Friday, October 17, 2014

Paranormal S.W.A.T. #8 pt 2.

Hey all, With another week having passed I'm posting the next part of my latest Paranormal S.W.A.T. story as October and the festive season continue. Tonight, we meet the owner of the Wonderland Club and learn why our heroes have been summoned, what could possibly go wrong. If you want to read from the beginning head over to part 1 If you'd like to see the entire team from the beginning head on over to Cul-de-Sac to Hell  for their first adventure.

Paranormal S.W.A.T. 
Supernatural Weapons & Arcane Tactics
Falling
Down the Murder Hole


“Traditionally, you would ask me.” Sarah wasn’t sure where the man in the immaculate white suit had come from but he now sat in the booth with them. If Griffin hadn’t been holding her hand she’d have gone for her sidearm. “After all, I am the clubs owner.” He sat there calmly twisting a glass of what might have been scotch, he seemed to be waiting for something.

Griffin turned to look at the handsome man sitting in the booth with them and instantly tensed. “Mr. Goodfellow, you’ll excuse us if we pay our bill and leave.” He leaned over to Sarah as he took his wallet out of his coat pocket, “Kick off your shoes, we’re going to need to run.”

Mr Goodfellow laughed. “Doctor Wells, you are so transparent. I mean you and Detective Parker no harm.” Sarah stiffened at the use of her name and title. “Keep your wallet, dinner is on me.”

Griffin stopped moving he sat there for a long moment and then very slowly began to speak as if he was choosing his words as carefully as someone stepping through a minefield. “Mr. Goodfellow, while I appreciate your generous and thoughtful gift, I am unworthy of such a fine and welcome consideration. I humbly decline your offer, and thank you for the thought.”

Mr. Goodfellow laughed again, it was crisp and musical. “Griffin, may I call you Griffin?”

Griffin paused again. “Yes, you may call me Griffin.”

“Thank you, and please call me Robin, both of you. The gift was neither generous nor thoughtful. It’s twenty seven dollars in booze and steak that I would have charged you a hundred and thirty dollars for. Besides it would be rude of me to charge you; seeing as I invited you here tonight. Well, I invited Detective Parker.” He turned to Sarah. “May I call you Sarah?”

“Um…sure.“ Sarah was confused. The way Griffin was clutching her hand was as if he was afraid he’d lose her if he let go. He was clearly afraid of this Mr. Goodfellow. She looked at him trying to decide what made him such a threat. He wasn’t particularly imposing; while it was hard to tell with him sitting down she thought he couldn’t be more than five foot six. He was thin, somewhere between sickly and athletic. He didn’t even look particularly threatening; with his tousled blond hair and Errol Flynn goatee he actually looked quite charming.

He smiled at her. “Thank you, dear Sarah.” He leaned back in the booth and sipped his drink.

“What do you mean you invited us?” asked Sarah. “How?”

“As I said, I invited you, the fact that Griffin joined you is a happy circumstance.” Mr. Goodfellow sipped from his glass. “I will admit I had hoped for more of your friends when I sent you officer Jones’ file. It had to be properly amended to include my club but I knew as soon as you received it you’d gather your compatriots and head this way.”

Sarah tried to raise her hand to the table but Griffin wouldn’t let go so she gave up and looked at Mr. Goodfellow. “You sent me that file? How did you get it?”

Griffin spoke before Mr. Goodfellow had a chance. “We don’t need to know that.”

Mr. Goodfellow laughed. “It’s alright, to get what I need I fear I will have to give this information freely.” He sipped at his drink once more. “Though I see that you are knowledgeable to the means and manners of the courts. To ease your mind; I promise in the name of the old Laws that as long as we all sit in the booth I will give any information I can free of charge or deception. Do these conditions meet with your agreement?”
Griffin nodded and let go a Sarah’s hand. For a brief flash Sarah could swear a slight chill swept through the club and was gone. She took a moment to flex her fingers to get the blood flowing back into her hand then leaned forward to look closer at Mr. Goodfellow. “That seems to have handled everything. Do you want to explain what’s going on here?”

“Not particularly, but I see no other way.“ He finished his glass in a single gulp then placed the glass on the table and flicked the rim with his finger, after a second a perfect chime rang out and the glass filled itself with the same liquid he’d been drinking before. Sarah had seen better working with the guys so paid little attention to the act. “As I said this is my club. I love clubs. I’ve owned taverns, brothels, hovels, inns, and way stations. There is nothing like the American invention of the club. Your Prohibition did a wonderful thing inventing clubs. They are crowded with humans at their most decadent; filled with intrigue, excess, lust, pain, passion, pleasure, and a cavalcade of boisterous play.”

Griffin took a bite of his steak. “That’s fascinating, and exactly what does it have to do with what’s going on here?”

“You should have been born earlier. Langston Hughes would have loved you. However, to the point. I’m not the only one who loves these clubs. Thus the King in order to prevent full on war over these fine establishments has declared some of them neutral ground, mine included. I think he’s still angry at the little joke I played on the Queen.”

Griffin placed his fork down and picked up his glass and took a sip through his straw. While he did Sarah noticed as a quick motion of his other hand let him slip his knife up the sleeve of his coat. “You tricked her into falling in love with a Jack Ass.”

“All in good fun.” Mr. Goodfellow look wistful for a moment and sipped at his drink. “Alas as my club is neutral ground I may not act to directly interfere with the actions of other members of the courts. One of them has decided to start using my club to sell a particularly potent Pixie concoction to mortals with the help of a local criminal group. I honestly don’t care what humans choose to put in their bodies, no matter how lethal, but he’s doing it out of my club. And once again, they meet tonight in my own private party grounds to thus taunt me more.”

Sarah leaned forward. “Why not go to the authorities, human or otherwise?”

“I’ve tried. The King doesn’t want to hear my dissatisfaction, and has doubly forbid me from seeking revenge. Were it up to me I would have removed his agents myself, it’s been so long since I’ve been allowed a good flaying. Alas, I may not touch my adversary for he is of noble blood and his vassals have been given his protection as well.”

Griffin leaned forward. “Noble blood? Do you seriously want us to go up against a member of the High Court?”

Mr. Goodfellow laughed a loud. “No, I would sooner send butterflies to stop a hurricane. No, a minor prince, a foolish elemental of by gone years, a foppish boy whose witch mother gave him a title and an island. A bug of a fairy. A Tempest raging against a world that no longer finds him necessary. noble only in tradition not in position.”

“Is there anything you can do to stop him?” asked Sarah.

Mr. Goodfellow glanced down at his glass a dejected look settling over his face. “Anything I did would most certainly cause a war. In and of itself a war could be fun; we haven’t had a good war in so many decades. Even though that sort play would be magnificent, his majesty moves to protect his own plots and practices. So, I am left to find intermediaries.” He let the word drip from his mouth like a snake oozing venom from its fangs. “I thought I had one in your friend when he arrived the other day. Sadly, he was unversed in our ways and quickly revealed himself as an agent of order. They made quite quick work of him. Then they left him for me to be rid of, a hollow husk, broken and forgotten left to my devices as if I were a servant boy.” Mr. Goodfellow clutched his glass in his hand and even over the music Sarah could hear the glass straining and cracking under his grip.

“When I learned who he was it was easy enough to find who his friends were and let information reach the ears necessary for my cause.” He smiled at Sarah. “I was particularly motivated when I learned you were his friend and former lover. I knew you would be immediately drawn to the case. After all, you’re the great Sarah Parker; we all know who you are.”

Sarah felt her mouth go suddenly dry. “What do you mean you all know who I am?”

“I suppose it would be cheating to tell, but I did say I would speak the truth. The stones my dear, it‘s all in the stones…” A sudden burst of thunder outside shook the club and caused the lights to flicker. A long bolt of lightning struck the roof shaking the skylights and causing the copper frames to spark and glow. The club grew quiet and then everyone cheered as the music started up again. Griffin grasped her hand again. Mr. Goodfellow let out a hearty laugh. “What fun. It seems I may have said too much.”

Mr. Goodfellow slapped his hands on the table. “Enough of this. Shall I introduce you to the horrible man who killed your friend?” With that Mr. Goodfellow quickly stood and stepped out of the booth. Sarah felt the shiver of cold once again.

Griffin swore. “Nicely played.”

Sarah looked at both men for a second unsure of what had just happened. “What are you talking about, what stones, and where are you going?”

Griffin released her hand. “Forget it, he left the booth, the deal is over. He won’t answer any more questions. Plus, from the thunder I’m guessing he’s really not allowed to answer some of them.”

Mr. Goodfellow signaled to a waitress to come to the table. “You‘re reading far too much into the weather my friend.” The waitress he’d signaled arrived at the table bearing a serving tray with manila envelope on it. He smiled at the young woman and indicated Griffin. The woman removed the envelope from the tray and placed it in front of Griffin with a heavy thud before smiling sweetly and walking away. “I took the liberty of having one of my people pick that up for you. Before you refuse, it‘s not a gift. It‘s one of yours.”

Griffin gingerly took the package and slowly opened the flap and peered inside as if expecting a snake would leap out a attach itself to his face. With a slight chuckle Griffin tilted the package and poured a pair of black knuckle dusters into his other hand. “Cold iron knuckles. One of the fey’s greatest weaknesses. My God you are a trusting fellow.”

Goodfellow bowed slightly, “I appreciate the compliment. However, I’d say I was more calculating than trusting. I’ll wager even if you wanted to take a swing at me, your friend wants to know who’s in that back room even more.” With that Goodfellow bowed deeply at the waist with a flourish of his hand before straightening and walking away.

They sat there in silence for a long moment and then Griffin looked at Sarah. “It’s up to you. What do you want to do next?”

“Do you think we can trust him?”

“Absolutely not.” He said it with the certainty that rocks are hard and the sky is up.

Sarah sat in silence for a long moment. “If I can find out what happened to Danny back there, I have to go.”

“I thought as much.” Griffin stood from the booth and slipped the cold iron knuckles into his pocket. He offered her his hand and helped her up from the table. They walked towards the mirrored hallway at the back of the club.

Griffin reached down and grasped her right hand and held it as they walked down the hall. The music faded behind them leaving nothing but the clip clop of their own feet on the checkerboard tiled floor. The mirrors on the ceiling reflected the floor causing Sarah to have a momentary flood of vertigo as they advanced. The mirrors reflected their images in an oddly distorted way the caused them to look as if they were both passing and approaching themselves at the same time. They also had the occasional flash of what could be mistaken for a third or fourth person skipping along in some of the mirrors.

The end of the hall split in two directions a small road sign post stood at the end of the hall. The green post of the sign gave the impression of a long green carpet stretching down the hall in the mirror before them. It had an arrow going off to the right that had a silhouette of a woman and read THIS WAY in a loopy gothic script. The sign pointing in the other direction had a silhouette of a man and stated THAT WAY. A third arrow pointed back towards the club and read HITHER.

Griffin began to squeeze her fingers tighter. “Those clever bastards.”

“What?”

“We are about to enter the most dangerous place we have ever been. Don’t do anything unless I tell you, do not touch any thing or one, and most importantly do not eat or drink anything they offer no matter how tempting. These things have made a centuries-long career out of getting mortals to do the wrong thing; remember that.”

“Okay.” Sarah could feel her legs begin to shake as her adrenalin began to race through her veins.

“Take a deep breath.” Griffin had the tone she’d once heard from a member of the bomb squad as he was disarming a particularly nasty device they’d found in a park.

Sarah inhaled and tightened her grip on his hand. Griffin moved forward without any further word and the two stepped towards the mirror at the end of the tunnel. There was no flash, no whiff of magic, they moved towards their reflection and then their reflections were gone. Before them now stretched a long hallway with a small strip of plush green grass like carpet lying up the middle of the floor. A small arrow was attached to the mirrored wall behind them, it read YON and pointed in the direction they now faced.

Sarah looked around for a second and then released Griffin’s hand. “Wait, how did we walk through the sign post if we were holding hands?”

“There never was a sign post, it was always just grass. We just thought it was a sign post.”

Sarah looked at the three inch strip of greenery and realized that Griffin was right, it was a small patch of very well trimmed grass, like the kind she’d seen on putting greens. The tiles on either side of it had been seemed to disappear into the small bit of soil the grass was planted in.

They began walking up the long hallway, the mirrored walls had been replaced with long shelves of books, toys, and other knick-knacks. A small doll that looked like a lost child, a book titled The Indiscrete Roman, a porcelain tea set for four missing a cup. As they moved up the tunnel she studied the items and wondered what they might all be and where they came from. There were things on the shelves that held crude and almost mishandled craftsmanship like a hand-stitched jacket with a third sleeve and a broken zipper stitched together from deep blue leather with one long red seam down the side. Then there were pieces so meticulously intricate that their beauty caught her breath like a cherry red jewelry box lined with a purple silk inlay that held a small hand stitched pillow. On the pillow rested a gold heart shaped locket sitting open with a picture of a young woman looking longingly into the empty panel on the other side.

As they moved slowly down the tunnel she could hear the tinkling of brass notes and sitting just beyond a well-used teddy bear sat a broken and worn music box. A one-legged ballerina twirled in jerking spirals around a warped stand as a nearly familiar song creaked and tumbled it’s way out of the tinny little machinery inside. She found herself slowing to hear the music and as she watched the little ballerina came to an unsteady halt and the music died. She felt her body jerk as Griffin snapped her away from the shelf her hand reaching out to turn the ornate platinum key that twinkled from the boxes side. Sarah felt her eyes focus on the world away from the music box as she looked at Griffin. “What happened? I didn’t mean to touch it.”

“I know. It wasn’t your fault.”

“What is that thing? What are all of these things?”

Griffin sighted and started leading her up the hall again. “People, souls, memories, any and all of those. Sometimes people get lost in the Fey Lands and make the wrong choice, a bad decision, or foolish deal; this is what becomes of them.” He gestured to the shelves around them. “These all represent someone in some very abstract way. An instrument might have been a musician, a clock could be someone obsessed with getting places on time, a plate may have been a cook. Each of these things are a sort of trophy, the quality represents both the skill and value of the person as well as the challenge in tricking them.”

Sarah looked at each of the items that lined the shelves and started doing a series of terrible calculations in her head. They’d walked maybe fifty feet and passed sets of shelves with clusters of items. “There are hundreds of things here.”

“I know, as I said they’ve been doing this for centuries.”

As they continued to walk Sarah watched in horror as more and more items spilled past them, she barely noticed as the strip grass began to widen until it covered the whole of the floor, she took almost no stock in the sounds of conversation and jazz that flowed up the tunnel to them.

Nearing the end of the tunnel Sarah looked forward to see a large antechamber, a great round room in the center of which stood an immense marble statue of a little girl in a dress who couldn‘t have been more than twelve. The statute towered over them standing nearly twelve feet high resting upon a gold base carved with leaves, vines, mushrooms, and playing cards. On top of the pillar, surrounding the girls feet were several animals, humans, and chess pieces. Two long billowing cloud shaped trails carved of ivory rose up over the top of the small child and ended near her shoulders. Over her right shoulder the cloud ended in the front legs and head of feral and vicious looking cat, it’s face contorted into a wicked grin. The other side ended in the upper body and long empty neck of a brutal and muscular demons body with long sharp talons for fingers. It took Sarah a moment before she realized that the head for the creature lay on the ground tucked up against the side of the statue. It was hideous, with empty eyes and long slavering jowls surrounding a mass of razor sharp teeth.

Sarah felt her breath catch in her throat. “That poor girl.”

Griffin put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to him. “Don’t worry. This is a good one.”

“How can it possibly be good.”

Griffin rubbed her back between her shoulders for a moment. “The fey love their trophies and tricking humans and winning is one of their favorite things in all the world. The thing is for all the vicious cruelty that they unleash upon people they admire and appreciate skill, luck, and talent when they see it. The most magnificent trophies are of the ones that got away. There names and deeds are the ones that go down in the annuls of fey culture. They become so revered and talked about that the stories spill over into the mortal realm. Their trophies become the gatekeepers of the realms so that people are always given warning of what is to come and what they must do to survive. We are in a truly interesting place.”

“Because of who she is?”

“How do you know her?”

“Like you, I’ve heard the stories.” Griffin stepped to the side and bowed before the statue. “It’s a tradition here, it’s hoped that by paying a slight tribute to her we will be aided in the same way she was helped. If you want, you should curtsy.”

Sarah tried her best to comply drawing from the few older movies she’d seen where people did that sort of thing. “Who is she?”

“Isn’t it obvious? This is Alice.”

Sarah looked up at the statue again and wondered if it was what she was expecting from tonight and wondering if she had gotten in over her head. She looked at Griffin as he stared up at the statue and drew strength from his presence. She was certain whatever was coming the two of them could handle it. “What next?”

“We step through the door.” Griffin indicated an odd shaped blue door on the other side of the clearing, it was wider at the top than the bottom and the right side stood taller than the left. Griffin took her hand again and they walked towards it. As they reached the door Griffin took a moment to look back at the door and smile. “I’m told There is a six-foot Adam made of bronze and chrome in a forest by a cave.” With no other words he opened the door and stepped into madness.

end pt. 2
Go here for pt. 3 

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