Monster

I got another call from Martin. This one was different. Something went wrong. Sam had left, in the dead of night after Martin’s last call. Peter was there… waiting at Martin’s. Sam and Martin both were confident in their ability to dispatch him again, and I had no intentions of taking any more of my family around him again. Not willingly. It was supposed to be an easy thing. Sam had never failed to absolutely slaughter anyone he had set his sights on and unleashed the beast within. I had no fears when he left.

About an hour after the dreadful call, we had people flocking to our house just before dawn crept over the horizon. Something happened to Sam… something none of us saw coming. This changed everything.

Frank and Clara had arrived at almost the exact same time, pulling into our darkened driveway one after the other. Wayland stayed home with Delilah while she slept, but he was there on speakerphone so he could hear everything that was happening. Martin and Alex appeared outside of our home, sprinting through the fleeting shadows of the night sky; shortly followed by Charles. The oldest vampire I had ever personally met, had returned. His silver hair glowed with the distant light that was just breaching the horizon as Martin held the door for his old friend. He came alone, remembering exactly where I lived after the last time we met. The last time extreme circumstances brought us together. Charles ditched the two others that Martin had said were in his company.

As the sun inched past the surface of the horizon, I closed the door to our home, locking in our vampire friends from the sun’s lethal approach.

“Carter… I wish I could say it’s good to see you again,” Charles apologized with strained eyes. “But I only bring bad tidings… again.”

“It’s good to see you Charles,” I sighed as we shook hands. My grip was firm and serious, while he was measured against my human form. Always maintaining control over himself.

“Where did they go? What happened to him?” Eleanor asked first. My wife was visibly distraught for Sam. Fearing the worst inside her shaking mind.

Everything was recounted for us in the early morning hours of our living room. We sat there talking, while Sam and Peter were somewhere... nowhere... we didn't know. There was nothing we could do for him. Nothing we knew could help; we were just useless afterthoughts in a fight greater than we were equipped for. It was strange to feel that way… like an unsuspecting human with no knowledge of the supernatural at all. It made me feel helpless, like a child, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

We knew that if Sam ever stood toe to toe against anything, he would most likely always come out on top. We hadn’t seen him lose yet… not really. But that’s not what happened. Sam was taken from battle in an instant. There was no fight, he never touched Peter. Peter touched him first. They both disappeared in a pillar of green flames.

The old silver-haired vampire shook his head apologetically. “Peter compared himself to the elders below, saying that he also had “contacts” in an ancient place. He could be bluffing, overplaying his hand, but… if he’s telling the truth…” Charles ran his hand through his silky hair. “I fear that he has taken Sam somewhere that we cannot follow; a place that could have no return.”

“Charles,” Martin cut in, “you don’t think Peter could actually have the ability to go from here to there, let alone take someone else by force… do you?” Martin really seemed to be in disbelief.

“I do, Martin. Unfortunately, this is how Peter has stayed off of our radar for as long as he has. He can move between places, vanishing himself in and out of the living world to… someplace else. It’s a power I have scarcely heard of, even the elders have never shown that type of ability. Not even Mercy. If they could transport themselves at will, I don’t think they’d stay in the pits. That kind of power comes from strength beyond this world… from a land that nothing could survive.” Charles shook his head with disbelief. “It isn’t direct freedom to move anywhere, however. One must first be transported to a different place… where the power resides. Then from there, you can return to where you desire in this world, if that power allows it. But how would Peter Grimwood have gained such favor?”

Alex spoke up next, “What are you saying? That Peter took Sam to what… another world?”

None of us wanted to accept what the answer would be. It was too big… too far out of our reach. Autumn stopped listening and walked out of sight of everyone else. I heard her go into the kitchen and open my whiskey cabinet. I heard her pour a drink in a glass and then sit down in there.

Then, out of sight of the rest of us, she just broke down even harder. Kayla and Arthur were awake and fully caught up on what had happened. Kayla went to her in the kitchen. She comforted and held Autumn for the first time since Zeke passed. Autumn had been there for Kayla almost every moment since Zeke had died, but now Kayla was there for my daughter.

“Another world, another dimension... I don’t know exactly what it is,” Charles began cautiously. “But what I do know is that it’s a place where escape is impossible. It’s a realm of endless waste and void, far beyond anything we have here. These dimensions are home to... things. Eldritch beings with no defined shape, ancient monstrosities so vast they can’t even exist in the physical world as we know it.” He paused, looking uncertain but determined to explain as best he could. “I’m no expert. I’ve only read bits and pieces, some very old texts and fragments of lore. And I’ve heard rumors from certain elders down in the pits who have their own…” he glanced at Martin. “What did you call them?”

“Bestiaries,” Martin supplied quickly.

“Bestiaries… yes, that’s the word we’ll use, though these creatures are far from ordinary beasts. These books, if you can call them that, serve a similar purpose. The elders have tried to make contact with a certain being, reaching out in their own ways. I don’t know much about what they’ve requested from these entities, or what those beings have demanded in return… but they’re real. And if Peter has taken Sam to one of those places, I’m afraid we may never see him again.”

Charles’ expression grew darker. “There are things in those realms, things you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares. Those who seek power from these beings often meet a swift and brutal end. These ancient entities don’t act quickly; they move with deliberate slowness, setting plans in motion that span lifetimes. Mercy was a prime example of someone making contact with one of them, reaching for… more. Although she never shared much about her benefactor. Secrecy and paranoia ran through her mind constantly, so she wasn't a wellspring of information. But, if you don’t have their favor, or protection, just making contact, or stepping into one of those domains could mean instant death.”

His voice held an edge of finality, the weight of each word underscoring the gravity of the situation.

“Has anyone spoken to Annabelle?” Wayland buzzed through the phone. “She’ll need to know, and then she can see what’s coming. This has to be the most important thing we do next,” Wayland urged.

He was absolutely right. We had to contact Annabelle. It was the only thing any of us could do now that the unexplainable had just happened.

It was almost nine o’clock in the morning, and we were all still lingering inside the house. Charles, Martin, and Alex all hid within the shadows of our sprawling home as we waited for the gypsy family to arrive. We had made contact, and they were coming.

When Annabelle, Shelta, and Patrick arrived, I felt a physical sigh of relief in the house. We needed to pick her brain and see what she could feel about Sam.

Once they were all up to speed, Annabelle seemed under duress, “And you are sure he is gone?”

“Yes… he just vanished with Peter,” Eleanor struggled to maintain her composure. She was staring into the wall of the living room as she spoke.

Charles spoke up next, “We know that Peter has been in contact with something from the other side. Necromancy has ties to one of those dark dimensions, and we know for certain that he has been traveling in and out of our world to another.”

Annabelle nodded, “I have to agree with you. Mucia’s hellfire came from the same place.”

I had questions immediately after Annabelle's words. She knew something about these other realms and ominous figures. But my questions could wait. I just needed someone to say what we needed to do to get Sam back. If we could get Sam back…

“What does this mean?” Autumn cried quietly. “Where is he? Is he okay?” Her panic was slowing but still present, as she continued to day drink in the living room.

Charles spoke to all of us, “The little I know of that other place is enough to realize that not many beings come and go from there freely. If Peter is jumping between worlds, then he is being allowed to do so by someone much greater than he. I doubt they will let Sam have the same freedom. We need to shift our focus…” Charles was cut off.

“What about the one Sam talks about?” Eleanor cut in. “I felt that things power when I was with him in the fields. Maybe it could help him…” Eleanor was grasping at straws, but I hoped she was right.

“I still see him,” Annabelle assured. “I saw him standing beside me in a vision. It was the first time I had ever seen him with my abilities, but he was there, and he still is. Not the void or the space in time he blots out of my visions, but I see him.”

“How can you see him, Mom…” Shelta was at a loss. “I still can’t. What changed for you to be able to see him like that?”

Annabelle looked like she was holding something back as she answered her daughter, “Do not worry about the specifics, Shelta. Nothing has changed in what is to come. I have seen you assist in Peter’s final death. We will not lose any more family against Peter… that is a promise. He will not kill anyone else!” Her words seemed reliable.

“So, what are we supposed to do?” I asked her.

“Wait…” Annabelle answered. “Time will reveal everything. If I see a change in the finality of the events, I will correct our course as needed.”

“But what about Sam,” Autumn pleaded. “We can’t just sit around and forget about him… we have to do something…”

“If there was something to do, Autumn, I fear we cannot do it,” Annabelle said. “Sam has always been interwoven into far greater powers than we realized. I do not know his ultimate fate, but I know that he will return in some form. His fate is his own, and his future is going to be hard. There is nothing that we can do to help him. The only thing any of us can do is be there for him in his few moments of peace. His dark days have already begun, and they will continue for a very long time… until he finds rest.”

“You sound like you know something, Annabelle,” Wayland spoke through the speaker again. “Is he still alive?”

Wayland was always quicker to piece things together than the rest of us.

“I feel like I have only glimpsed into Sam’s true nature. I do not truly know what he is, but what I saw… is something I never thought a human being would ever endure.”

At Annabel’s words, Autumn gritted her teeth and continued to cry silently. She kept trying to maintain her composure, but it was no use. Sam was gone, we all knew that, but the mystery and uncertainty around him and his status were not helping the situation. Was he alive? Was he dead? Was Annabelle right and we might see him again? Was he in some sort of hell right now? I think Autumn thought she’d have time to figure things out with him, but now… he was gone; wrapped up in things too big for our family.

Everyone was a wreck. Shelta and Annabelle both look frazzled in a way that I hadn’t seen before. I hoped that we would see our friend again, but I was scared to put too much hope into that thought. Other dimensions and planes of existence were beyond me. I fought physical beings and protected innocent human beings on the streets from flesh and blood monsters. I understood the basics of what we were talking about, but I had to admit that all of this was above my scope.

All three vampires were stuck within our home and could not escape until nightfall. We spent much of the rest of the day catching up with Charles, who was just as welcoming and humble as I remembered. We told him everything that had happened with Sam since he left after Mercy and Phineas’ defeat. He talked about his own family for a while. Then he spoke of the two others that were sent with him by the Elders. We all had many questions for him as the day and information continued to play out.

About halfway through the day, Shelta and Annabelle left the house to prepare for something that Annabelle wouldn’t inform us about. I wanted her to let me know, but I let them go since she could see beyond what I could.

Patrick stayed with us for the time being. He helped Kayla calm and support Autumn, who was losing her composure to such an extent that it had me start worrying. Eleanor was right there with our daughter, and I wanted to be. Still, Frank, Clara, and I needed to prepare for an upcoming fight against this dimension-hopping dickhead that had taken our family from us.

We had no mystical abilities like the Wicklows, but we had our tools, equipment, and skills. That’s when I got an idea. We had been thinking of a way to kill Peter Grimwood like he was some kind of monster, but what if the key to beating him wasn’t killing? What if containment was what we needed? Frank, Clara and I started formulating a plan.

Later that day, we had our plan, and we had our equipment. Peter Grimwood was looking for our family, we knew that. We knew that he had a deep-seated hatred for our families from the history and records that the Grimwoods kept after the families exiled them from the collective.

The plan was simple. We had many wards and protections for our property and land against any supernatural entity. The Wicklows helped us gain an impenetrable barrier against the creatures of the night over the years. However, we had been playing with the idea of lowering our guard. By reducing our barriers, I thought we could draw in our threats within our land… and trap them. If we brought them in close, we could entangle them with the same wards that kept them out. We could close them back on top of the threats that were aimed at us, keeping them within our property, rather than outside.

We had an idea, and it started with a question; why hasn’t Peter come to our house yet? Peter had reached out and touched us in unknown locations. If he could find us at the Cliff Cave, the Lemp Brewery, again in that city street, and then find Martin just to draw out Sam from our house…why hasn’t he come to our house?

The more we thought about it, the more we realized the history of our home. Our home was originally built back in 1900. At the turn of the century, our amalgamation of families decided to build a massive residence for the three bloodlines. It was to be a place that we could all call home. In the very beginning, when the families came over from the other side of the ocean, we lived separately for a while, mainly the Talbots. However, after a few years of living in a new country fighting monsters and demons they had never seen, our conglomerate family wanted to pool resources and join back as they used to in times of old. A mansion was erected and slowly expanded upon to create the modern home that my family now lives in.

It only took a few decades for the families to split again; the Wicklows needing space from the rest of us to live as they saw fit, and the Talbots staying away for obvious reasons. So, the mansion and all of its benefits fell to my family, the Chasses.

However, through the years and many generations of Wicklows, Talbots, and Chasses, the home and property were so heavily warded that it became an impenetrable fortress to anything looking to cause us harm. The Talbots had the supernatural strength of the wolf to protect them, so they did not care to retain the property. The Wicklows were close, having their own supernatural abilities to create even more warding, so they were never worried that they couldn’t recreate what we had here. So, it fell to my family to maintain the massive structure that became our family's inherited home.

The warding was thick and complex. Nothing had ever gotten through the unseen barriers to cause us harm, save for a few times the warnings had come down; the physical pieces being damaged over time, or intentionally broken to add on new materials and effects. Over the years, our families created protections of all kinds. There were triple redundancies set in all around the property. We had outer barriers that were backed by inner barriers that were supported by our inner warding that was carved on the beams within the walls. Supernaturals such as Jane, Martin, and Sam could come through, but only if they had already entered through invitation. This was a Wicklow addition back in the early days. No creature could ever find our house, let alone enter unless they had previously been welcomed there by a trusted member of the family; and most importantly, did not want to cause us harm. Over time, even Martin was able to invite people in.

Warding can be simple but powerful seals that can be created using a multitude of methods. The most common we currently use is a silver base imbued with the ancient glyphs taught to us by our ancestors. The glyphs are a language associated with the Grimwood family and their supernatural power. Using the written words of the gypsy’s history alongside supernatural material like silver, we can create a closed loop that will protect the area inside from inhuman threats. The same glyphs are always associated with the warding, no matter the materials used, or size. Still, the materials are interchangeable, along with the specific effect you wish to create. Angel oak timbers, buried foxgloves, and blazingstar are just a few different materials used in older times. The most potent warding we had on our property were angel oak timbers that were cut and buried beneath the soil in the foundation of our home, as well as a few middle-range barriers on the way to our property line. They were carved and strutted with silver to enhance the concentric circles that were built within them to protect us. Circular builds are the easiest and most effective style of warding our ancestors came to understand. Every single ward that covers my family home is of the same shape, only materials and effects differ.

Needless to say, the Chase home was so protected from any possible threat, from years of careful thought and construction, that nothing could get to us. Peter was no different. Eleanor and I spoke about the belief that he had not come directly to us because we were in our safest location most of the time. And, if we could keep him out, what if we could keep him in?

After a few hours of talking and planning amongst my own family, we thought we had a plan that would give us the edge against Peter and his unnatural abilities. We felt that we could break our two outer wards to bring him in close, and then seal it back behind him. If we could get him inside and trapped, maybe Shelta and Annabelle could come in and do whatever they needed to do to trap him and seal him away. Perhaps, we also could figure out something about Sam.

When we all gathered to plan, I noticed something change in Autumn. There was a hardness in her eyes, a chill that ran deeper than I’d ever seen. It was like she’d shut down every part of herself that wasn’t focused on vengeance. The moment we started discussing warding and the possibility of trapping Peter, she was all in, almost too eager. It was as if she’d been waiting for this opportunity, like the idea of him suffering was the only thing keeping her going.

She didn’t hide it, either. She made little remarks, almost offhand, about wanting to be the one to hurt him. There was an edge to her voice, a grim satisfaction that seemed out of place, even in our grim situation. It was more than just anger or the need for justice… there was a darkness there, something raw and personal. Once Peter was trapped, she made it clear that she wanted to be the one to make him suffer, to give back every ounce of pain she was feeling. It was as if she believed that hurting him was the only way to reclaim a part of herself that he’d taken. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t just looking for revenge, but for a kind of closure that would never come.

We called Shelta, but there was no answer. We called Annabelle, and there was no answer. We definitely needed their power once we had Peter in his cage, but we could not wait. Eleanor, Autumn, and I also felt very strongly that the longer we waited, the more of a chance Sam would forever be out of our reach. Yet, I think our biggest fear was that we’d clear our wards and Peter wouldn’t come. Then we’d be at a loss with no hope of finding Sam. It was never said by the others, but I think we all agreed. This wasn’t just some defense mechanism for us, it was the only thing we could think of doing. If we couldn’t trap Peter here… what else could we do? It was our one chance to be useful in a fight against forces much bigger than any of us had ever faced.

It was the middle of the afternoon, the following day after we had ironed out our plans. You’d think we were scrambling, but we had thought this out very thoroughly. Everyone had a place, and everyone had a position. We planned for many different scenarios; the wards wouldn’t seal back after they were broken, Peter wouldn’t be contained, he’d be too strong for us to handle at all, or he wouldn’t show at all. We would all be spread out and in position for him and whoever came with him. If he came.

We placed a lot of faith in his anger and resentment against our families. We thought that if we could knock down the wards hiding our home, he would sense us in time and make his way to us. It was a gamble.

When the sun was at its peak in the sky, Frank and I walked out past the border of trees that surrounded the property of our massive home. We entered the shade of the trees with shovels, wrenches, and a blowtorch to where we knew the wardings were buried underground. The outermost barrier was made of our modern silver-steel alloy that CWT Construction had formulated over the last few decades. The pieces were fabricated in our secure warehouse, and the glyphs were laser etched onto them with one of our CNC machines. Once assembled, they formed a physical circle that encompassed our property and stretched a quarter-mile in diameter. When it was set in place, Martin said his thoughts and senses were so scrambled that he could not find the house like he used to; not until he was brought through and integrated into the effect… multiple times. Whenever he would walk in one direction, his orientation would be flipped and spun to lose all sense of self-awareness. The warding was so powerful that it actually surprised my family and our inhuman friends. None of us expected it to be as effective as it was. It took a while for Martin to acclimate, even after being invited.

The alloy beams were approximately 4 ft below ground, so it took about five minutes for Frank and me to unearth the targeted pieces. The pieces were all bolted together at each end, and the bolts were sealed with a silver solder that filled any space between the threads and holes that might cause the warding to fail or become ineffective. We only needed to remove one piece. Once the seal was broken, the entire warding would fail, and Peter could walk right past it.

Next, we made our way back out into the sunlight halfway through our backyard. This ward was formed by an older generation of our family that used planks carved from an angel oak tree. The planks were not straight; they were curved and wavy pieces of wood that were joined together using older techniques. The glyphs are the same as they always were, just as they were carved into every blade of silver that my family possessed. The silver held natural effects that weakened most creatures, but imbuing with the same glyphs gave our weapons an added bonus against the beasts of the night. Everything became more effective when using the gypsy’s ancient language. Yet, the angel oak wood was some of the rarest warding material any of our families had come across. We had to separate the pieces we dug up in the backyard very carefully to not damage the aged wood. Once it was dissolved, we left it lying in position, so all we had to do was place it back together, but the joints would not hold anymore. We had a plan for that, as we already had fabricated silver spikes that we could use to repair older wards like these. Once Peter was inside that circle, Kayla would be in this position with a sledgehammer waiting to slam the silver spike through the wooden beams to reactivate our older ward.

Our last barrier was the oldest and most fragile of the wards. Our best-case scenario was that our innermost ward would keep the home safe from Peter and whatever force he brought with him. This one we would not break. This barrier was very specific and less physical than the other brute-force barriers we had created. We knew where it was located around the outer edge of our house walls, but no one dared touch it, or try and dig it up. I was told by my father, who was told by his father before, that it was made from a unique plant that has been grown in place, plucked from the earth at maturity, and then inverted in the ground where it was buried. My dad told me that the plants continue to grow beneath the surface, and over time created the barrier that initially protected our home. This warding was not built; it was developed, and there were no glyphs to speak of. Even the modern Wicklow family members were not sure how our ancestors knew how to make it. They must have learned about it in their travels, on a hunt, or something.

We had our plan, we prepared for it, and now we were waiting. I kept calling the Wicklow’s, but there was no answer from anyone. Not even Patrick was answering his phone after he had left our house with his mother. We needed Shelta and Annabelle after we had Peter trapped, but we had already set things in motion.

“What will we do if your plan doesn’t work, Carter?” Charles asked. The eldest vampire returned to help out the family, yet again.

“If the warding plan fails… then we kill him. If we kill him, then we at least buy more time until he comes back again,” I reasoned.

Autumn never said a word, only cycling the action on her rifle as she prepared her weapon for extensive use. She hoped we’d kill him.

“Annabelle said that we wouldn’t lose anyone else to him,” Eleanor reminded.

“So that means we have nothing to lose,” Autumn said emotionless from behind her sights. She moved robotically and kept honing her weapon, planning to cause as much pain and death as she could.

“Even so,” I added, “sometimes death isn’t as bad as living on after something changes you. Dying is mercy sometimes,” I said to everyone, speaking more to Autumn. “Everyone needs to be careful in their positions. Other things could happen...”

Everyone agreed after I spoke the words. Autumn was the only one to stay silent. I wished I knew what was going on in her mind. She was the only one of us that I was actively worried about during this upcoming battle.

“We have to watch her,” I told my wife, quietly.

“I’ll be with her, Carter. I won’t let her do anything that will get her hurt. If I have to, I’ll knock her out and put her someplace safe.” Eleanor wanted to do whatever it took to get Sam back as well, but she would not risk our daughter to do so.

The two outer wards were broken, and now we were playing the waiting game. There were a lot of players hidden around our property, but that made me feel good. I trusted in Annabelle’s words that we wouldn’t lose anyone else against Peter, but part of me was scared. I felt like I could sense something creeping up on us. I had this feeling that something was coming… something none of us had ever faced before. A force that none of our ancestors had ever encountered in their long lives of fighting against the darkest evils in the world.

I had a small moment with Autumn, Eleanor, Frank, Clara, and Wayland. This was our family… and we were fighting for each other. This enemy wanted nothing more than to kill our whole family. It was personal. We knew what we were fighting for.