CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A cold wind, as chilling as death itself, rippled across Justin’s face. He stirred slightly, unaware that his soft bed was no longer underneath him. Gurgled hissing forced him to a sitting position. Is this a strange dream?
Still, the lingering sense of immense danger hung close. Somehow, there’s something about evil you can smell, feel, and taste.
The hotel room had disappeared, replaced by a grayish, barren desert. Spider cracks covered the dry ground. Ugly flashes of lightening, followed by booming thunder, awakened the black sky.
Justin didn’t like this place.
How did I get here?
Careful to disguise his shallow breathing, he took five tentative steps. It’s so cold.
“Well, Justin, I was wondering when you’d arrive.”
Justin spun around. His gaze met with a very familiar face. “Am I looking into a mirror?”
“No,” his enemy sneered, “You’re not.”
Justin screamed and stumbled backwards. His evil twin laughed cruelly. “What’s the matter? Scared of your own shadow?”
“Who are you?! Where am I?!” Justin shouted. Don’t panic you idiot.
“Welcome to the Asmodeous Dimension.”
“T-the what?” Justin realized his knees were beginning to grow shaky.
“The Asmodeous Dimension. A realm between this life and the next. A place from where mortals don’t escape alive.” Lightening flashed from white to purple. “My name is Randall,” the ghost continued, “Your dark side. Everyone has a dark side to them. Didn’t you know that?”
From the ground, four creepy shadows rose, materializing into people. Justin’s throat closed when he saw their faces.
Randall made the introductions. “These are Christopher, James, Joseph, and Joshua.”
Christopher’s eyes hungrily sized Justin up. “I suggest you run. The game is always so much more fun when your prey is playing.”
“This is a realm where you are hunted,” Randall described, “I suppose you could even say it’s a battle between the good and evil inside your soul.”
“BUT HOW DID I GET HERE?!” Justin shrieked desperately. James smelt his terror, for he moved in closer. “Chances are, another demon sent you here on purpose. Often, demons send their rivals to the Asmodeous Dimension to basically finish themselves off. Simply put them to sleep, and channel them through their dreams to this forsaken place.”
RUN! RUN! RUN! THEY’LL FIND YOU!
The chase began.
***
Tap…tap-tap…tap…tap-tap…tap…
Wick blew air out between his cheeks. “Lance, must we drag this defiance out any longer than necessary? We’re in New Orleans, NOW TELL US WHAT THE GEM LOOKS LIKE AND WHERE IT’S HIDDEN!”
Lance flinched. “Um, it’s…uh…blue and…it looks like…well…a gem. And it’s…buried in a tomb in a cemetery.” Jeez, how long until they figure out I really don’t know what they’re talking about?
Feather and Gabriel, Wick’s two companioning Lost Souls, whispered amongst each other.
“Does Wick believe what this innocent says?”
“I’m not 100% certain. I mean, listen to the tone of his voice.”
“I read his mind, and he honestly can’t tell us a darn thing.”
“But Wick told us Lance is putting up a mind block.”
“Perhaps Wick’s wrong.”
“Wick wouldn’t make a dumb mistake like that.”
“He might, since in 3 days, the Master’s spirit will be too weak to regenerate. The gem will be useless.”
“Wick would act more careful since we’re on a time limit.”
“Let’s stop arguing, okay? Wick’s gonna send us to follow JC in a few minutes.”
***
On a normal day, the festive city of New Orleans excited JC. The smells of Cajun food, Mardi Gras symbols, outdoor restaurants, junk shops, street performers, fortunetellers, and tourists littered the scene, creating fun-filled chaos. But his mission wasn’t destined to be carefree. It was to fulfill a terrible purpose, one that JC dreaded.
Johnny sighed as JC turned the rental car left into the parking lot of the mall area. “Now what? Did the kidnappers leave instructions?”
“If they did, I’d tell you,” JC snapped. Johnny reeled back. “Calm down. Concentrate on the fact that in a few hours, Lance can be returned safely.”
“Don’t trust Lost Souls to keep their word.” JC’s heart skipped a beat when the cell phone rang. Johnny froze. More ringing. Nobody dared move. Finally Johnny pushed it in JC’s direction. “Since they designated you as the mediator, you answer it!”
JC hesitated. The ringing grew shrillier, more insistent. Trembling fingers, he hit the button. “Hello?”
“So I see you’re here. Did you have a nice flight?”
“Decent. Where’s Lance?” JC demanded, suddenly remembering the No Demand rule, “I mean, may I please speak to him?”
“In time if all goes well. Johnny is to walk inside the mall and sit by the fountains across from Abercrombie & Fitch. That’s where you’ll meet him when your assignment is done. Your assignment: go down to New Orleans Cemetery. Weave through the grounds until you come to the rather large tomb decorated by an angel. Wait there to receiver further orders. Goodbye Jace.”
“HEY!” JC shouted before Wick hung up. He banged his fist against the steering wheel. “Darn!”
***
Andrew Trystal climbed down the narrow steps. Raindrops pelted the windows of the bookshop. The clicking of a calculator showed Honey was still figuring finances. As Andrew approached the entrance to the stairwell, a young man who he didn’t recognize appeared.
“Hi Mr. Trystal,” he greeted, “My name is Joey Fatone, a good friend of Honey’s.” Andrew adjusted his glasses. “Oh, in that case, good morning. Is coffee brewing?”
“Yeah. How many cups should I pour?”
“Son, two cups and I’ll be swinging from the chandeliers.”
Honey abandoned the papers and was standing on a ladder, shelving a new shipment of mystery novels. “Good morning, Andrew. Seth brought three new boxes earlier.”
“Excellent. Have you wakened Ramona? She needs breakfast.” Honey smiled, although Andrew failed to notice the devilish gleam in her eyes. “Of course. I’ll see that she’s fed.” Joey subtly gave her the thumbs up sign.
Andrew buttoned his coat. “I’ll be gone for a couple of hours. Hold the fort while I’m away.” The shop bell rang as Ramona’s last hope for survival exited the bookstore. Gandor and Emerald dropped their Joey/Honey personas and set to work.
“Is the plan in motion?”
“You bet.”
“Nice job Gandor, sending Justin to the Asmodeous Dimension.”
“Haven’t done that in awhile.”
“But you’re still a pro.”
“Never mind. Lock the doors and windows.”
***
Ramona shot up in bed, her skin in a cold sweat. Hair hung around her face. She scrambled out of bed with that familiar aching sensation in her bones. The evil has found me! IT’S FOUND ME! I’ve got to leave!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Quivering, she threw on her clothes from the previous night. Thump. Thump. Thump.
A shadow silhouetted underneath the door crack. “ Good…morning…Ramona…sleep…well?”
A horrible vision passed before her eyes, one of her corpse lying in a coffin.
“We’re…gonna…get…you…” Gandor cackled, raking his talons along the wood. Ramona let out a half-moan, half-scream, then scrambled over the furniture towards the bathroom.
The entire room slowly started swirling, churning a faint queasiness in her stomach. Gandor and Emerald were messing with her mind, distorting reality to make escape difficult.
Lance…can you hear me…I don’t know if I’ll live long enough to rescue you…don’t let them get to the gem…
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chris groaned softly. “Oh man.” After barging into Justin’s hotel room and discovering he wasn’t there, he called virtually every place he could think of. No one had seen him.
Somehow, in his gut, he knew the Lost Souls had something to do with Justin’s vanishing. The very thought of it made Chris feel sick. To top it all off, he couldn’t find Joey either.
He scooted off the edge of the water fountain in front of Philadelphia Library, when a frazzled old man bumped into him. It was no accident.
“Come with me!” He ordered gravely, “We must go back to my bookshop to save Ramona. Your friend Joey is going to finish her any second.”
During the taxi ride, Andrew explained the situation and his true identity, leaving Chris utterly baffled.
***
Ramona’s shaking hands managed to lock the bathroom door. Her shoulder blades tensed when somebody’s deep, raspy breathing sent shudders down her spine. Fear choked her throat, because the bathroom had been empty when she’d arrived.
Holding her own breath, Ramona turned around, eyes widening.
The shadow man, the same dark figure who’d attacked Chris and Justin, ran his hand over her face.
“RAMONA…RAMONA…RAMONA…”
Terror froze Ramona. She couldn’t move. Never in her life had she encountered such a strange force. It had evil written all over its face. Actually, it didn’t have a face.
WHACK!
Gandor and Emerald stood on top of the splintered remains of the bathroom door. “Well done,” Emerald congratulated the shadow man.
Though hardly relevant, Ramona sputtered, “What is it?”
“Shadow men are defaced Lost Souls,” Gandor explained, “They disobeyed Kujaur, and as a result, were reduced to shadows. Maybe they aren’t near as powerful, they possess certain qualities handy for capturing innocents. They suck out their life forces.”
The shadow man wrapped its hands around Ramona’s throat. Immediately, what breath she possessed was sucked from her body. She grew weak, unable to find the strength to fight. The shadow man began glowing softly.
Just when her knees collapsed, Andrew Trystal and Chris Kirpatrick burst into the room. Gandor paused sheepishly. “Hey Chris.” Chris didn’t seem surprised to find his ‘best friend’ caught in the middle of the mess. “Give up the act Gandor,” he growled, “I know you’re not Joey.”
Gandor smirked. “Well get used to it.” Andrew shoved Emerald aside. “Don’t pretend to be the girl I hired,” he glared, “I knew who you were the minute you came.”
Emerald and Gandor frowned. If Andrew wasn’t fooled by their act, then why stay with the game? Obviously he had a plan. Best to retreat and return with a vengeance.
The three spirits disappeared. Ramona lay unconscious on the bathroom floor. Chris picked her up, carrying her to Andrew’s car.
While asleep, Ramona dreamt of her grandfather. He died when she was seven, but she’d always been his favorite granddaughter. Sleepily opening her eyes halfway, Ramona stared at Andrew. Through her blurry vision, he somewhat resembled her dead grandfather…
Andrew, who are you?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JC waited impatiently beside the historic tomb in New Orleans Cemetery, watching a funeral from the distance and listening to the mellow funeral march of the jazz band.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
He answered his cell phone. “Hello?”
Click.
Feather and Gabriel popped out from each side of the tomb. Gabriel slapped his hand over JC’s mouth. Feather effortlessly removed the stone slab covering the tomb.
JC didn’t have time to struggle before they threw him into the tomb, slamming the door shut. Stale darkness enveloped him, highlighted by the stench of three rotting corpses keeping him company. JC screeched, “HELP!”
Suddenly he smelt the faint scent of gasoline. Had Gabriel soaked the tomb?
Outside, under the grayish sky, Feather lit a match, throwing it against the tomb. Normally, a single match wouldn’t light stone, but with a touch of magic, the tomb was set ablaze.
JC remained trapped inside. No air. No light. No hope to survive.