t solve the case, I talked to a spirit that got the cryptid to show itself, and now I’m the one who has to find the guy who can put it down.
“Alright,” I said. “I know a guy who knows a guy. I’ll be in contact.”
“How long will it take?” asked Chief Grant, crossing his arms. “Because in the meantime, we have a chimera terrorizing North Springs and ripping people apart.”
I said, “Tell people to stay indoors at night, and if they have to go out, wear lots of very strong smelling perfume. Chimera have sensitive noses, and will be repelled by it. Keep animals like dogs with them as deterrents since a dog will start barking and scaring off a chimera. Also they can stay strapped too. The gun won’t hurt the chimera, but the loud noise and getting attacked can drive them off.”
Chief Grant stared at me.
“Telling civilians to arm themselves is a bad idea,” he said. “I can’t have the public walking around with guns shooting at shadows.”
I put my hand up in a wave and walked away.
“I did my part,” I said. “I’ll contact the monster hunter. Monster hunters like hunting monsters, so you can expect our chimera to be put down well within the week.”
“That’s a relief,” said Chief Grant, moving quickly to catch up to my side. “What will we say about Officer Warrick? His head got ripped off.”
I said, “I suppose you will tell the truth in your report. The cryptid killed him, he died in the line of duty. Isn’t that what it’s called?”
Chief Grant glanced at me, and his thoughts broke into me. He thought I was harsh, cold, unfeeling, and totally creeped him out. He thought about that I really wasn’t that pretty, and wondered about how he even managed to go through with that bet in college. Then he wondered if I really did talk to Warrick’s spirit, and if I really was a fraud. He considered a way he could try and lock me up, if there was a crime I had committed, if he could get me for something during this case.
I sighed once we reached my car, and turned to face him.
“Grant,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I get you have hang ups about the bet in college.”
His eyes tensed up, and he stared at me so intently, his mouth twitched. His mind exploded with ways that he wanted me to shut up, like punching me in the throat, or unloading his clip in me right now, though his gun was already empty.
I said, “However, framing me for a crime to lock me up won’t change it. Thinking about how “un-pretty” I am like TLC won’t change it either. I’ll keep solving cases using my God-given psychic gifts whether you like me or not. Because I’m not here for you. I’m here for spirits like Officer Warrick. I’m here for the spirits like the one in the bush. I’m here to help them. Got it?”
Chief Grant stared at me like he had never seen me before. Then he stepped back.
“Yeah, got it,” he said. “Hit me up with the monster hunter.”
“Will do,” I said.
I got in my car, and drove away. I connected my phone with the Bluetooth, and called Officer Kelsey Warrick’s house. Since I had just spoken with his spirit, and he requested I speak with his wife, I could do so without knowing the number beforehand. I simply knew it now.
The phone picked up.
“Hello?”
The voice was soft, warm, friendly.
Worst phone call of her life.
“Hi, Lisa Warrick?” I asked, sounding calm while I was pulling a face on the line.
“That’s me,” said now the widow of Officer Kelsey Warrick. “Can I ask who’s calling?”
“Someone who’s worked with the police today,” I said. “I’m calling to give you a message from your husband, Officer Kelsey Warrick.”
“Ah…” said Lisa, sounding a little confused. “Um, okay. Not sure why he didn’t just call me himself. Alright, what’s the message?”
I breathed out.
Then I said, “He told me to tell his wife that he loved her and to apologize to his kid that he wouldn’t be there for his son.”
“What?” Lisa repeated in this voice like she didn’t hear me, like what I said didn’t process. “I’m sorry, is this some kind of joke? A prank call?”
“No, not a joke or a prank,” I said, sighing. “You’ll be hearing from the police department soon. I’m really sorry about your loss, Lisa.”
Lisa choked. “W-wait a minute! Are you telling me my husband is dead? Hold on! Are you…oh God. You’re a detective!”
“That’s right, I am,” I said, checking the GPS. I should be home soon. “Officer Warren was killed while we were working on the case of the dismembered bodies this afternoon. He gave me that message to give to you and his son before he passed on.”
Lisa cried, not saying, only mourning.
Suddenly the phone call crackled with ghostly language.
Then Officer Kelsey Warrick’s voice whispered, “Lisa…Lisa…”
Lisa gasped, her voice strangled. “Kel? Kel is that you?”
I cringed slightly. This is why I didn’t really like using cellphones. Ghost interference aka electronic voice phenomena with ghosts hijacking signals to communicate. I thought Officer Warrick passed on! Maybe because his death was so new, he still had a strong latch onto his family and didn’t fully let go.
The ghost’s voice from the beyond didn’t sound like a normal man speaking on the phone. His voice crackled and hissed, with a whisper like he was talking from behind a silky veil. Normally a ghost speaking is very frightening and could send someone running away.
Kelsey said in that ghostly voice, “Lisa…I’m sorry…Don’t forget…me.”
Lisa sobbed, “This can’t be real. Kel, is this a joke? Are you playing a prank on me with the force’s detective?”
Kelsey wheezed, “Lisa…I love you…sorry…our boy…sorry…”
I was almost home, and I had to call the monster hunter. The sooner this case was over, the better. That chimera had ruined enough families.
I said, “I am sorry Lisa, but this isn’t a joke. The police Chief Grant should be dropping by your house with the news of Officer Warrick’s death soon. I’m hanging up. You should say your goodbyes now.”
“This can’t be real, you can’t be serious!” Lisa said shakily. “How can this happen! No, no, no.”
I said, “I’m sorry Lisa. Goodbye.”
I pulled into my house driveway, and carefully ended the call.
I exhaled, feeling shaky. That was very rough. I can easily speak to the dead, but speaking to the living?
Finally at home, I called my guy who knew a guy.
Elías J. Montaque was a connector, a middle man. You go to him when you need someone else. He knew numbers, knew contacts, knew home addresses, knew how to find people who lived off the grid. He took cases, and found you the person who could best do the job.
He listened as I told them my current case.
“A North American chimera huh,” he said. “What’s it parts again?”
I said, “Parts mountain lion, bald eagle, bison, and grizzly bear.”
“Got it,” said Jay, he goes by his middle initial, fitting for someone who’s a middle man. “Wonder how it came about. Chimera are rare enough in their own home country Lycia, Asia Minor, but North America?”
I said, “Someone probably made it meddling with forces beyond their control, and it got loose. Then they didn’t come forward and admit that their magic pet is now out slaughtering people. So I need a monster hunter to put it down.”
“Um hm,” said Jay. “We should also get a tracker. Someone who can trace the magic signal back from the chimera to whoever created the beast. Your police force will likely want to know who’s the cause of all this. It’s not like you can blame the chimera for hunting and eating people. The fault lies with it’s creator.”
“Alright,” I agreed. “Then give me the names, I’ll send it to the Police Force, and it’ll be up to the government to pay them whatever they ask to take the case.”
Jay warned, “Most monster hunters are old school. They’ll want solid gold, or gems or diamonds. And they almost always want the fangs, or skin or claws as trophies.”
“Got it,” I said. “I’ll let the police know. And I’ll tell them if they refuse payment, the monster hunter won’t come.”
“Good,” said Jay. “I’ll get back to you.”
We hung up.
About an hour later, my phone rang again, the landline this time. I prefer a landline to my cellphone. Spirits are very involved in wireless communication. Electronic voice phenomena can drive any psychic crazy.Just like what happened earlier with Officer Warrick on the call with Lisa.
“I’m not ever this popular,” I said right before I answered.
“You are now,” said the soft and husky voice of my close friend on the other end. “The news won’t stop talking about you. Want to watch with me?”
“Not particularly,” I said bitterly. “What did they report, Sol?”
Solana De La Vega tsked. “That the local detective Tamika Toliver found the cause of the mutilation killings and is the point man in the operation. Everyone is counting on you.”
“Great,” I said dryly. “Count me not happy. Especially with what Mindy had to say about detectives earlier. I doubt the talk about Tamika Toliver is positive.”
“Well depends on who’s talking,” agreed Solana. “What’s the next step for the case?”
I exhaled and sat back.
“Well,” I said. “We need to find out who made the chimera, so we’ve hired a monster hunter and a tracker. If Jay is any good, and he is, he’ll get someone who can do both. If all goes well, this case can be wrapped up by the end of the week.”
Solana hummed.
“Another win for the Great Detective Tamika Toliver,” she said.
I rolled my eyes.
By the end of the day, Jay called me again.
“I got you a monster hunter-tracker,” he said, exactly what I thought. “His name is Eleutherius, one name.”
“The Liberator,” I said, nodding with a pulled face. “Appropriate. When can he get here?”
“He left Turkey about an hour ago,” said Jay. “So he should be on your side of the planet in about eleven hours.”
I winced. That’s enough time for the chimera to wreck havoc again.
Then I said, “We’ll just have to hold on until Libby gets here.”
Jay laughed. “Libby! That’s a good one! I’d love to see the big guy’s face when you call him that. Alright, getting another call. Good luck, sis.”
We hung up.
A second later a crash came from my back door. Quickly following was the deep rumbling growl of a mountain lion.
I slowly stood up.
The chimera.
Here at my house? Sent by the one who created it, to shut me up and stop me from leading the case to destroy it.
“Oh De La Vega,” I groaned. “Why’d you do it?”
It only made sense. She contacted me for information, learned what was happening next, then sent her pet chimera after me to kill me. I thought we were best friends but whatever she was up to, she was willing to do anything to hide it. Even betray me.
I didn’t have time to mourn the loss of a ten year friendship. I could hear the chimera searching the house for me. Its head was a mountain lion, a predator that didn’t have the best sense of smell, but it had an excellent sense of hearing and sight. The moment I made a noise or moved, it would find me. I also saw how fast it was, fast enough to dodge bullets. Not that I had a gun. I also didn’t have any hope of rescue. The Liberator wouldn’t be here for twelve hours. I was about to be killed in twelve seconds.
I never thought I’d have to use this technique, but I never thought I’d be faced with getting ripped apart by a chimera sent by a murderous best friend either.
I carefully lifted my palm to my mouth, and sharply nipped my skin enough to draw blood. Then I spread the blood with a finger in a looping and arching text on the table, while only uttering the sounds of summoning in my throat. The physic energy gripped me right away, flipping my eyes behind my skull milky white, and my body went rigid.
The chimera was in my bedroom, crashing over my bed, and ripping down my closet. Seemed like it was taking direct orders from De La Vega, and searching for hiding places. That was giving me time to call up my own beast. My former friend had gotten hers by stitching together parts of fierce animals to make mythological beast.
My beast that was pulling itself out of the arching text written in blood and powered with psychic energy pulled from my body was called straight from the ancient religious texts. Something that can fight a chimera on a level playing field.
The First Great Beast of the Sea. Described in Daniel 7:1-28 as like a lion and had eagles’ wings, I opened my eyes to see the great beast settle in front of me, rustling it’s giant dark brown wings on it’s amber-colored back. It had a pitch black mane, and glowing red eyes. The wall across from me broke down as De La Vega’s chimera burst through.
For a moment, both chimera stared each down. The North American chimera with the head of a mountain lion, the wings of a bald eagle, the body of a bison, the arms and legs of a grizzly bear.
I held my bloody palm that had brought forth the Great Beast of the Sea.
“You see, Solana,” I said, knowing she could hear and see through her De La Vega chimera. “I’m not as weak as you likely thought. I won’t lay down and let your little pet project rip me to shreds. You can surrender, and I’ll send the police to your house to arrest you.”
In response, the De La Vega chimera lunged at me, bald eagle wings spread wide. With a swipe of my palm, the Great Beast of the Sea leapt, intercepted, and collided into the other chimera. I used my summoning palm to control the Great Beast. I couldn’t lose control of it, or either the thing would run wild, or it would be unsummoned. I had to defeat my former best friend’s chimera first.
My house was being destroyed. Having two giant animals rolling around in a house made of wood and stone wasn’t smart. I ended up having to run outside as the walls began to come down, taking the roof with it.
Outside, curious neighbors had begun to gather, cellphones up recording.
I said, “You may want to get back.”
“Why?” asked one defiantly.
With a slam, the De La Vega chimera punted out the Great Beast of the Sea, who flew back and would have swiped that neighbor into next week, if I hadn’t used my other hand to pull them over to the side. Instead the Great Beast of the Sea smashed my car.
“Augh insurance is not going to cover that,” I sighed, and used my palm to lift it up onto it’s feet.
The De La Vega came flying out, attacking at me, and the Great Beast of the Sea intercepted, tackling it.
More people arrived, and the police soon too, with a TV crew.
“Not what I need,” I said between gritted teeth, trying to control the fight away from bystanders.
Police Chief Grant ran towards me. “Tamika! What the hell is going on! Why are there two of those things!”
“One is mine,” I said, focusing. “The lion one. I summoned it to protect myself.”
“What!” he said. “What are you talking about!”
I ignored him, because the blood was running dry on my palm, and the Great Beast of the Sea was getting hard to control. Like a game console controller keys that were sticky. I bit my palm, coated it with fresh blood, and got back in the fight.
Then suddenly the De La Vega chimera leapt away, only to stand behind a tall slender figure.
“Solana,” I said in a heavy pant.
With painted black nails, she pushed her heavy flow of red wine hair behind her ears and looked at me.
“You just had to get involved, didn’t you?” she said, putting that hand on her hip.
I faced her. My blood palm down at my side, so the Great Beast of the Sea prowled back and forth around my back, glowing red eyes flashing. A crowd of TV crew, cellphones and blues were on the sidewalk and at my demolished house, watching and recording everything.
So much for a low profile.
I slowly shook my head.
I said, “You know there’s no way you come out on top, right? The road ends for you tonight. Either dead, or in handcuffs.”
Solana’s red lips tightened into a pinch. Then she just laughed, and shook her head too. She slowly held her hand up at me, fingers braced. The De La Vega chimera crouched, ready to pounce. The cellphones all gasped and screamed but didn’t run, instead held their blinking red lights up higher to get a good view.
Solana, honey brown eyes glinting with menace, said, “Who do you think made the bet with those college boys about you? Even if I go to jail, at least you’d be dead.”
I clicked my teeth, and blinked back the sudden lash of tears.
Police Chief Grant shifted awkwardly next to me, though I sensed his brain flaring with alarms.
I said, “Isn’t that the saying? With friends like you, Solana, do I even need enemies? If you hate me so much, why’d you even bother pretending to like me?”
“There’s another saying,” said Solana. “Keep friends close, enemies closer. I have a laundry list of why I hate you, but you are useful. Your connections to the police and insider information have helped me stay off their radar for so long. You’re quite chatty when you think you’re just talking to one of the girls.”
My free hand closed into a fist. So she was using me to get information all this time. And the information she got she used to hide her crimes. And I never even knew because I trusted her. Blind trust is a real thing, even for a psychic.
I also put my blood palm up, and the Great Beast of the Sea rose to attention, this time, I dug my fingers into my palms, and tore off my skin. Right then, the wings of the Great Beast of the Sea plucked right off it. It stood onto it’s hind legs like a man, and the countenance of it’s lion face changed to a more man-like one. It had a human intelligence now.
I glanced at Police Chief Grant Roth, who was staring at the tall man-lion with intense fear.
I said, “You want this dangerous woman and her chimera off the streets, right? She’s a cop killer for one thing, and she’s murdered over twenty civilians. She also won’t stop, and her chimera can’t be killed by government issued bullets. I can handle this right now.”
Grant sweated. “What about the monster hunter you told me about?”
“He’s about ten hours away on a flight from Turkey,” I said. “It’s me or nothing.”
Solana flicked two fingers at me.
“Get her,” she ordered.
The chimera lunged at me, quick as lightning.
I pointed with my ruined hand at Solana De La Vega and her chimera.
I said, “Those two.”
The Great Beast of the Sea, now on it’s hindlegs with the mind of a man, grappled the chimera before it could get to me, opened it’s huge lion mouth, and bit the chimera on the neck. The crunch of the neck bone was audible, and black blood spurted from the wound.
“NO!” Solana cried.
I stared at Solana and crashed my mind into hers with a full force of psychic energy. She stumbled backwards, and clutched the sides of her head, then collapsed to her knees.
“You can arrest her,” I said to Grant. “She’s weakened right now. Make sure to use handcuffs with silver infused. She won’t be able to use magic.”
Solana was arrested, and her chimera destroyed by fire, after I had the Great Beast of the Sea tear its parts into pieces.
“Can you keep that thing around?” asked Chief Grant, glancing it.
“I am no thing,” answered the Great Beast of the Sea, in this deep welling man-voice, terrible as it came from the face of a lion creature. The voice sounded like one fit to drive someone mad. Several people in the crowd screamed. “I am the First of Four Great Beasts to Emerge from the Sea. Terrible and destructive, I am a empire and a nation of power and violence. But I too, will pass away. Only the kingdom of heaven shall endure.”
Chief Grant put his hands over his ears, they looked like they were going to start bleeding. I damped my other hand with my tongue, then pressed it to my ripped and bleeding summoning palm.
I said, “I cried to you, you healed me, you brought up my soul, you kept me alive. Now, I send you back to the pit. Go, and do not talk, think, or walk anymore.”
I smoothed my palms together, and the Great Beast of the Sea’s body melted together into a puddle then disappeared into little hissing smoke. I exhaled heavily, and wavered, getting tired.
“That was a lot,” I said.
Then suddenly rushing into my face were news crews.
Shoving a microphone at my mouth was popular and pretty Lucinda Lucille, still with that prim smile on her face, like she didn’t want to ruin her make up. Her eyes were glittering though, as eager as a snake who had found prey.
“Tamika, Tamika Toliver,” she said, smile slightly sharpening. “Can you tell us, explain to us, what we just saw? Showcasing abilities like that! Are you saying psychics have abilities to create monsters?”
“That wasn’t a monster, that was an ancient summon,” I said. “And that’s a no. It’s very rare anyone can do that. Listen, I am very tired so I’d like to go back to my…house…”
I turned to look at my house. It was in shambles. Three of the walls down, half of the roof collapsed. And I no longer had a friend I could ask if I could come over and borrow their couch.
I sighed again.
Looks like I need a motel.
“Tammy girl! That’s my girl, that’s my Tammy! Move, you fool!”
I turned quickly.
It was my mother. Shaniqua Bountiful C. Toliver, pushing her way through the crowd. She launched herself into my arms, and squeezed me.
“Ma-ma-mom!” I croaked out, stunned.
“I thought you died!” gasped Shaniqua. “I never, I never knew! That you could do that! Are you an angel or a demon?”
“Neither, or something in between,” I said with a startled laugh. “Ah, Mom, can I borrow your couch for a few days? My house is um compromised right now.”
“Sure baby,” said my mother, starting to gesture me to her car.
We were surrounded by more cellphones, and blues, and news cars, and I knew The Liberator would be here annoyed about not having a chimera to hunt. But for now, my town of North Springs was safe. I had solved another case. And the police would be calling for Detective Tamika Toliver once again soon.
Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading, and until next time Storytellers, A. E.