Authors: JD Lovil
Tags: #murder, #magic, #sorcery, #monsters, #parallel worlds, #tyr, #many worlds theory, #quantum jumping, #heimdall
I don’t think werewolves travel
by wormholes.” Said a cute little freckled red-head that was
scanning nearby titles, and obviously snooping. “They would have a
logistics problem. Every time they entered the wormhole, they would
lose sight of the full moon, and then they would revert to human
Yeah, but think how horrifying it
would be for the wormhole to open up in front of you, and to see
them transforming to furry murder machines in front of your eyes,
just before you get ate.” Tom joked. “Also, they could transport
themselves to a planet with no moon, or one that has a full moon
all the time.”
This was just the start to a long and
wonderful afternoon at the bookstore, and then later, back at Tom’s
motel room. Even Bailey was enjoying himself, although he wisely
refrained from the consumption of alcohol when the party entered
that phase. After the social and biochemical necessities, Tom had
the opportunity to discover for himself that Vicki (that was her
name) was an actual red-head. After a careful and energetic
inspection of Vicki, they eventually settled down into a state of
slumber in the bed.
Tom is sitting in front of a
crackling campfire, watching the flames dance in front of his eyes.
Across the fire sits a large man with red hair and a beard who is
so tall that he looks slender. He is wearing some sort of leather
garment with multiple layers in areas that suggest it is some sort
of leather armor. Beside him is a spear made all of a gleaming
silver metal, stuck upright in the ground with the point aimed at
Heaven. The man is missing his right hand. It seemed to Tom that he
should know the man, but he didn’t.
Who did you say that you were,
again?” Tom asks.
You mortals have such short
memories.” The Man says. “I am Tyr, son of Odin, son of Bor, son of
Buri, calfed by Audhumla. I have saved the worlds of man a thousand
times in the last five thousand years, the last time in the company
of a great host of gods and walkers and workers of
I don’t know the name Tyr, and
Audhumla sounds to be a hefty lady, but I have heard the name Odin
before.” Tom said. “Was he named after the Norse god?”
Not named after, He is the
Alfadur, who gave his eye at the well of Mimir, who hung upon the
Worldtree for nine days and nine nights, who founded the city of
Asgard, and who guards the nine worlds against the creatures of
chaos that would bring on the final winter.”
He sounds like a happening dude.
So why are you here, Tyr, what do you want of me?”
I want nothing from you, Watcher.
I have a message and a gift for you. I will see you in the world in
a few days. Here is the gift that I give you, the blade of
ManeKnivblad, which you will need soon. Your hands will soon be
blooded, and the blade will dispatch one whose soul is fire, then
one whose soul is a wolf.” Tyr says, and gives Tom a long silver
knife. “Like all Watchers, you are blessed to be removed, and
cursed by it also. Take care, and I will see you soon on the path
Tom woke up and took a moment to remember his
circumstances. He remembered Vicki, and looked about the motel room
eagerly for her. He didn’t see anything, and when he rubbed his
eyes to clear them, there was something thick and sticky on his
hands. He focused his eyes, and saw that his hands were covered in
cold and congealing blood, at that stage where it was significantly
tacky when he brought his fingers together. He smelled the
overpowering coppery smell of the blood. He had a flash of concern
for Vicki, and got up, washed up his hands at the sink, and started
looking around for her.
Finally, he found her. She was wrapped up in a
blanket, lying in the back of the van, with her throat cut and
very, very dead. Bailey was in the van too, but he was very much
alive, sleeping in the front seat. Tom concentrated, but he could
not remember anything after making love to her last night. He had
no idea why she was dead, or why she was in the van.
All Tom knew is that if someone thought that
he had anything to do with her being dead, it wouldn’t go well for
him. He had better find a safe place to stow the body, and get away
from this place. He went back into the motel room, packed his
stuff, and double-checked the place for anything forgotten or
troublesome. He settled up with the clerk, and by noon, they were
tooling down the interstate.
A bit further on, they came to one of those
lonely off ramps that always accesses some sort of utility road.
Tom took that one, and started looking about for a good spot as
soon as the road turned to gravel under his tires. An hour later,
Vicki was buried in some soft dirt near a creek, and the van had
returned to the interstate.
Tom did a cursory check of the van and his
bags, to make sure that everything of his was in the van, and
anything that would tie him to Vicki was not. Rolled up in one of
his shirts, he did find the blade that he received in the dream, or
one just like it. It was clean and unbloodied, so he decided to
Tom drove for another six hours or so before
he felt that he had put enough miles between them and the body.
Finally, he pulled off into a small town that seemed peaceful
enough. Either he missed the sign that named the town, or it didn’t
have a name. He parked in front of a building that was part general
store, and part cafe.
He entered the wooden structure, and sat in a
cool alcove with a table based by a wooden drum. When the waiter
came over and took his order, he went for the Lamb with mushrooms
for himself and Bailey, and the Blueberry Cheesecake for desert. He
was going through money like water on this trip. It was a good
thing that he had inherited a bundle of about three thousand
dollars from Susan. He thought that it should see him through the
As he was digging into the Lamb, he overheard
the nearest table, where the guy was complaining about the tattoo
like mark on his arm. Curious, Tom discretely looked at the mark,
which resembled two elongated Ses facing in opposite directions,
which have backed up to intersect each other, so that they
intersect each other in the middle of each arc of the S. The
resulting mark looked like it possessed two horns and two
When the waiter returned to check on their
drinks, he asked him about the mark he had seen. The waiter said
that it had been cropping up around there for the last couple of
weeks, on residents and sometimes on travelers. The curious thing
was that a lot of the people with the mark had burned to death in
the last few days.
Tom engaged the waiter in casual conversation
about the community happenings recently, and discovered that a
former ‘bad boy’ named Danny had returned to town recently sporting
a big red sword tattoo on his chest. The strange thing, in the
waiter’s opinion, was that Danny, who used to cause endless
trouble, had been very law abiding since coming back to town about
three weeks ago.
Just about the time that Tom was about to be
regaled with the last century of town gossip, the man with the mark
began to moan, then scream, and first steam, then flames, covered
his body. While his eating companions lunged backwards, the man’s
body flared, and the flesh on his body turned to ash. Within a
minute, the fire was out, and there was a pile of ashes and some
half burned bones on the chair and beneath it on the floor. Looking
closely, Tom could see no indication of scorch marks on the chair
While the waiter was still shocked by the
situation, Tom achieved two things. First, he got the waiter to
tell him where he could find Danny. Second, and more importantly,
he was able to slip out the door without paying his ticket for the
A couple of moments later, Tom and Bailey got
out of the van in the yard of a decrepit old house at the very edge
of the little community. Tom had slipped the new knife on
underneath his shirt, and they walked up to the door and knocked on
the door quietly. After waiting for a second for someone to
respond, Tom pushed the door open, and they entered the house.
There was a small sound at the back of the house, and they padded
softly down toward the source.
Opening an interior door, they saw a medium
sized man dressed in a red cape and hood monk arrangement, with the
front untied. The man was wearing a pair of blue jeans beneath the
robe. The man had a large red sword tattoo on his exposed chest,
which meant that he was Danny.
Just inside the door, there was a small table
with a book, bound in leather, on which the same structure as the
marks that showed up on the victims was depicted in lines of flame,
and the one word ‘Surtur’. Tom flipped the book open, and read a
couple of paragraphs. The Introduction stated that Surtur was a
Flame Giant, who was destined to burn away the world, humanity and
the gods at the end of the world. It said that the priest of Surtur
would hold the emblem of the red sword, and could be Surtur’s
curse, which would burn the ensouled utterly with the flames of
That was enough information for Tom. He and
Bailey sauntered forward toward Danny, and finally Danny noticed
them. He started to act annoyed, walking toward them, and when they
finally met in the middle of the room, Danny kicked at Bailey, whom
quickly sidestepped the kick.
You are Danny, right?” Tom asked.
Interestingly enough, Danny actually started to nod in agreement,
but Tom had already pulled the new blade, and buried it in the
middle of the sword tattoo on Danny, and through his heart as well.
To be fair, Tom would have stuck Danny because of his attempt to
kick Bailey, but it didn’t hurt that they were removing a civil
danger at the same time.
Tom pulled the knife from the man’s chest,
using his robe to wipe the knife down, before reholstering it. A
few moments later, He and Bailey were rolling down the interstate
Tom drove for about another four hundred miles
without significant incident. He stopped twice to fill up the gas
tank, stopping at Quik Trip stations, getting fuel, buying food and
to use the restrooms. For some odd reason, there was always an area
suitable for Bailey to walk about located behind every Quik Trip
that Tom had ever seen. It would seem that chance would
occasionally dictate that the stations would be against a car wash
or a grocery store, but it never seemed to be the case.
They finally arrived at a town which proudly
proclaimed itself to be ‘Middletown’ which didn’t appear anywhere
on Tom’s map, and should have been one of the outlying cities in
the San Antonio area, but wasn’t. It didn’t seem to fit into the
area and time that he expected. For instance, it was just now about
five thirty in the afternoon, and already people seemed to be
closing a lot of the storefronts.
This was definitely a farmer’s town, filled
with Farmer’s Cooperatives, and venues to sell farm produce, but
even farmers in these times didn’t go to bed as soon as the sun
went down any more. Tom walked over to the nearby Coop to try to
get some answers.
At the door, he met a young man who seemed
intent on closing up. Accidently jamming the door with his foot,
Tom addressed the young man. “Why is everything closing up so early
around here? What is going on?”
There have been some wolves
taking down cattle lately. Three or four people have also been
taken, and torn apart.” The man said. “Just the other day, a farmer
and his wife were taken out of their house on the other side of
town. Since then, we haven’t taken any chances.”
Interesting. Is there a room for
rent anywhere around here?” Tom asked.
No rooms available. Don’t you
understand? Everyone is locking down their houses and protecting
their families. You might find some rooms, abandoned at the old
motel over there, but there will be no one around to check you
Has anyone seen these wolves? How
do you know that it is not dogs?” Tom asked.
We know that it is not any of our
dogs, because the tracks are way too big, and any dogs we don’t
take into the house gets torn apart during the nights.” The young
man replied. “From the tracks, they estimate that the animal has to
be at least two hundred pounds. Not something you want to meet at
I guess you’re right.” Tom said.
“Take care of yourself, young man.”
With that exchange, Tom and Bailey walked away
from the Coop, and returned to the van. Tom was torn between the
need to get to a useful destination, and curiosity about what was
causing the slaughter.
Well Bailey, let’s park on that
hill over there, and see if we can see that wolf everyone is
complaining about.” He settled back in the seat, and unscrewed the
lid on a thermos of hot coffee that he had collected earlier, and
pulled out his pack of Pall Malls and lit one up. It was now just
after six, and the shadows were just getting longer.
A couple of hours went by, and Tom had gotten
out of the van once to take a piss. He was contemplating getting
back on the interstate. He was basically here on this stakeout
because of casual curiosity, wasn’t he? He couldn’t see how it
would be worthwhile to sit here all night, just to satisfy a minor