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Fragments of Fiction

Fragments of Fiction is where you will find small snippets from the various settings throughout Wallace Works.

These may be character pieces, setting sketches or anything else. Generally coming out on the third Thursday of the month as part of the news letter they are collected here for those looking to just read the prose.

When You Work For Monsters - Shadow War

It is the third Thursday of the month, checks calendar, yes it is the third Thursday so I’m on time!

Third Thursday means a bit of story for all of you. This is also something of a prequel for my Urban Fantasy series though we’re checking in on a different supporting character. I hope you enjoy this peak at world my world building. I present to you.

When You Work For Monsters

Christian stood outside the door, clipboard in hand and tremors climbing through his skin. He’d asked to be here, he’d needed to be here but now that he stood before the massive brass constructs he wasn’t sure he could cross that threshold. He looked down at the clipboard and the pages affixed to the front. In bright red ink was stamped “TRANSFER REQUEST PENDING”.

He knew what it meant, transfers to work under the doctor had to be ratified in person. It was said no one had ever failed an interview, instead many had walked away once they learned the difficulties that came with the new assignment.

A knife carved out his heart and cast it into the bottomless chasm where she had been.

He knew difficulty, breathing was difficult, living was difficult now.

But if she were here, she would stop him. If you were here I wouldn’t be.

He sighed. His emotions were a storm of ice and wind ragging against fire and steel. Some part of Christian was thankful for that. He’d felt so empty for so long that he didn’t know he could feel things anymore. A sardonic smile twisted his lips.

Slowly, as though chains held his arm to the floor Christian lifted his hand. Palm out, all he had to do was lean forward and press his and to the door. Arcane wards would identify him and open, let him in. It would be a simple thing to just lean forward. So why hesitate?

Because then you’d be a monster.

There it was, clear as a bell. He fought monsters, hunted them down and killed them. But this would make him a monster.

Would it? He wondered. He worked with monsters too, his boss was a monster, both of them were so why was this so different? Why was this a line that should not be crossed?

Because there’s something unnatural about this. Werewolves are born with their abilities. This, this was like becoming a vampire. Adopting the dark to gain power.

But I need power. If he had power then she wouldn’t be dead. He wouldn’t be alone.

He placed his palm to the the door. The brass was cool beneath his palm but only for a moment. Violet light slithered along the door, worming its way between seams and into the ancient mechanisms that animated it. Christian could hear gears older than nations and locks larger than people begin to come apart but before the door opened several pieces pulled together to create words across the frame. ‘VIA AD INFERNUM STERNITUR HONESTE’

The doors swung open into a chamber of dim light and dark shadows. To either side of the entry way were massive glass tubes that held the half dissected bodies of creatures. Something that might have been a ghoul in that one, half a werewolf in another, the open body of a chupacabra, and many, many more creatures besides. Things Christian did not know existed, things he did not want to know existed. And of course there were ‘normal’ bodies. The corpses of humans peeled open and on display like frogs in a science class. At the chamber’s opposite end were three simple things. A table, a bed, and a man.

Of course, in truth, none of those things was simple. The table held surgical tools and a collection of bones. The bed was an operating bed stained with the blood of a thousand surgeries. And the man was the ‘queen’ of the Azurites. The Shadow Thief.

“Mr. Stone,” said Dr. Auguste. “Here for your interview?”

Christian had to force each foot before the other. It was like approaching a wolf as it salivated over your flesh. The doctor extended one hand and Christian offered the clipboard. Long pale fingers that ended in fangs wrapped the clipboard and took it away. Digits with too many segments flipped through the pages as one eye read the information. The other eye remained fixed on Christians’ face.

“All seems to be in order,” concluded the doctor as he set the clipboard down next to the pile of gray bones. “So tell me, Mr. Stone. Why are you here?”

To transfer, he almost said but knew the doctor wanted more than that. “For … power.”

The doctor tilted his head ever so slightly to the side. “No, not quite.”

“To … kill monsters?”

The doctor leaned forward, his lips opening into a smile with too many teeth. “Was that a question?”

Confusion burned away as the anger smoldering within began to fill the void in his heart. “To get revenge.”

“There it is,” agreed Dr. Auguste. He turned to the pile of bones and delicately lifted one into the air. Idly he rolled it between his fingers before returning his attention to Christian. “Honesty, here, is paramount. It is honesty that creates the foundation of all we are. You cannot dispel shadows with lies.”

Christian nodded. “You can’t trust the chain of command if there isn’t honesty.”

“Exactly,” agreed the doctor. “I am certain you have some idea of what I do here. You would not request this, if you didn’t. So allow me to dispel any illusions. We capture creatures, cut them apart to see how they work, and then put pieces of them into our bodies to make use strong enough to kill these monsters. On this table I will cut out that which is human and replace it with something stronger. You will loose your humanity and in its place you will have strength.”

Christian cast his eyes to the pile of slate gray bones. “But I’ll be able to protect them, right? Protect those weaker than me.”

“Yes,” assured Dr. Auguste as he stepped aside clearing the way to the operating bed. “You will be a predator wrapped in the skin of prey. They will never accept you, they will never understand you, they will never thank you. But their lives will be better for it.”

Christian moved to the table and placed his fingers on the cool steel. “I will be a monster.”

“As they say, when you work for monsters …”

Christian lay on the table and exhaled.

Dr. Auguste smiled as he drew a syringe from the folds of his coat. There was a thin prick as the needle was pressed into Christian’s throat and ice suffused his veins. Darkness slowly over came his vision and he had the last thoughts he would ever have as a human. You become one.

Stephen Wallace