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"Chiller Night With Gothicus"
May. 12th, 2022 03:42 am"Chiller Night With Gothicus"
4/20-4/24/2011
I.
Sheng Mo-Yuan honestly could not tell what it was that had reeled clumsily into his office at two in the morning. Wrapped in what looked like burlap that had been ripped into strips and tied together into a sort of robe with a hood, the creature stood about four feet tall. But then, it was so bent over and had such a pronounced hump sticking up sharply from between where its shoulder blades should be that its height was debatable.
As the strange being swayed weakly, it held up a three-fingered hand with muddy grey skin, gesturing for help. Sheng was already moving around his desk to catch his visitor. The creature slumped bonelessly out of the Chujiran's grasp to stretch out on the bare hardwood floor. Sticking out from between the ribs on its left side protruded a wavy-bladed dagger with an ebony hilt. Black sticky blood covered that side of the wounded being.
In a wheezing gasp, the creature said, "Gothicus..." Then it shuddered once and its head fell back to hit to the floor.
Sheng Mo-Yuan rose to his feet. Since leaving Chujir and becoming an investigator into the Midnight War, he certainly had seen more creepy and inexplicable events than he had thought possible but things could always get weirder. Only five feet five but athletic and energetic, Sheng swung to rush out the open office door into the empty hallway. The other businesses in this building all closed up by ten at the latest; only his detective agency Chuan Lo Tsing ('Fist For Hire') kept the unusual hours of midnight until nine in the morning.
To his left was the wide staircase leading down to the second floor and from there to the lobby. Sheng leaned over the bannister, listening, tensed and ready for any attack, but there was only silence.
Returning to his office, Sheng snapped on a pair of latex gloves from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and crouched over the corpse. He had thought he was familiar with most of the creatures of the night, from Skinwalkers to Trolls to Ghouls, but this visitor was hard to identify. The skin was thick, hairless and a dull grey. The broad flat feet were bare and only had three toes. The hands were similar, with a thumb and three fingers which ended in sharp claws. The crude robe had no pockets, so no helpful clues would be forthcoming.
Argent studied the dead face. It was as distorted as the body, with a conical skull and huge floppy ears which reached from jawline to the temples. One staring eye was twice as big as the other and set an inch higher. From the wide fanged mouth, a purple tongue hung out. Death had not given this creature any dignity.
Standing up again, Sheng thought furiously about the best move to make next. He felt a twinge at realizing that he missed having Uncle Pao around. The old man was a barrage of complaints and insults but his advice was always sound and he was a better sidekick than Sheng usually admitted. The day before, Sheng had sent Pao to Hong Kong to spend the week of his seventy-third birthday with extended family. Uncle Pao had resisted and said it was too expensive a gift, but the old man had obviously been pleased and even touched.
Ah well, Sheng thought. He had expected that working without Uncle Pao constantly ragging him would be a relief but right now he had enough self-awareness to admit that he had gotten used to the old pain in the neck. Even though Pao was not literally his uncle, since all of Sheng's blood relations were still in the adjacent realm of Chujir, the Chinese custom of addressing friends and co-workers in family terms had established their relationship firmly as wise elderly uncle instructing young nephew.
Something strange was happening to the body in front of him. Sheng sniffed and made a disgusted face. Was it his imagination or was the corpse beginning to spread out on the floor...? He rushed to the closet to get an old rug with the intention to getting it under this decaying mass before it ruined his floor.
Footsteps on the stairs. Light, rapid footsteps hurrying up from the second floor. Now what? Sheng drew on his gralic attribute, channeling force to reinforce his body structure. He could become faster or stronger than normal if he chose, but when facing something undetermined, he usually went for resilience. In a flash, his bones became dense as granite and his skin like flexible steel. Sheng leaped for the office door and collided headlong with a petite blonde.
Ashley Whitaker bounced off him as if she had dived full tilt at a wall. She gave a yelp and landed sitting up in the middle of the empty hallway. Immediately, Unicorn rebounded up on her feet again and drew herself up to a full five feet zero of indignation. "Sheng, what's your PROBLEM!? Is that anyway to treat a teammate?"
At thirty, Ashley had never been more gorgeous. The silvery shoulder-length hair shone in the subdued light, the delicately-chiseled face with those crystal blue eyes was almost perfect. More than a decade of Kumundu training and the Tagra diet had refined her to a slim athletic peak. She was wearing white as usual, sneakers and jeans a long-sleeved pullover and a light windbreaker with dark blue trim on collar and cuffs. Fastened across her back was a white leather sheath three feet long, tapering at one end to a point. This held the actual Unicorn horn that was her talisman and which inspired her war name.
Sheng had long since gotten past being influenced by her looks or by her chirpy persuasive manner. As KDF members, they had gone through so many violent and horrible experiences that they shared the bond of combat veterans. "Look, Unicorn, you ran into me, remember? What are you doing here in the middle of the night anyway?"
Adjusting the strap across her chest so that the horn was balanced, the little blonde scoffed. "I'm doing what any Tel Shai knight and KDF member should be doing, sticking my nose into the dark scary corners of the world. I've been chasing a creep. Oh heck, is that him on the floor?"
"What's left of him anyway," Sheng said. He fought down an impulse to gag at the stench. The burlap had flattened on the wood as the creature's body dissolved in a vile dark goo with the consistency of stale maple syrup. "Ugh. I wish he hadn't done that. Vampires are more considerate, they fall apart into dry dust."
"Phew!" agreed Ashley. "Damn. That's an odor you don't forget right away. Okay, Sheng, break out the cleaning supplies. This mess isn't going to get any sweeter if we leave it like this."
( the rest of the story )
4/20-4/24/2011
I.
Sheng Mo-Yuan honestly could not tell what it was that had reeled clumsily into his office at two in the morning. Wrapped in what looked like burlap that had been ripped into strips and tied together into a sort of robe with a hood, the creature stood about four feet tall. But then, it was so bent over and had such a pronounced hump sticking up sharply from between where its shoulder blades should be that its height was debatable.
As the strange being swayed weakly, it held up a three-fingered hand with muddy grey skin, gesturing for help. Sheng was already moving around his desk to catch his visitor. The creature slumped bonelessly out of the Chujiran's grasp to stretch out on the bare hardwood floor. Sticking out from between the ribs on its left side protruded a wavy-bladed dagger with an ebony hilt. Black sticky blood covered that side of the wounded being.
In a wheezing gasp, the creature said, "Gothicus..." Then it shuddered once and its head fell back to hit to the floor.
Sheng Mo-Yuan rose to his feet. Since leaving Chujir and becoming an investigator into the Midnight War, he certainly had seen more creepy and inexplicable events than he had thought possible but things could always get weirder. Only five feet five but athletic and energetic, Sheng swung to rush out the open office door into the empty hallway. The other businesses in this building all closed up by ten at the latest; only his detective agency Chuan Lo Tsing ('Fist For Hire') kept the unusual hours of midnight until nine in the morning.
To his left was the wide staircase leading down to the second floor and from there to the lobby. Sheng leaned over the bannister, listening, tensed and ready for any attack, but there was only silence.
Returning to his office, Sheng snapped on a pair of latex gloves from an inner pocket of his suit jacket and crouched over the corpse. He had thought he was familiar with most of the creatures of the night, from Skinwalkers to Trolls to Ghouls, but this visitor was hard to identify. The skin was thick, hairless and a dull grey. The broad flat feet were bare and only had three toes. The hands were similar, with a thumb and three fingers which ended in sharp claws. The crude robe had no pockets, so no helpful clues would be forthcoming.
Argent studied the dead face. It was as distorted as the body, with a conical skull and huge floppy ears which reached from jawline to the temples. One staring eye was twice as big as the other and set an inch higher. From the wide fanged mouth, a purple tongue hung out. Death had not given this creature any dignity.
Standing up again, Sheng thought furiously about the best move to make next. He felt a twinge at realizing that he missed having Uncle Pao around. The old man was a barrage of complaints and insults but his advice was always sound and he was a better sidekick than Sheng usually admitted. The day before, Sheng had sent Pao to Hong Kong to spend the week of his seventy-third birthday with extended family. Uncle Pao had resisted and said it was too expensive a gift, but the old man had obviously been pleased and even touched.
Ah well, Sheng thought. He had expected that working without Uncle Pao constantly ragging him would be a relief but right now he had enough self-awareness to admit that he had gotten used to the old pain in the neck. Even though Pao was not literally his uncle, since all of Sheng's blood relations were still in the adjacent realm of Chujir, the Chinese custom of addressing friends and co-workers in family terms had established their relationship firmly as wise elderly uncle instructing young nephew.
Something strange was happening to the body in front of him. Sheng sniffed and made a disgusted face. Was it his imagination or was the corpse beginning to spread out on the floor...? He rushed to the closet to get an old rug with the intention to getting it under this decaying mass before it ruined his floor.
Footsteps on the stairs. Light, rapid footsteps hurrying up from the second floor. Now what? Sheng drew on his gralic attribute, channeling force to reinforce his body structure. He could become faster or stronger than normal if he chose, but when facing something undetermined, he usually went for resilience. In a flash, his bones became dense as granite and his skin like flexible steel. Sheng leaped for the office door and collided headlong with a petite blonde.
Ashley Whitaker bounced off him as if she had dived full tilt at a wall. She gave a yelp and landed sitting up in the middle of the empty hallway. Immediately, Unicorn rebounded up on her feet again and drew herself up to a full five feet zero of indignation. "Sheng, what's your PROBLEM!? Is that anyway to treat a teammate?"
At thirty, Ashley had never been more gorgeous. The silvery shoulder-length hair shone in the subdued light, the delicately-chiseled face with those crystal blue eyes was almost perfect. More than a decade of Kumundu training and the Tagra diet had refined her to a slim athletic peak. She was wearing white as usual, sneakers and jeans a long-sleeved pullover and a light windbreaker with dark blue trim on collar and cuffs. Fastened across her back was a white leather sheath three feet long, tapering at one end to a point. This held the actual Unicorn horn that was her talisman and which inspired her war name.
Sheng had long since gotten past being influenced by her looks or by her chirpy persuasive manner. As KDF members, they had gone through so many violent and horrible experiences that they shared the bond of combat veterans. "Look, Unicorn, you ran into me, remember? What are you doing here in the middle of the night anyway?"
Adjusting the strap across her chest so that the horn was balanced, the little blonde scoffed. "I'm doing what any Tel Shai knight and KDF member should be doing, sticking my nose into the dark scary corners of the world. I've been chasing a creep. Oh heck, is that him on the floor?"
"What's left of him anyway," Sheng said. He fought down an impulse to gag at the stench. The burlap had flattened on the wood as the creature's body dissolved in a vile dark goo with the consistency of stale maple syrup. "Ugh. I wish he hadn't done that. Vampires are more considerate, they fall apart into dry dust."
"Phew!" agreed Ashley. "Damn. That's an odor you don't forget right away. Okay, Sheng, break out the cleaning supplies. This mess isn't going to get any sweeter if we leave it like this."
( the rest of the story )
