"The Inexorable Hourglass"
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dochermes"The Inexorable Hourglass"
1/30/1979
I.
Just after midnight, a stout middle-aged man was held down into his overstuffed chair by unseen force. Dr Dale Brinnier stared with terrified bulging eyes at an old-fashioned foot-high hourglass he himself had placed on the coffee table in front of him. He looked as if he expected the object to violently explode in a minute.
Bent over that hourglass was a young man he had never seen before. Gaunt and intense, dressed all in black, Jeremy Bane was just twenty-one. He turned his pale grey eyes up at Brinnier, who winced at the hostile impact they had. Only a few moments earlier, Bane had charged in through his front door and explained that Kenneth Dred had sent him to help.
"So, this was in a package left at your door?" the Dire Wolf asked. "You took it out and the spell of the, what did you call it? The spell of the Inexorable Hourglass began?"
"Yes, yes," answered Brinnier. "Do something. Hurry, please. I can't get up out of this chair."
Examining the accursed artifact, Bane was scowling more than usual. "I can't lift this damn thing. Something's forcing it down to the table. Otherwise, I'd just flip it upside down and keep giving you another hour."
"I'm sure it's gralic force holding it down. Loukas would make sure of that. Oh God, look, there isn't much time left!" Brinnier rocked back and forth in his chair, hitting his hands on the arms in useless protest. "When the sands run out, I'll combust! I'll burst into flames."
The Dire Wolf covered his face with his hands for a second. "Quiet. Let me think. Every trap has a way out. I don't want to just smash the hourglass. That would probably just kill you instantly."
"Well, then don't do THAT!"
"I'm not going to." He bent down and examined the sorcerous device. It was evidently quite old. The surface of the glass itself was etched with mysterious symbols he did not recognize at all. The round top was made of dark wood, not thick at all, and there was a chip off one edge.
Jeremy Bane glanced over to where Dr Brinnier seemed ready to have a heart attack and die even before the final grains of sand trickled through. Then he suddenly straightened up. "Wait. Do you have a power drill?"
"What? Yes. It's up on top of the refrigerator. I was putting some trim on the baseboards, why?"
Not answering, Bane raced to the kitchen and came back with a cordless drill. The bit was thin. Quickly, he made a hole through the top of the hourglass. Dropping the drill, he barked, "Give me that handkerchief in your pocket."
"What do you want with it-?"
"You've got less than a minute, just co-operate." Bane stretched the handkerchief down tightly over the top of the hourglass. He fetched a vaccuum cleaner from the closet where Brinnier told him it was stored. Holding the handkerchief down tightly with one hand, he clicked the vaccuum on and held the nozzle near the handkerchief.
With only seconds to go, grains of sand swirled wildly around inside the hourglass, being pulled back up into the upper chamber and prevented from escaping by the taut handkerchief. When nearly all of the sand was back up near the top, the Dire Wolf snapped the vaccuum cleaner off and exhaled deeply. He realized he had been sweating from tension.
"That gives you another hour," he told Brinnier. "Maybe we can just keep doing this indefinitely. I don't know why I'M so shaky. It wasn't like a bomb about to go off, nothing was going to happen to me..."
Brinnier got to his feet, unsteady but starting to show relief. "I can move. I'm not held down in the chair any more. The spell has been broken."
Hearing that, Bane experimentally lifted the hourglass up off the coffee table. "Hey. Guess you're right. Is it harmless now?"
"For me. It will repeat the curse on its next victim. Loukas knows his dark craft."
Bane went over to where a pair of boots stood by the front door, tugged the lace out of one of them and used it to tie the handkerchief down securely over the hourglass' top disc. "What's Loukas's problem with you anyway?"
"Oh, he has hated me for years," said Brinnier. "I wouldn't sell him my family's real estate upstate for the ridiculously low price he demanded. He used threats but I wouldn't budge. Then Kenneth told me Emil Loukas was a genuine warlock who might put a curse on me, but I laughed that off. Until tonight."
"Good thing you have that phone by your chair. Calling Mr Dred was the best thing you could have done." Finding the packing box on the floor, Bane placed the hourglass in it. He was careful to be sure it was upright. "You know a lot about the Midnight War. How is the curse activated? Do you need to say certain words or something?"
"Oh no, nothing like that. Loukas performed the spell. Now, once the hourglass is inverted again, the person holding it will suffer the curse."
Brinnier sat down heavily and stared at Bane. "Young man, I owe you my life. When I called Kenneth Dred tonight, it was in desperation. I thought I was doomed and I just wanted to let him know who had done it."
The young Dire Wolf was holding the box and gazing down at it thoughtfully. "At least I got here in time. It's only a ten minute run from 38th Street. Mr Dred says you've been his friend for years, that's good enough for me. You know what, I've got an idea."
Seeing Bane head for the door, Brinnier cried out, "Wait. I don't understand. What do you intend to do?"
Not stopping, the Dire Wolf called back as he stepped out into the cold night, "I'll let you know how it works out."
II.
In the darkest part of the winter night, Emil Loukas was woken from slumber by sudden blinding pain. He was confused and unable to gather his thoughts. Someone seized his hands in the dark and forced them to hold an object, then place it down. His head began to clear, but there was a sore throbbing ache on one side. Someone had struck him, and hard, not quite enough to knock him out completely. The warlock shifted in his bed, throwing the heavy blanket down off him but he found to his horror that he could not get up. He was pinned down by unseen force stronger than chains.
The only light in that room came from the dim grey rectangle of the window to his left, not enough to make out even vague shapes. Loukas struggled harder but could not get out of bed. "Who are you? What do you want? By Draldros, you will regret this."
From the foot of the bed came a hard cold voice. "I found out a little about you, Loukas. You're a Red Sect member. You studied sorcery under those Lundborg brothers. And for ten years now, you've used that sorcery to get whatever you wanted, no matter who had to pay for it."
"You will die begging for mercy," Loukas growled, still wrestling back and forth in the bed. "Tell me your name. Let me see your face."
"Yeah, right," answered the voice. "That's not going to happen. Looks like you're stuck where you are, so I guess the spell worked. That's the so-called Inexorable Hourglass that you just put down on your nightstand."
"You bastard! How dare you!" Loukas panted with effort but was trapped.
"You sent that thing to Dr Brinnier, didn't you?" asked the voice.
"So? He deserved it. He stood in my way. I will torture you when I get free...!"
"You're not going to get free," said the stern voice as it moved away from the bed toward the door to the hallway. "I checked. There's no phone in here. Your nearest neighbor is a mile away, so yelling for help is not going to do any good."
"Wait, wait, I will pay you to help me escape this! I have money."
"There isn't enough money in the world to make me help you," said the voice. "You were going to make a man burn alive just because he wouldn't sell property you wanted." There came the click of the door closing and Emil Loukas was left alone in the dark, knowing that grains of sands were trickling down a few at a time within the Inexorable Hourglass.
Outside, in the bitter chill, Jeremy Bane sat behind the wheel of Kenneth Dred's big old Pontiac and waited stoically. He watched the isolated house and checked the luminous dial of his wristwatch. An hour later, the upstairs window flared up with a white flash but there was no scream. Death had been quick. As smoke started to seep out of the house, he started up the engine and swung the car around to head back toward Manhattan.
4/24/2016
1/30/1979
I.
Just after midnight, a stout middle-aged man was held down into his overstuffed chair by unseen force. Dr Dale Brinnier stared with terrified bulging eyes at an old-fashioned foot-high hourglass he himself had placed on the coffee table in front of him. He looked as if he expected the object to violently explode in a minute.
Bent over that hourglass was a young man he had never seen before. Gaunt and intense, dressed all in black, Jeremy Bane was just twenty-one. He turned his pale grey eyes up at Brinnier, who winced at the hostile impact they had. Only a few moments earlier, Bane had charged in through his front door and explained that Kenneth Dred had sent him to help.
"So, this was in a package left at your door?" the Dire Wolf asked. "You took it out and the spell of the, what did you call it? The spell of the Inexorable Hourglass began?"
"Yes, yes," answered Brinnier. "Do something. Hurry, please. I can't get up out of this chair."
Examining the accursed artifact, Bane was scowling more than usual. "I can't lift this damn thing. Something's forcing it down to the table. Otherwise, I'd just flip it upside down and keep giving you another hour."
"I'm sure it's gralic force holding it down. Loukas would make sure of that. Oh God, look, there isn't much time left!" Brinnier rocked back and forth in his chair, hitting his hands on the arms in useless protest. "When the sands run out, I'll combust! I'll burst into flames."
The Dire Wolf covered his face with his hands for a second. "Quiet. Let me think. Every trap has a way out. I don't want to just smash the hourglass. That would probably just kill you instantly."
"Well, then don't do THAT!"
"I'm not going to." He bent down and examined the sorcerous device. It was evidently quite old. The surface of the glass itself was etched with mysterious symbols he did not recognize at all. The round top was made of dark wood, not thick at all, and there was a chip off one edge.
Jeremy Bane glanced over to where Dr Brinnier seemed ready to have a heart attack and die even before the final grains of sand trickled through. Then he suddenly straightened up. "Wait. Do you have a power drill?"
"What? Yes. It's up on top of the refrigerator. I was putting some trim on the baseboards, why?"
Not answering, Bane raced to the kitchen and came back with a cordless drill. The bit was thin. Quickly, he made a hole through the top of the hourglass. Dropping the drill, he barked, "Give me that handkerchief in your pocket."
"What do you want with it-?"
"You've got less than a minute, just co-operate." Bane stretched the handkerchief down tightly over the top of the hourglass. He fetched a vaccuum cleaner from the closet where Brinnier told him it was stored. Holding the handkerchief down tightly with one hand, he clicked the vaccuum on and held the nozzle near the handkerchief.
With only seconds to go, grains of sand swirled wildly around inside the hourglass, being pulled back up into the upper chamber and prevented from escaping by the taut handkerchief. When nearly all of the sand was back up near the top, the Dire Wolf snapped the vaccuum cleaner off and exhaled deeply. He realized he had been sweating from tension.
"That gives you another hour," he told Brinnier. "Maybe we can just keep doing this indefinitely. I don't know why I'M so shaky. It wasn't like a bomb about to go off, nothing was going to happen to me..."
Brinnier got to his feet, unsteady but starting to show relief. "I can move. I'm not held down in the chair any more. The spell has been broken."
Hearing that, Bane experimentally lifted the hourglass up off the coffee table. "Hey. Guess you're right. Is it harmless now?"
"For me. It will repeat the curse on its next victim. Loukas knows his dark craft."
Bane went over to where a pair of boots stood by the front door, tugged the lace out of one of them and used it to tie the handkerchief down securely over the hourglass' top disc. "What's Loukas's problem with you anyway?"
"Oh, he has hated me for years," said Brinnier. "I wouldn't sell him my family's real estate upstate for the ridiculously low price he demanded. He used threats but I wouldn't budge. Then Kenneth told me Emil Loukas was a genuine warlock who might put a curse on me, but I laughed that off. Until tonight."
"Good thing you have that phone by your chair. Calling Mr Dred was the best thing you could have done." Finding the packing box on the floor, Bane placed the hourglass in it. He was careful to be sure it was upright. "You know a lot about the Midnight War. How is the curse activated? Do you need to say certain words or something?"
"Oh no, nothing like that. Loukas performed the spell. Now, once the hourglass is inverted again, the person holding it will suffer the curse."
Brinnier sat down heavily and stared at Bane. "Young man, I owe you my life. When I called Kenneth Dred tonight, it was in desperation. I thought I was doomed and I just wanted to let him know who had done it."
The young Dire Wolf was holding the box and gazing down at it thoughtfully. "At least I got here in time. It's only a ten minute run from 38th Street. Mr Dred says you've been his friend for years, that's good enough for me. You know what, I've got an idea."
Seeing Bane head for the door, Brinnier cried out, "Wait. I don't understand. What do you intend to do?"
Not stopping, the Dire Wolf called back as he stepped out into the cold night, "I'll let you know how it works out."
II.
In the darkest part of the winter night, Emil Loukas was woken from slumber by sudden blinding pain. He was confused and unable to gather his thoughts. Someone seized his hands in the dark and forced them to hold an object, then place it down. His head began to clear, but there was a sore throbbing ache on one side. Someone had struck him, and hard, not quite enough to knock him out completely. The warlock shifted in his bed, throwing the heavy blanket down off him but he found to his horror that he could not get up. He was pinned down by unseen force stronger than chains.
The only light in that room came from the dim grey rectangle of the window to his left, not enough to make out even vague shapes. Loukas struggled harder but could not get out of bed. "Who are you? What do you want? By Draldros, you will regret this."
From the foot of the bed came a hard cold voice. "I found out a little about you, Loukas. You're a Red Sect member. You studied sorcery under those Lundborg brothers. And for ten years now, you've used that sorcery to get whatever you wanted, no matter who had to pay for it."
"You will die begging for mercy," Loukas growled, still wrestling back and forth in the bed. "Tell me your name. Let me see your face."
"Yeah, right," answered the voice. "That's not going to happen. Looks like you're stuck where you are, so I guess the spell worked. That's the so-called Inexorable Hourglass that you just put down on your nightstand."
"You bastard! How dare you!" Loukas panted with effort but was trapped.
"You sent that thing to Dr Brinnier, didn't you?" asked the voice.
"So? He deserved it. He stood in my way. I will torture you when I get free...!"
"You're not going to get free," said the stern voice as it moved away from the bed toward the door to the hallway. "I checked. There's no phone in here. Your nearest neighbor is a mile away, so yelling for help is not going to do any good."
"Wait, wait, I will pay you to help me escape this! I have money."
"There isn't enough money in the world to make me help you," said the voice. "You were going to make a man burn alive just because he wouldn't sell property you wanted." There came the click of the door closing and Emil Loukas was left alone in the dark, knowing that grains of sands were trickling down a few at a time within the Inexorable Hourglass.
Outside, in the bitter chill, Jeremy Bane sat behind the wheel of Kenneth Dred's big old Pontiac and waited stoically. He watched the isolated house and checked the luminous dial of his wristwatch. An hour later, the upstairs window flared up with a white flash but there was no scream. Death had been quick. As smoke started to seep out of the house, he started up the engine and swung the car around to head back toward Manhattan.
4/24/2016
