a flash series part 5 of 8 by David G Shrock

See Dunston Monster Contents for series information or back to Part 4.

Tabitha

Snow blanketed the forest, large flakes flying sideways turned tree trunks white. The storm arrived before the sun trapping the land in twilight. Wind bit Sebastian’s face and threatened to rip his hat from head. With one hand he held his hat while he tucked the other under coat, fingers pressed into armpits for warmth. Every few strides he switched hands.

Tabitha walked behind, the revolver tucked within her folded arms. Frost stuck to her entire right side, hair frozen against her cheek. Under the darkened sky, her eyes held a soft glow. In darkness those orbs simmered like burning coals.

As the narrow road descended, winding through the forest, the roar of a river grew. Rounding a bend, the river came into view splashing over rocks into a pool. Water lapped up onto the end of the road. On the opposite side, the road continued.

Jaw unhinging, Tabitha set her cruel gaze on the river. She shook her head.

The river appeared passable for horses in better weather, but not by foot in the freezing cold. Wind biting his nose, Sebastian searched for shelter. Spotting a group of large trees on the left side of the road near the riverbank, he pointed. Tabitha nodded her agreement, and they bounded into the trees. Finding ground clear of snow beneath a heavy canopy, they squatted against the tree trunks protected from the wind. Sebastian took up two trunks. Wind squeezed between them finding his back. Tabitha snuggled between two roots of the largest tree.

Tabitha laughed. “No bridge.”

“We shouldn’t have come.” Cupping hands over face, Sebastian breathed warmth into his palms. He thought about returning, had insisted on it several times, but Tabitha had urged him on at gunpoint. Now Dunston was too long a walk in the storm.

Tabitha’s smile faded. “I told you. I can’t go back.”

Thomas had made it clear the conditions for a warm welcome: find the monster, return with Tabitha. He only had a name, Joseph Conrad, a killer, his father’s killer according to Father Young. Sebastian was hardly ranger material, held hostage by a woman. He felt small.

Looking over, Sebastian saw something that froze his blood. The cold could play with the mind, but he felt certain he saw true. He gazed at her open mouth gaping at the river. It was plain as the frost sticking to her dark hair. Her two top canines, slender and pointed, met the bottom pair, serpentine fangs. Realizing he stared, he pulled his gaze up. The embers burned like hellfire within her irises.

He recalled the warning. The monster appeared at night.

Two dead and one missing Thomas had told him. He had assumed Tabitha was the missing one.

Tabitha ran her tongue over pointed teeth.

“Are you?” It felt wrong, but he wanted to know about her. He wanted her to tell him that she was a person like him.

“A demon?” Tabitha giggled, sounding like a young girl imitating the devil. “Church boy.” She set the revolver on her lap, rubbed her hands together, and shivered maintaining a coy smile.

Sebastian shook his head. Her smile relieved him, but he frowned feeling guilty about asking. In all the stories elders told children, the monsters were easy to identify. Big teeth, strange eyes, or excessive size marked the monsters. Gazing at Tabitha, he wondered if there was some truth to those stories.

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian summoned courage. “Are any others in Dunston like you?”

Her smile faded. “Besides my brother? No.”

Sebastian nodded at the clue, the first victim was normal.

Tabitha flashed an evil grin. “Frightened?”

He nodded.

“You ought to be.” She held up the revolver. “I have the gun.” Lowering the weapon to the ground, finger on the handle, she hugged her knees. Her tongue licked over a fang. “Many of us don’t bite.”

Listening, Sebastian watched her eyes. He stared at those luminescent orbs feeling like a child gazing upon strangeness, and he realized how little he knew about the world.

“After the first.” Tabitha rested her cheek on her knee. “That’s when the monster talk started. Nobody suspected the two of us. Not at first. And when I saw you approaching the cabin, I thought you were him. Rhemus the Giant come to take me away.”

Breaking his gaze, Sebastian hung his head.

“What was he like? Your father.”

He felt like he knew little about his father, less since the funeral. “As a boy I imagined he caught train robbers, brought killers to justice. A hero.” Cupping hands, he blew into his palms. “Apparently he hunted people like you.”

“Demon hunter.” Tabitha frowned.

“My apologies.” Sebastian gazed at Tabitha no longer seeing a young woman. He had assumed she was the missing one, but he realized Thomas had demanded her return. Perhaps Thomas had only suspected Tabitha.

Tucking hands under his coat, Sebastian buried his fingers within his armpits. His fingertips prickled with pain. “What are you plans once we reach Roan?”

“Revenge.”

“A sin,” said Sebastian. He chuckled. “That’s what Father Young taught me.”

“We’re all sinners.” Tabitha wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging them, and rocked on her heels. “The killer. Me. Your father. Young. My brother’s bad habit.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. There was still one missing: Sheriff Haas.

Tabitha snickered. “And you sitting there picturing my bare breasts.”

Chuckling, Sebastian felt his insides burn, and he coughed sending pain shooting through his chest. The cold attacking the moisture within his clothes could mean death.

Tabitha sat up and fondled the revolver, running her fingers over the barrel. “Does that make us all evil?”

Sebastian shook his head. He had to convince her to turn herself in, confess or testify. She must abandon revenge. Learning more about his father’s death could wait. “Not if we ask for His forgiveness.”

“Look!” Tabitha stood and pointed with the revolver. “A way across the river.”

Leaning over, Sebastian peered beneath the branches spotting a row of rocks extending across the river. They appeared uneven and too far apart for anyone but a man of his size. “It doesn’t look good.”

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Continue to Part 6.

a flash series part 4 of 8 by David G Shrock

See Dunston Monster Contents for series information or back to Part 3.

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“A priest,” said Tabitha for the fifth time.

Reaching up, Sebastian lifted Tabitha from the boulder and dropped her on the ground beside him.

“Eyes of gold.” Tabitha threw up her arms and marched ahead. The deer path took a gentle turn through the trees, easy to follow even under the darkening sky. “He is his mother’s father. A ridiculous riddle!”

“Misdirection,” said Sebastian. Reaching out, he pushed back the tree limbs. Tabitha slipped through easy, but at his height, the branches became a tangle. “Only that last part mattered.”

“And your little message,” said Tabitha.

Father Young was a highly respected elder in the church and a creature with gold eyes. The riddle was also a warning to forget the Rhemus profession.

Calling over her shoulder Tabitha said, “What was that about your father? Do you believe Father Young ordered death for his own people?”

Sebastian stuffed his hands into his coat. The moist air lost warmth, and night fell like a candle flame exhausting the wax of day. “Criminals perhaps. I don’t know. Back home I had assumed he meant my father hunted them all down like animals.”

“Like demons.”

“And perhaps he had.” Sebastian shrugged. “But under Father Young’s orders.”

The forest opened up. Moonlight revealed the Brook Grove-Roan Road. Tabitha turned north marching on the muddy road. Glancing south, Sebastian spotted the firelight, evening roast at Dunston. Looking back, he watched the long fur coat drifting away.

“Wait.” Sebastian thumbed over his shoulder. “Dunston is this way.”

“Not heading for Dunston.”

In four great strides Sebastian caught up with the woman and grasped her shoulder. She spun around, the coat slipping from her shoulder revealing bare flesh. Catching sight of her breast, Sebastian released the coat and covered his face.

Boots sloshed through the mud, Tabitha marched away.

Uncovering his eyes, Sebastian spotted the woman scrambling up a slope above the road. On firmer ground her pace increased stomping over rocks and twigs. Walking, he caught her again. One of his steps matched every two of hers.

“My task,” said Sebastian, “is to escort you back to Dunston. I’ll aid the law in finding the killer.”

Tabitha shook her head, a coy look in her eye. And a sparkle. Fractal shards of golds and browns caught the moonlight flickering like a fire.

Preparing for a chase, Sebastian unfastened his coat allowing more room. “I’m not about to let you walk alone.”

“How sweet,” said Tabitha. She gazed up at him. The moonlight turned her face white. “Will you escort me to Roan?

The long solemn look he remembered from the cabin, gone, replaced by determination. Breath streamed from her nostrils. Vigor poured from her brown eyes. He stood frozen, enchanted by her confidence. Capturing the moonlight, her eyes were brilliant. The orbs told him she would not peacefully return to Dunston. He reached out.

Tabitha twirled away, and Sebastian grasped her arm. She slipped free from the coat and ran. The pale moonlit flesh blinding, Sebastian turned his head aside. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the nude woman disappear into the dark woods.

Fur coat in hand, Sebastian ran into the woods. Catching movement, he stormed in the direction batting branches aside. The forest dripped, cool drops draining down the back of his neck. His own coat protected his arms from the wet branches, and he raised the fur coat protecting his face from the prickly needles. Spotting the pale form, he burst through trees and slid to a stop.

In a clearing stood Tabitha wearing only tall boots. “It’s rather cold out here.”

Turning gaze aside, Sebastian approached holding the fur coat out. “What’s in Roan?”

“Your father’s killer.” She slipped into the coat and pulled it closed.

“Your brother’s killer,” said Sebastian. “The Dunston Monster. Is that what Father Young told you?”

Tabitha studied him, her eyes roving up and down. She nodded.

“You were never abducted. You left on our own accord looking for the killer on Myrtle Ridge.” Sebastian folded his arms. “Who is he?”

“Joseph Conrad.”

Sebastian looked at a pawn. Father Young had asked him to return to university, forget his father, but had given Tabitha the name and location of the killer. The pawn played enticing him after his father’s legacy. Curiosity about the killer captured him, but the danger was too high for a young woman.

“I see that look.” Tabitha opened her coat.

Wincing, Sebastian looked away. The vision of bare breasts sent his head spinning.

Tabitha pulled her coat closed, and giggled.

“Please stop that.” He felt a smile on his face and let it grow.

“A boy, aren’t you?” Tabitha raised a revolver, thumb pulled hammer back, a round clicked into the chamber.

Smile fading, Sebastian stared at his father’s revolver pointed at him. Disbelieving, he glanced down and pulled his coat aside revealing the empty holster at his hip. Disarmed so easily, doubt of catching a killer swarmed over him. He looked up at the barrel, up at the cruel gaze, her burning eyes. A shiver attacked.

There was no mistaking it, the orbs glowed. As Tabitha stepped back out of the moonlight, her eyes intensified, red embers burning within each pupil, like hellfire burning within—an unholy sight.

“Stupid boy,” said Tabitha, whispering. “To Roan if you please.”

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Continue to Part 5

a flash series part 2 of 8 by David G Shrock

See Dunston Monster Contents for series information or start at Part 1.

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Fog drenched the air moistening evergreen trunks, leafless bushes, and flowers. Sebastian marveled at the late autumn flowers blooming on the mountainside above Dunston. They seemed to relish the cold moist air. Everything was wet: his hat, his coat, his trousers. Wetness even crawled his skin beneath his clothing. The forest licked him constantly.

After the shotgun welcoming, Sebastian had only asked a few questions, enough to get him started. Thomas had assured him that Myrtle Ridge was the most likely location to find the Dunston Monster. Nobody hunted here. None of the Dunston residents ever came here. According to Thomas, the ridge was cursed and the best place to start searching for their missing Tabitha.

“Two dead and one missing,” said Sebastian, going over his mental notes. An apparent miscount stopped him in his tracks. The sheriff was also missing. The city of Jefferson was the county seat. He supposed Thomas had only included Dunston residents, and other matters likely occupied Sheriff Haas. Sebastian kept the missing count at one and prayed the dead count remained the same.

photo by Staci

The game trail veered up over slick rocks into a tangle of branches clawing at Sebastian. Roots reached out snagging his boots.

Peering up the incline, he spotted something blue on the dirt wall. He dug his boot into the dirt, reached up, and grasped a root. Pulling himself up, he scaled higher. He reached, snatched the blue cloth tearing it from the roots. Splotches of dirt covered the wet rag that was once a long skirt.

The thought of the missing woman shot strength into him, and he scrambled up the hillside. He grasped at roots and rocks nearly running on all fours. Lungs burned, and he coughed a cloud of vapor.

At the top, Sebastian found a pale rocky ledge overlooking the clouds. Sunlight felt wonderful on his face. He stood peering down at the mountainside disappearing into the sea of fog, Myrtle Ridge an island. Dunston was somewhere down there buried within the fog. Beyond, another mountain broke the clouds.

A trail led from the ledge climbing higher. Clouds clawed at the side of Myrtle Ridge consuming trees. Sebastian shivered and pulled his coat closed. The monster appeared at night, Thomas had made clear with slow words. And with the fog, according to the boy. The ridge was quiet as a grave.

Marching into the woods he followed the worn trail up a gentle slope into the fog. His boots crunched needles and knocked on rocks. Nestled against a cluster of trees, covered in moss, a wood cabin sat at the end of the path. Before the open doorway, a young woman wearing a dark fur coat stood watching him.

“I see they sent a giant,” said the woman, scowling.

Sebastian stood silent. Surprise took his words. He was not expecting a quiet welcome on a cursed ridge, perhaps a grumpy man wielding a weapon, but not a young woman.

The woman folded her arms. “Are you dumb, giant?”

“Rhemus.” He coughed. “My name is Sebastian Rhemus.”

“Kettle’s on.” She disappeared inside leaving the door open.

It almost felt like a trap. Opening his coat, Sebastian uncovered the revolver—his father’s gun—resting in the holster at his hip. He removed his hat and ducked inside. He stood, head bumping ceiling, and hunched over. A single bed in disarray stood on the right, a square table consumed the left side of the cabin, and behind it a small stove burned wood. Rot ate at the log walls, webs clung to the corners, and the table leaned against the wall on two broken legs. The lamp on the table released a pungent oil, clouds of decay clung to the glass, the flame cast a sickly green.

The young woman removed a copper kettle from the stove and poured steaming water into two gleaming white cups. A flowery scent pushed aside the rot. Pressing down on the nearest chair, Sebastian tested its strength. The seat groaned but felt firm. The woman sat on the other chair.

“Thank you,” said Sebastian. Slowly, he sat down. The chair complained, creaking. He held out the blue skirt. “Tabitha?”

Nodding, she took the skirt and tossed it over her shoulder onto the bed next to a pile of clothes including undergarments. Watching the table, she sipped her tea.

“Thomas,” said Sebastian. He held the teacup warming his hands. “He tells me there’s a monster.”

Frowning, Tabitha set her cup down. Her eyes caught the light, glimmering a fractal-scape of various browns from golden to near black. “If you’re looking for monsters, I suggest you look in Dunston.”

“How do you mean?”

“The monster Thomas speaks of is not a monster at all.”

“I figured as much.”

Tabitha frowned. “You’re new at this, aren’t you?”

“Pardon?”

“Are all giants this stupid?”

Feeling like he missed something, Sebastian peered around the cabin, abandoned until recent activity. Her wet clothes discarded on the bed, Tabitha wore an old fur coat belonging to the previous occupant. The open door gave him a view of the fog drenched woods. No monsters.

“You’ll not find my brother’s killer here,” said Tabitha.

Sebastian saw her loss on her long face understanding her disposition at last, and he felt her sorrow. His mother’s funeral still gripped his thoughts. He felt his own face sag.

Tabitha sipped her tea while she stared at the table. Or through the table, her briliant brown eyes appeared unfocused. “Outside,” she said. “Father Young has been expecting you.”

Sebastian stared at Tabitha, uncertain if he heard the words correctly. He recalled the night Father Young had disappeared, the revelation of those strange gold eyes.

Lurching from the chair Sebastian stood, head banged a cross beam, and he stooped out the doorway throwing his hat on his head. He searched the tree consuming fog.

A shadow in the mist, the form took shape. First the balding head appeared and then the torso wrapped in black. Father Young peered through his round dark spectacles. A sneer cut his face.

Sebastian stood, gawking at the man in disbelief.

“Greetings, Sebastian,” said Father Young. “Shouldn’t you be at university?”

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Continue to Part 3.

a flash series part 1 of 8 by David G Shrock

See Dunston Monster Contents page for series information.

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Late evening air held its breath. An ammunition round popped into shotgun barrel freezing blood. Menacing eyes glared down the length of the barrel. Oozing around legs, fog licked the gunman.

Sebastian followed the instruction, he raised his hands in the air. His heart beat faster. This was not the first time he faced someone threatening his life, a hazard of being so big, but experience didn’t make it easier. His gaze swept the road. Lights glowed within the fog: a nearby lantern swung gently in an unseen hand, a candle illuminated a window, and deep within the murk a wriggling glow of a fire sparked. He could make out the dark shape of a second man, a boy maybe, a few feet behind the gunman. The others he heard, a murmur among boots shifting in the muddy road.

Another barking order, and Sebastian found himself taking a step closer, boot squishing mud. Even with his long coat closed tight, he shivered. His revolver pressed against his hip, beneath the coat, beyond reach.

“Look at the size of him,” said the boy. Sloshing mud, he scrambled back, fog consuming him.

Sebastian grinned, a reflex pulling at muscles. Whenever he found fear in the faces of others, a warm smile put everyone at ease. He reminded himself that the people of Dunston feared a menace. They needed reassurance. His smile burned fog from his face. His heart raced on.

“Why ya here?” The gunman’s voice sounded old, worn. His aim drooped to the giant’s legs.

“The church,” said Sebastian. The truth was his shield, and he prayed it held strong. “Father Gustav sent me.”

“Walk all the way here?”

“Took a train to Brook Grove. I walked from there.” Sebastian searched the fog. Only the gunman stood out. Dark shapes grew out of the murk, buildings huddled on both sides of the road. “They didn’t have a horse big enough to carry me.”

“Reckon not for a giant.”

“Please,” said Sebastian. This was his second assignment for Gustav. The Warton Haunt had turned out to be a case of simple superstition. Already this one set his nerves on fire. “I’m here to help.”

Shadows shifted within the fog, the light from the hidden fire at the far end of the road dimmed and brightened again. The scent of roast pork hung in the air.

“It comes with the fog,” said the boy. He sloshed closer emerging from the mist. “A monster.”

“Hush boy!” The gunman spat. Teeth gritting, he raised the shotgun higher aiming for the huge torso. “I reckon this giant is with our monster.”

Father Gustav had mentioned very little, a murder, an unholy terror. Sebastian remained still trying his best to maintain a pleasant expression. His heart thumped. “The sheriff,” he said. “Father Gustav mentioned the sheriff expects my arrival.”

Mud sloshed, shadows moved within the fog, the residents of Dunston crept closer. Murmurs, the fog swallowed their hushed voices. The gunman’s finger crept over the trigger, and his hand shook. The boy glanced at the gunman, eyes growing big.

“Missing,” said the gunman, whispering. His hands trembled. “No sheriff here.”

Sebastian knew nothing more dangerous than a frightened man with a gun. The fog was no help. He wondered how his father, Rhemus the Giant, had dealt with situations like this. A smile and a reassuring voice he imagined. Giants were only good for three things: hefting big loads, reaching high places, and threatening others. Sebastian felt comfortable with the first two. The third he avoided.

“Allow me to prove myself,” said Sebastian, uncertain where the words came from. Channeling his father’s spirit, he supposed. “I will find your monster.”

“Tabitha,” said a woman, a shape within the fog.

The gunman gritted his teeth. “Hush Verna!”

“Thomas!” Verna pushed through the mist and stood behind the gunman. “Give the giant a chance.”

Sebastian nodded feeling his heart thumping into his throat. He saw kindness within the woman’s eyes, and focused on her as a connection. “My name is Sebastian Rhemus. Pleasure meeting you, Verna.”

“Look at him him, Thomas,” said Verna, smiling. “He has the face of an angel.”

Eyes narrow, Thomas studied Sebastian. “Like the devil, I reckon.” His voice was quiet. His hands recovered steadying the shotgun.

Heart thundering, Sebastian focused his mind on a calm summer day, imagining the warmth on his face. He smiled at Verna, and seeing her return the smile he found his heart slowing.

“Thomas.” Verna scowled at the gunman.

“We have two dead and one missing,” said Thomas. He lowered the shotgun. “Cry my pardon if I seem anxious.”

Sebastian lowered his hands, and his heartbeat fell.

“Very well, giant. Find our monster.” Thomas licked his lips. Eyes narrowing, he glared at Sebastian with suspicion. “Return our Tabitha.”

Folding hands together, Sebastian nodded into a bow. “I will.”

“Only then will we welcome you to Dunston.”

Sebastian wanted to stay, reassure them, investigate, but part of him liked the idea of getting away, clear of the shotgun’s reach and beyond the creeping fog. Besides, the missing woman needed him. He thought best to keep the questions brief, focus on finding their Tabitha before it was too late.

Thomas nodded over his shoulder. “Start with Myrtle Ridge. Where the monster dwells.”

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Continue reading Part 2: Tabitha