The Strange Cases of Detective Warren Stevens
The Strange Cases of Detective Warren Stevens
Dark Preparations
The following podcast is a work of fiction. All characters are the creation of Peter Williams. Any resemblance to someone living or dead is purely coincidental. Thank you. Preparations are being made to open Zack into a vessel. While Warren discovers too late that Silas has flown the coupe and slip through his fingers. Meanwhile, Alex is in hot pursuit. But before we begin, before we can get to all of that, I need to remind you that this podcast may contain images of graphic violence, adult situations, child endangerment, and naughty, salty language. Now, now let us make preparations of our own this Tentacle Tuesday as we begin chapter 7. Dark Preparations. Silas checked the rearview mirror to make sure the cargo was secure. Although unable to see Zack in the box, he could hear him whimpering, crying for his mommy, crying for his daddy, and even a slight prayer to God. Like he'd help him, Silas laughed to himself. God had let his own son die in a horrific manner to save these creatures that couldn't be bothered with him. All God was to them was an ATM machine, the god of give me, give me, give me. And unlike Santa Claus, they could ask all year round. Because, not being heavily sarcastic here, God wants you to have everything. Disgusting. It was for these reasons he had left the faith, betrayed his calling, delving deeper and deeper into the occult, only the worm cold hard truth. Cassandra had shown him how wormwood wasn't something that come via revelations. It was all humanity was, is, and will always be a sack of walking maggots. They needed to be destroyed. They needed to be removed from creation. That would allow Ekmalak to claim it for his own. He could take this refuse of humanity, molded in his image. A dark, horrific thing that blots out light and sun, twisted bone and flesh wrapped up in a conducive sack, conducive to any environment. More like pods of walking waste than anything else. A poison shadow of pure blight. He plugged his phone and pulled up the map application. From here he could head to the Ipswitch. More precisely, the cemetery there. It was old. Older than humanity thought. There he would hide in the mausoleum until she arrived and the dark ceremony could begin. Oh, he had preparations to make. He would need to strip Zach down to his skis, put oils and paint marks on his skin. It was why they had drugged him, bound him, gagged him. They couldn't risk him getting away. The one thing that had surprised him was how eager Cassandra was to intervene on his behalf with this Stevens fellow. Apparently, they had a past. She wouldn't discuss it, although she asked over and over about a sword. I haven't seen any signs of nor any weapons, he told her. Of course, I haven't been inside the coffee shop itself. Nor could he get inside. Besides, the smell of the place, it gave him a sense of dread. Are you sure about that girl being Alex Kuchma? Yes, mistress. I would recognize her anyway. Fine. I will leave the girl in your hands, Silas. But that man, Lauren Stevens, he's to be mine. As you wish, he replied. It disappointed him that he failed to get Alex. He had plans for her if he did, but every time he neared that coffee shop, he could feel someone, something eyeing him. The box behind him began making a thumping sound. Ah, the boy must have woken up. I wonder how he likes his coffee. He could hear Zack banging on it a couple times, and Silas couldn't help but mock him. Yes, who is it? Oh never mind, it's Zack, right? Enjoying your view? That's right, there is none. How about the velvet lining? Nice and smooth, mm? Nicole says you likes nice and smooth things to play with. The box went back to being quiet. Four more hours of this. He wondered what else he could do to help darken the mood. Music. Bad music. No, not Enya or Siya. They're bad, but he needed something that could make a man lose his mind. Kids' songs, of course. The wheels in the hurts go round and round, round and round, round and round. The wheels in the hurts go round and round as Zack heads out of town. The box began to thump hard for a moment or two and then went quiet again. And once again, he could hear Zack whimpering. Warren stared at the small motel just on the outskirts of West Hollow. It was your classic Roach Motel. 15 small rooms set in rows of five in an L shape. Not many cars were parked here. Business was more of a nighttime affair than 1300 hours. That's 1 p.m. for those who don't know military time. Yes, of course, there were some unsavory deals going down: a rusty-colored band in one car with vapor rising out of its windows, a few lost souls lying by doors under makeshift blankets, and an old lady half in, half out of a dumpster. Putting down his binoculars and opening up the card where he grabbed a sack of sandwiches, and then Warren trekked down towards the place. He quietly distributed a clip of$200 per homeless person along with a meal, and then calling over to the old lady, he hands her the rest of the sandwich. Little did she know that each one had$100 attached to them. He hoped. And if you're wondering, Warren didn't need to worry about money. Jack had left enough to build a kingdom, and his own retirement had kept him fed and warm too. Finally, finished with his good deed, he approached a room Silas was renting. He looked for traps. He had nearly lost Donaldson in one year ago and promised never to allow that to happen again. Nothing. The door was unlocked. That meant nothing good would be on the other side. Drawing his gun, he turned the knob and aimed a flashlight into the darkness. He could hear something slithering inside.
unknown:Crap.
SPEAKER_00:There was definitely something waiting to greet him here, and he was pretty sure who. He pulled back the hammer on the old colt and swung the door open. A flash of red eyes met him, and the sound of sawing teeth met his ears. Cassandra congealed herself into a familiar shape, the form of Geraldine Hicks. That won't work on me, Cassandra, he barked. I know she's dead, and I know shooting you won't hurt her. Oh, but it makes me feel so much more alive. She mocked. I mean, if we're having a touching reunion, I might as well dress appropriately. He raised his gun at her sadistic smile and pulled the trigger. But she shrank back downwards into something smaller, something even more painful. His 10-year-old son Jack now stood looking up at him. You're not gonna shoot me, are you, Daddy? The moment of hesitation crossed Warren as Cassander shot an oozing tendril of black elk across the room, just nearing his heart. Warren grimaced at the pain as blood spread across his chest. The gun goes off, missing, and Cassander smiles at the detective's pain. You're bleeding out, Detective! Why I am in no distress whatsoever. That's how it appears, Warren retorts. And unlike me, you will die again. That would seem to be correct. But I'll tell you what, Detective. Huh? Warren showed no concern as he continued to bleed. Cassandra reached towards him, expanding to a form that could be best described as a bubble. I wouldn't want to deny that darling girl, her latest father. Let's take this to your coffee shop, where I can leave you like a crucified rat on the cafe wall. Warren gives her a half-smile. Don't underestimate Alex, Cassandra. She may be able to do, but I could not. This time Cassandra sneers. I told you, I'm immortal. I am the end of all things. The bubble overtakes Warren, who can only barely keep his grip on reality as the darkness surrounds him. I see, he said as he began to drift into unconsciousness. You are the embodiment of the labyrinth. All those things they hear, trapped inside you. Cassandra didn't bother to respond. Instead, she liquefied and slid herself towards the sink and into the drainage. She traversed the sewers and circumnavigate the defenses of the cafe. There she would leave poor Alex another dead parent. How sweet! And just in time for her birthday. Alex pressed Dot into what was supposed to be Zack's seat. Where's Zack? I don't! Don't you dare say you don't know, Husk! I have no issue burning you here and now. But if I tell if you think that Cassandra bitch is bad. The energy around Alex begins to swirl, and Mr. Howard goes weak in the knees. He's being transferred to an ancient graveyard in um Ipswich. Ipswich?
SPEAKER_01:That's over half a day away.
SPEAKER_00:Yes, and by now, Master Silas will have gone far enough ahead to He never finished the statement. Alex turned and struck him so hard he flew backwards into the blackboard. Really? Alex replies to the unconscious teacher. Then you won't mind me boring your car keys. It wasn't long before Alex was downstairs in Mr. Howard's RAV 4. It had some nice being a push start and a decent sized view screen to display maps on. She plugged her phone in and pulled up the old cemetery in Ipswich. She knew Warren probably didn't have his old flip phone on, so she decided to call the cafe instead. They had a landline there for business purposes, and they also had an answer machine. You have reached a wayward coffee shop or away at the moment. Please leave a message. Dad, it's Alex.
SPEAKER_01:They've got Zack. And they're headed to the old cemetery in Ipswich. I am in pursuit. Dad, you were right!
SPEAKER_00:They plan on using him for a vessel for the line went dead. She tried to check the connection, but she had plenty of bars. Why? She wanted to check on him to make sure the old man was okay. But if she did that, Zack would definitely be lost. Possibly humanity too. Damn it! She pressed the accelerator and made sure she had Donaldson's badge information ready if she got pulled over. She would have to hope that Warren was right, that she had backup coming. With that thought, she decided to make another call. Call Caitlin Maxwell. The screen lit up and the phone began to dial for Cafe Solfeggio. Luciano had insisted that they at least had a dumb phone after the Paladin incident. Too much time was lost relying on either Maggie or reaching Caitlin on her landline. Time. It was something she had very little of right now.
SPEAKER_01:Come on, answer, answer. Cafe Solfeggio! Yes. Hello, this is Alex Kutch. I mean it's demons. I desperately need to speak with someone. Either Caitlin or Luciano. Hold on!
SPEAKER_00:The phone went quiet for a moment and she could hear her own heart beating as she waited. Finally, an old, sweet but strong voice answered.
SPEAKER_02:Hello, Alex.
SPEAKER_01:What can I help you with? Caitlin. Oh, thank the word. Is there any way I could reach Luciano? Jonah or Sam?
SPEAKER_00:Alex knew about Sam. She had partnered with Sam a few years ago. It was an odd experience and part of her wish the two of them could have continued to work together, but Alice and Sam had found each other accidentally. Their bond and friendship was something that Alex could never imagine interfering with. What's wrong, dear? Alex explained everything as she drove. Like before, the line went quiet. Finally, Caitlin spoke.
SPEAKER_02:I look confirmed with Sam, and we will get seven to back you up as soon as possible. Thanks, Caitlin. Alex? Yes. Be very careful. Tie it away for us. Engaging on your own could cost you.
SPEAKER_01:We can't afford to lose you right now. Copy, Caitlin. Copy. And trust me, I know.
SPEAKER_00:An unanswered call. A bleeding detective. A race to Ipswich. And a dark being taking revenge. What will happen? How or will Warren escape? Find out as we turn to chapter eight. Fading Souls.