November
Small town in California
He sat behind the counter of the cramped store. His hair was sun bleached and his face was tanned from hours in the sun. He had a book open on the counter and a dog-eared French-English dictionary in his hand. The book was an old copy of a book entitled Le Loupe Garou. His brows knit together with concentration. He sighed heavily and put the book down. It was too hard to slog through in a foreign language. He leaned back against the wall behind him.
The shop probably failed to meet all manners of fire codes. The shelves were close together. Along the far wall was hundreds of little apothecary drawers filled with aromatic herbs and such that were meant to be of healing or other nature. There were shelves with jewelry, and candles and incense. There were also books; lots of books stacked everywhere. There was a whole section devoted just to UFO�s. They rested on hand built shelves with raw pine, which added its own wood shop scent to the place. The back of the shop had a pair of overstuffed chairs covered in a worn red paisley pattern.
A coffee machine sat nearby with Styrofoam cups stacked beside it, as well as some mugs. Next to it, an ancient coke machine that distributed 8 oz bottles for a dime rumbled to itself. The walls were hung with decorative charts, some showing the Zodiac; another was a chart of pressure points for acupuncture. Next to him was an ancient brass cash register that was useless for adding things up, and so they had a little solar calculator next to it. He got paid more per hour then he ever sold. As long as his boss/landlord was happy, he wasn�t going to complain.
He listened to the old ceiling creak as Trinity moved around in the apartment above him. It was after ten now; he still had another two hours to go. The shop stayed open until midnight on weekdays, and it stayed open all night on weekends. It may have seemed an odd schedule; but the customers, what few of them there were, preferred it. He looked at his physics book. At least it was in English. Well, some of it. He flipped it open and looked at the vector problems. Boring. They�d spent the entire month of September on the metric system, like they didn�t all know how the metric system worked. And now they were doing vectors. The class sucked. They�d done more business over the weekend, with Holloween coming up, interest in the Occult was up, but most folks wouldn�t even think the store would still be open after ten.
He�d expected to see a regular when the door opened. Instead there was a guy in a long black trench coat and a hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Behind him came two guys that were dressed the same, but had their hoods down. One was bald with tattoos all over his head. The other was overweight and had a short goatee protruding like a hedgehog from his many chins. The tall one kept his back turned and seemed to be looking around. The bald one smiled, and his teeth shown like they were capped with steel, or maybe silver? The fat one walked up to the counter.
�We�re looking for a guy named Davies,� he said. The interior of his mouth was discolored, like he�d just eaten a funky colored slurppy.
�This is his shop, but he�s not here,� Ecks said. His jaw was set; he had a funny vibe coming off of them.
�Who lives upstairs?� the one with his hood up asked.
�I do,� the kid said. Trinity walked across the floor, the floorboards creaking. �With my sister,� he added.
�Tell us where Davies lives,� the fat one said.
�I don�t think he wants any late night visitors,� Ecks told them. The hooded one swung his arm, casually, and toppled one of the bookshelves like it was made of cardboard.
�I think you�ll tell us anyways,� the hooded one said turning around. In the dim lights of the store all Ecks could make out was a black, pointed chin. It shown like plastic in the shop's dim light. Maybe it was some sort of mask.
�Get out before I call the cops,� Ecks said. He picked up the phone, the fat guy slashed out with a knife and cut the cord to the receiver, leaving Ecks holding it as the cord coiled up and sort of bounced. He pushed 911 any ways as he climbed over the counter to cover the move. The fat guy with the knife took a stepped back but then smiled.
�Get the sister,� the hooded one said. The bald one ran through the door marked private, and ran up the stairs.
Ecks tried to punch the guy with the knife, but got a gash across his arm, which bled freely. The fat guy was laughing. Ecks couldn�t believe how fast he was with the knife. The door opened and the bald guy had returned down the stairs with Trinity's arm twisted behind her. She was wearing a red and black nightshirt. Her black hair was wet still from a recent shower. She looked over at Ecks holding his bleeding arm. �Ryan, are you alright?� She asked.
�He�s fine,� the hooded figure said. Trinity�s eyes widened. �Clint?� she asked.
�Well, well, you remember me. I think I know you. Amy or something. I think you went by Trinity.� He flipped the hood back and his face was black, but not skin black. It was shiny like the skin of a beetle. There were segments around his jaw line and black shields covered his eyes, unless they were his eyes. �You�ve changed. Let your hair grow out, put on a few pounds. Looks nice.�
She stared at him. �What have you done?�
�Where is Davies?� the guy who Trinity said was Clint asked.
�What do you want him for?� she asked.
�I�m going to kill him,� Clint said pulling off his gloves and walking up to her. His fingers were clad in sharp armor and came to points. He ran his finger along her cheek and blood began to flow down the scrape. The bald guy with the tattoos was laughing.
�No!� Ecks said. Lightning seemed to erupt around him as he stepped forward. It knocked Clint into one of the shelves. The bald guy and the fat guy were surprised, as it didn�t effect either of them. Ecks kicked the guy with the knife to little effect. The flashing light of the cop car made a difference though. They both looked out the windows. Clint got up and ignored it. He came towards Ecks, and pushed against the lightning. He pulled his hand back like it was burned. Ecks stepped up next to Trinity to make sure she was fully within it.
The shop door opened. The cop looked at the scene. �What the fuck?� he asked as he pulled out his gun. Ecks grabbed Trinity and pulled her to the floor. The cop shot the fat guy with the knife as she spun out of the bald guy�s grasp. The bald guy let her go as he swung a sawed off shotgun out from under his trench coat. He got two in the chest before he could even bring the shotgun up. Ecks hit the hard pine floor as Trinity fell on top of him. Then Clint strode towards the police officer. He was shot over and over again and seemed to barely notice. Then Clint slashed the guy across the neck. Blood gushed from the wound with surges of the pulse from his heart. The cop dropped his gun and held his throat like he was choking. He fell to his knees and then onto his face.
Clint turned around and Ecks looked up at him. There were dark stains on the sweatshirt. �This is only a minor delay. I�ll be back, and I�ll kill Davies as my Lord commands.� He smiled, and then coughed up some black fluid. �Since when did cops carry armor piercing bullets?� he asked. His smile faded as he seemed to come apart into a mass of cockroaches that scurried across the floor and out the open door, leaving a lump of clothes behind.
�We don�t tell anyone what just happened,� Trinity said getting up. �We just say they tried to rob the store, and one guy slashed the cop and ran away. Don�t tell anyone he," she paused, "did what he did. Is that clear.�
�Yes, absolutely,� Ecks said. �Why aren�t you freaked out?�
�Clint�s been a demon worshiper for a long time. Looks like he got in touch with one. Don�t tell your little internet friends about Clint OK. This is work for real mystics like Persephoney and me, not a bunch of amateurs.�
�Some of them know what they are talking about, I�m sure of it.� Ecks s
aid. �Is this the same Clint that killed Eugene?�
�Yes, Ryan, it is.�
�Well, then I should tell Chainsaw, I mean Stan. Eugene was his friend too and he�s supposed to be really knowledgeable, and skilled. That's how they talk about him. Well except for one guy that he seems to be feuding with, but every one seems to argue with that guy.�
�Yes, I suppose Stan should be told,� She said.
The other officer on duty arrived a few minutes later. He just shook his head and called the hospitol. He'd seen worse. It was getting harder and harder to find kids willing to become cops around there.
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