The Grim Spectre (6 page)

A hidden gambling parlor behind a bar erupted into chaos that night, as a fearsome figure out of mans most dreaded nightmare rose up through the floor and table a group of thugs were playing cards at.

People screamed all about the room in fright. The girl who had been waitressing the illegal game shouted in terror and ran toward the front of the place, into the legal bar. She screamed, “The Grim Spectre is here! He’s back there killin’ everyone!”

The bartender ran to a wall phone and immediately began dialing. An instant later he covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and whispered fearfully, “He’s here, Boss. He’s in the back room trashing the place.”

The bartender nodded and hung the phone up, then reached under the bar and withdrew a tommy gun. He checked it quickly and ran into the hidden back room screaming, “I’ll kill you, you sunovabitch!”

He swept the muzzle of the Thompson sub-machine gun around the room and realized that no one moved. They were all lying about the floor, unconscious or worse. But the ghost, The Grim Spectre was nowhere to be found.

His eyes wide, the bartender continued to look around when a ghostly figure rose up out of the floor behind him, to silently hover there.

Some preternatural sense warned the bartender that he was suddenly not alone, and the man turned to stare face to face with the horrific Grim Spectre!

“Wh-You! I-I’ll kill you!” he shouted.

“I think not,” The Grim Spectre replied, “One cannot kill what is already dead, mortal.”

The bartender spun the gun toward The Grim Spectre and shouted “AAARRRRRR!” He sprayed bullets at The Grim Spectre maniacally. His face frozen in fear, he pulled the trigger until the gun ran out. Every bullet had passed harmlessly through The Grim Spectre. Then the ghostly avenger reached a glowing, crackling hand toward the now cringing bartender and said, “You will tell me who owns this bar and you will answer any question I ask you, or I will make you wish I had killed you.”

The glowing hand reached closer to the terrified man, who cringed in a corner with his back to the wall. He fell to the ground with his knees up before him, trying to ward off the terrible crackling hand.

“Grim Spectre, come out here now, unless you’re afraid,” a new voice boomed from back inside the bar.

The Spectre turned immediately and floated back toward the front of the building, the cowering bartender all but forgotten.

Standing in the empty and dark bar was a man with a wide brimmed black hat turned toward the ground, so his face was hidden. He wore a black duster that stretched to the floor. From what The Grim Spectre could see he was dressed all in black.

“Who are you, mortal? What brings you here?” the Spectre asked.

The man looked up. Black hair stuck out from under his hat, but the object that caught The Grim Spectre’s eye was the white collar that peeked out from under the overcoat.

“You are a…priest?” The Spectre asked hesitantly.

“I was, once, long ago,” the black garbed stranger replied.

The Grim Spectre floated there and looked down upon the man before him, “Go back to whence you came, preacher. You are not wanted nor needed here.”

The grinning priest walked forward confidently and said, “Oh but I am, Ghost. For I am here to do what a priest does in situations with spirits, I am here to perform an exorcism!”

Then in one move he reached under his long coat and withdrew twin .45’s and began shooting at The Grim Spectre, all the while laughing madly!

The bullets passed harmlessly through The Grim Spectre, and then the Spectre floated forward grabbing the former priest by the neck and heaving him to the ground.

“You will stop firing your weapons, Priest. They cannot harm me,” he advised in a hollow voice.

“Oh I will destroy you monster, be you man or spirit the Priest will have his way and I will rid the world of your evil.”

“Be gone mortal,” The Grim Spectre roared. He reached forward to grasp the Priest by the throat, when the man ducked and parried the hand; he suddenly punched the Grim Spectre across the neck. Immediately the Spectre stumbled backward. But the Priest was on him instantly. He grabbed the Grim Spectre’s head and slammed it down into his upraised knee.

“Ha! I knew you’d have to become corporeal again,” the Priest shouted, “Now you’re mine!”

From beneath the folds of his long coat he produced another Tommy gun and fired madly at The Grim Spectre, spraying the walls of the backroom gambling parlor with hot lead!

But the Grim Spectre was too fast, instantly he turned immaterial, allowing the Bullets to pass right through him once again.

“Get back here you coward,” the maddened Priest shouted.

“Fool! Did you think to kill that which was already dead?” The Grim Spectre taunted.

He floated quickly through the Priest, passing cleanly though his body. The man turned to face him, bewilderment writ all over his face.

“T-that’s impossible. H-how did you do that?” the shaken Priest stammered.

“All things are possible for one who walks twixt the worlds of the living and of the dead, you fool.”

Before the Priest could bring his gun to bear again the Grim Spectre back handed the man with a crackling hand across the jaw, sending him flying across the room and into a stack of beer crates.

The Priest stumbled to his feet, not as confident as he was earlier and reached again under his robes to reveal a shining blade. He swung the blade before him in small arcs as he moved closer and closer to the Grim Spectre.

“Back to the pits of hell with you, Ghoul,” he shouted as he slashed the blade back and forth before the Grim Spectre.

“I will send you to the pits myself, fallen one,” The Spectre replied, reaching a crackling hand towards his foe.

But the Priest swung his arm backward quickly; the gleaming blade passed into the Grim Spectre’s ethereal form and immediately the Grim Spectre screamed!

“Ha!” The Priest laughed, “Do you see this knife, Grim Spectre? This is a blessed blade, dipped long into holy water and prayed over. It was created just to deal with your kind, to send ghosts and other evil spirits back to the pits of hell.”

The Priest dove at the Grim Spectre once again, knife held high, ready to slash through his immaterial form once again, and deliver a killing blow to a ghost!

But the Grim Spectre suddenly disappeared, fading from sight.

“Wh? Where are you, Grim Spectre? Come back here, cowardly fiend!” the Priest roared. He spun on his heels looking around the room for the first sign of The Grim Spectre, but finding none.

Beneath the bar, in a storage cellar The Grim Spectre hid in the darkness and thought,
‘I don’t know what he did to me, but that blade, it cut me while I was immaterial. I didn’t think that was even possible. Something in that blade was able to cut me. I have to get out of here and regroup. Allow the belt time to heal me. Otherwise I’m a dead man.’

Invisibly The Grim Spectre stood up and walked through a wall
of the cellar, passing through solid rock and concrete.

Walking for two dozen steps he then floated upward and emerged in the middle of the street outside the bar. Unseen, he floated skyward, putting distance between him and the mad Priest.

‘I have to get back to my apartment, to heal. If I don’t, I really will become a ghost,’

Minutes later the Grim Spectre passed through the walls of his own apartment and collapsed upon his bed, unconscious. His white costume stained with the red of his own blood.

Phylo Zeus sat in his dimly lit parlor listening to his favorite radio show, ‘Fibber McGee and Molly’ when his manservant appeared at his door, “Pardon the intrusion Master Zeus, but you have a visitor.”

“Who the hell would be visiting me now? It’s after eight O’clock.” He roared annoyedly.

Oscar exhaled, showing his own brand of annoyance and replied, “It’s that Priest fellow you hired to take care of your, ahem, ‘haunting’ problem, Sir.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so, Oscar? Send him right in.”

Oscar turned smartly and walked away, returning a few seconds later with the priest, now carrying his large hat in his hands before him respectfully.

Zeus turned toward his manservant and said, “Leave us, Oscar. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Oscar rolled his eyes and replied, “Very well, Sir, as if I do not know what transpires in this house and behind these walls.” Then he turned and left; closing the parlor doors behind him.

“So?” Phylo Zeus began, “Is it done? Is the ghost dead?”

“Not…quite, Master Zeus.”

“What do you mean, ‘Not quite’? I sent you to do a job, and that job was to rid me of a pain in the ass ghost. What happened?”

“We fought, I had him down using a blessed blade and then he disappeared, as if he was never there.”

“He’s a friggin’ghost; that’s what they do. What’d you expect him to do? Lie there and wait fer you ta kill him? Or whatever it is you were gonna do to him?”

Zeus stood up and threw his hands in the air. Then he walked to a liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He offered one to the Priest, but the man waved him off before saying, “No hard liquor for me, Sir. Perhaps some wine if you have it?”

“I don’t. It’s not on my regular menu. Look Padre,” he replied with more than a hint of exasperation, “go out there and find this spook and send him back to hell or wherever he came from. Do it clean and do it soon. I doubt this guy’s gonna be around tonight if you put a hurtin’ on him. But stick around and be ready to hear from me. Go back to the hotel I’m puttin’ you up in and stay near there so the desk clerk can call you if I send for ya, got it?”

The Priest nodded, his eyes finally leaving the floor and looking at his employer.

Relax, Padre, I’m not that kinda boss. I ain’t gonna kill ya for screwin’ up, at least not the first time. Now get outta here.”

The Priest nodded and bowed, then turned and left, reciting a prayer as he walked past Oscar and out the door of the mansion with a curt nod to the butler.

Oscar turned back toward Zeus, who had followed his guest to the front door, and said, “Strange fellow. He seems a tad…peculiar. Was he truly a man of the cloth at some point?”

Zeus shrugged as he took a drink from his glass, “Supposedly he is or was. Somethin’ happened with him becoming overzealous with an exorcism or something like that. He was forced out of his order afterward, but still claims to be doing God’s work. I figured he’d be perfect for this job.”

“Hhmm, indeed he may be. To battle a purported ghost says much of one’s mental state alone, I believe.”

“Ahhh, don’t think too hard about it, Oscar ol’ boy. You’ll pop a friggin’ blood vessel.”

“Believe me, Phylo, that was not my intention at all.”

“Good, now go get me another bourbon an’ make it snappy.”

He handed the empty glass to Oscar and watched the mans annoyed reaction as he turned and walked back to the parlor.

“Sometimes I wonder why I keep the old guy around,” Zeus mused aloud.

“Because without me,” Oscar’s voice replied from the adjacent room, “you wouldn’t know where you put your slippers every morning and you’d sleep in an unkempt bed for the rest of your days.”

Oscar appeared before Zeus, exiting the parlor with a fresh drink in his hand, with a derisive snort Zeus swallowed the entire contents of the glass in one gulp and said, “Getting to be ya can’t get good help anywhere these days, especially one without a smart mouth.”

“Best to have a trustworthy assistant with a smart mouth, than one too ignorant to do his job correctly,” the older man replied drolly.

“Really smart guy? An’ just what is your job, in your mind anyway?” Zeus turned with more than a hint of anger in his eyes.

“Watching your back, and keeping you safe from your own foibles, Phylo.”

Zeus nodded and said, “An’ you just make sure you keep doin’ just that, Oscar,” he replied with a pointed finger.

“Hey Bobby! Are you in there?” a muffled female voice called from the hallway outside Bobby Terrano’s door.

Groggily at first, then with almost instantly renewed clarity Bobby’s eyes focused and he sat up quickly, suddenly wide awake.

‘Oh no!’
he thought,
‘That’s Tammy, she’s here and I’m in my costume yet. I must’ve slept the whole day away.’

He looked down at the blood stained costume and quickly felt beneath the shirt. Only a slight scar remained.

‘The magic belt, it healed me again, but it took the whole day. I must’ve been hurt worse than I thought.’

“Bobby do you hear me?” Tammy said, while pounding on the door.

‘What do I do? I can’t get changed outta this thing fast enough,’
Bobby thought.

With a quick thought Bobby turned invisible, and intangible, stepping back into a wall between his apartment and the next. An instant later Tammy entered, using the key Bobby had hidden under his door mat. She looked around, her face screwed up in a combination of surprise and worry.

“Well I’ll be,” she began, “He’s not in here, but I swear I heard him moving around. So where is he? He never stopped by to drive me nuts at work like he always does. I don’t get it. I hope he’s all right. Then she noticed the sofa, with the dried blood stains on it and her eyes went wide in fear. “Oh Bobby!” she cried, covering her face with both hands, “The hospitals! I have to check the hospitals. Oh no, I hope he’s there and not dead in some alley somewhere, oh Bobby!” she cried and ran out the door of the apartment, pulling it closed behind her.

An instant later the Grim Spectre emerged from his hiding spot. He had peeked his invisible face through the wall and seen the entire display of Tammy’s concern and worry.

“Great, how am I going to explain this one?” Bobby said aloud.

He walked into his bedroom and stripped off the bloody costume, then hid it all in a false bottomed drawer in his dresser. Carefully he held the wide golden belt and thought
‘You need to look like a regular leather belt now.’
Instantly the belt complied and it changed shape into a run of the mill leather belt. Quickly he ran into the shower and washed. A few moments later he was dressing in a fresh pair of slacks and clean shirt.

‘I’m going to have to find Tammy and tell her I’m okay,’
he thought to himself.
‘Then I have to find that crazy priest who attacked me, I mean The Grim Spectre last night, and I have to teach him a lesson he’s not gonna forget.’

He looked toward his dresser one last time then removed the bloody shirt from the hidden drawer.

‘Then I have to get this cleaned.’

He shoved the dirty and bloody shirt into a bag and headed toward the door. Opening it he stepped cautiously outside, and seeing no one around he reached under the door mat and removed the key Tammy had replaced there.

‘I’m not leaving this around anymore, that’s for sure.’

He placed the key in his pocket and hurried down the staircase toward the front door of the apartment building.

Bursting out onto the street Bobby looked in both directions but he knew Tammy was long gone.

‘Dammit, now what do I do?’
he thought.

Bobby snapped his fingers and said “The Paper, that’s where I can find her.” He hailed a passing cab and quickly jumped in. Fifteen minutes later he exited the cab door and bounded up the staircase toward the door of the old building.

Once inside the city room he shouted, “George, have you seen Tammy? Just now I mean, has she been back here in the last couple of minutes?”

George Kowalski looked up from a stack of papers in his hands and focused on the disheveled young man running toward him.

“Whoa, slow down, Bobby. Yes, Tammy was just here and she was quite upset. She thought you were dead, or something.”

“Well I ain’t dead, George. Where’d she go? Did she tell you?”

“She said she was checking the hospitals for you.” the bigger man replied.

“What’s the closest hospital to here?” Bobby quickly questioned.

“Mercy is three blocks that way,” George pointed.

Bobby nodded his thanks and ran first to the elevator, and then out the door into the street.

‘Now where’d she get off to?’
Bobby asked, while starting to lightly run down the street in the direction George had indicated.

Bobby dodged and weaved his way through slow walking shoppers and people heading home from work.

He ran past one store after another and past groups of sight seers when he saw something that immediately riveted his attention to an alleyway. It was on the edge of the alleyway and everyone else walked by ignoring it. It was a woman’s shoe lying on the sidewalk near the mouth of the alley. But more importantly it was Tammy’s shoe. One of the same shoes she had on in his apartment.