Chapter 12: His Final Moments (Part 1)
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It was half past noon when they arrived at Lucien’s flat. Murphy helped carry Pyewacket to the second floor of the brownstone house, despite much protest coming from the familiar.

When Murphy entered Lucien’s flat, the faint smell of coffee and a hint of aftershave greeted him. It’s not a big space but adequate enough to accommodate two people. He particularly loved the large bay window in the living room. He could imagine Lucien spending most of his time on that spot, looking out at the bayside and into the streets below. The adjacent kitchen and dining areas were tiny, which makes sense because he figured Lucien is not the type who does a lot of cooking, given his hectic schedule.

Lucien managed to decorate the place and fill it up with tables, shelves, a couch, and some chairs. But there were no pictures hanging on the walls. It felt like home to Murphy but there were no hints of Lucien’s life in it, which was a little strange.

They carried Pyewacket towards the couch. “My friend will be here in a few minutes,” Lucien said as he propped Pyewacket’s head against a throw pillow, grabbed a thick wool blanket from the back of the couch, and draped it over his familiar.

“Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” Murphy asked worriedly as he looked around. “Is uhm, your college friend still here?”

Lucien paused a moment then nodded. “Yes, but I think he stepped out for a bit to grab some lunch.”

“I see,” Murphy mumbled as he went around the couch to go into the kitchen and wash his hands. His eyes wandered around as he did, and noticed that there was only one plate, one spoon and fork, a knife, a couple of mugs, and some very basic cookware in the dish-dryer. He wanted to tell Lucien he should prepare home-made meals more often but thought it might be too invasive.

When he got back into the living room, Lucien had already taken off his coat, which was stained with Pyewacket’s blood. “Lucien, are you sure you can manage on your own?” he asked again.

Lucien took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Mr. Odenkirk. Thank you so much for your help.”

Murphy gave him a weary smile. “I would really appreciate it if you start calling me by my name.”

“Oh, uhm…” Lucien gave an uneasy laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably need more time to get used to it.”

Murphy smiled curtly as he headed for the door. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“W-Wait, Mr. Odenkirk,” Lucien called out to him as he followed the other into the hallway. He closed the door behind him and turned to face Murphy. His face was pinched with concern. “Aren’t we going to talk about what we need to do next?” he asked, words laced with worry. “Please don’t tell me to just stay put and not do anything…”

For a moment, Murphy skimmed the other’s expression. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” He sighed helplessly. “Actually, our next best move would be to call the police.”

The look in the other’s eyes was suddenly gray with seriousness. “What are you planning to tell them?”

“Well, I’m thinking we should notify them about Cyrus before the man could even think about leaving Florida.”

“Yes but, how are you going to tell them about Hunter? We don’t exactly know where his body is… I mean, that bastard Cyrus said so himself. It’s going to be a wild goose chase.”

Murphy put a hand over his and squeezed it lightly. He may not be used to calling the other by his first name but in a span of less than 24 hours, he became accustomed to his unconstrained display of affection.

“The thing is – and I hope you won’t get mad at me…” Murphy bit down his bottom lip, contemplating all the implications of what he’s about to say next. “I really don’t want you getting any more involved in this than you already are. Just… please. Can’t you just let me handle it from here?”

Lucien’s eyebrows furrowed. He tried to pull his hand away, but Murphy held it even tighter. “Again, with this? Aren’t you tired of begging, Mr. Odenkirk? You said you’re going to call the cops. What’s there to be afraid of?”

Murphy held his hand closer, looking him squarely in the eyes. “I’m scared. I’m scared about – About a lot of things. When I watched you go into that room, all sorts of morbid things swarmed my head. And with Cyrus… I almost…” He gazed down at their intertwined fingers. “I almost did something that might’ve scared you off.”

“What do you mean by that?” Murphy saw a flare of awareness in Lucien’s eyes.

Murphy sighed deeply as he squeezed Lucien’s fingers with his other hand, and covered his face with the other. “God, if only I could tell you everything. Right here. Right now.” He said it in such a hushed voice, Lucien could barely hear him.

Clearly, Lucien did not understand what he truly meant – which was a relief – because he said, “You saw me take care of that bastard, didn’t you? Wasn’t it enough to show you that I can handle things myself? Besides, we promised we’d deal with this thing together.” It was a wearing argument he knew quite well he would lose, but he stood his ground, nonetheless.

Murphy closed his eyes and suppressed a laugh. “I didn’t promise you anything, Lucien. If memory serves, I asked you not to get involved with this matter in the first place,” he said, not mincing his words.

“Then you could’ve settled it with Hunter nine years ago.”

Murphy ran his hand down his face, clearly exasperated. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I should have. It’s my fault, okay? I’ve created this mess, so let me clean it up myself.”

Lucien crossed his arms. “Too late. You guys already got me involved in this. It’s no longer just your own mess to deal with. Now it’s mine, too.”

Murphy didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad at the other. “I’m not sure that’s exactly how this is supposed to be… but okay.” And then he said, “You’re so admirably resolute – but in all the wrong ways, Lucien Salverson.” He lifted Lucien’s hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles before letting it go. “Do me a favor and don’t do anything reckless. Okay?” He stared at the other, waiting for a response.

Lucien’s cheeks bloomed with red as he averted his eyes. “No,” he replied obstinately, his voice low yet firm.

Murphy chuckled as he turned away and made for the stairs. “You’re supposed to say yes, and I don’t like that stubborn side of you.”

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket, exploding into song. He hoped it was not anyone from work or worse, Audra. As he pulled it out to check who the caller is, he paused as Blake Gao’s name lit up the black screen. He turned to Lucien, waved his hand and said, “I’ll call you if anything comes up. Until then, please stay put,” before he hurried silently down the stairs.

Lucien waved his hand absently as he went. “He’s definitely treating me like a kid,” he muttered crossly to himself as he stepped back inside the flat.

 


 

Murphy answered the phone as he neared the final flight of stairs. “Hello,” he greeted in a low, soft voice.

“M-Mister O-den-kirk.” The voice was so faint that Murphy could barely make it out. He said hello again, only to hear the voice of someone crying on the other end of the line. Murphy’s heart sank. “I-It’s me, Blake Gao.” Murphy listened in, straining his ears to pick up the muffled sounds of the man’s voice, sobbing.

“Mr. Gao, is something the matter? Are you alright?”

“Mr. Odenkirk… Mr. Odenkirk, where is he? Where’s Hunter all this time? I need to know where he is…!” Murphy heard a gasp, followed by uncontrollable crying.

Murphy quickly got into his car as he clamped the phone closer to his ear. “Mr. Gao, you have to calm down first. Take a deep breath. You’re all right. It’s all right.”

For a full minute, there was silence on the other end. The crying had abated, and breathing slowly, Blake spoke in a small and weak voice, “Nobody’s seen Hunter… Nobody’s seen him all these years. Not his Mom, not any of our friends, the church members… nobody.” His voice cracked again, and he was back in tears.

“Did you get to contact Hunter’s family?”

“Yes…” Blake’s voice quivered, and he sniffled a bit before he continued. “They… They haven’t seen him since he left home. They have no idea where he is, Mr. Odenkirk! Don’t you know how long that’s been? I couldn’t even begin to count! It’s been too long since someone’s seen Hunter…!”

Murphy ran a hand over his mouth and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick. He tried searching for the right words to console the man, but he just didn’t know what to say.

“This is all my fault. I’m to blame. I was blinded by my anger. I was so jealous and mad and just… I wasted too much time. I’ve always been thinking something might have gone wrong, but I was stupid. I didn’t do anything at all. Nine years… Nine fucking years when I could’ve gone in search of him!” And then, he uttered the words Murphy was afraid to hear from him: “Please… Please tell me Hunter’s still alive!”

A deep sense of sadness and guilt soaked through Murphy’s chest and stomach, and he could feel a lump forming in his throat. “Mr. Gao, I… I can’t possibly give you an answer I myself am not sure about…” It was agonizing but he had to hold on to this lie for just a bit longer.

“Is he hiding from me? Is he afraid I’m still mad at him? Is that why he doesn’t want to come to me, Mr. Odenkirk? If so, then you can tell him I’ve already forgiven him. Tell him – Tell him I’m no longer angry. Everything is well and fine. He just… He just has to come back. Please!”

Murphy bit his lip. For a moment, he turned his attention to the worn-out wallet Lucien had left in the cup holder on his car.

It took much convincing and persuasion for Lucien to let him have the wallet. It was only when Murphy explained he needed to keep it as evidence and that Blake might want to see it, that Lucien finally decided to hand the wallet over to him.

“I went through so much trouble just to get it,” Lucien mumbled disappointingly.

“What sort of reward do you want? A pat on the head? A kiss on the cheek? I can give you both,” Murphy joked, but the other shot him a sharp look instead. Lucien has a pale and clear complexion, but a crimson flush quickly rose from his neck and spread over his face.

But now, even that short-lived happy thought failed to bring a smile to Murphy’s face.

He held the wallet and took a closer look at it. Lucien might not have noticed it but the coffee-colored stains on its face were dried-up blood.

Murphy swallowed hard.  He didn’t want to see how its owner met his fate. Yet he might have already come to a point where he had to.

He unfolded the wallet. A piece of paper had fallen out of it and dropped on his lap. There was a driving license, some bank cards, convenience store point cards, receipts, and a photo of Hunter and a much younger Blake. They were both wearing matching red T-shirts, Hunter kissing Blake on the temple as the other was smiling ear to ear.

Strange, there’s no money in it, Murphy thought. Cyrus must’ve stolen them already.

He then took the piece of paper on his lap and carefully unfolded it.

He knitted his eyebrows. It appeared to be a note written by Hunter. While his initial writing appeared to be random scribbles, Murphy soon realized it was a draft for a travel itinerary. He remembered Blake mentioning an overseas trip, something Hunter had been planning for a long time. Was he finally able to save up enough money for it? Otherwise, Hunter would not have planned such a detailed travel plan.

He stared vacantly at the piece of paper, before Blake’s voice snapped him from the momentary trance.

“I’ve filed a welfare check on Hunter at the local precinct,” he said to Murphy. “They told me I couldn’t file a missing person case, since Hunter left home at a legal age and did so voluntarily. And besides, I’m not a family member... Am I – Am I really not Hunter’s family? So then, what am I to him, Mr. Odenkirk? It’s not fair… Not fair at all.” He gave another sniffle before continuing: “Even until now, his mother refused to forgive him. She didn’t even try to communicate with him in all these years. Hunter refused to talk about her and their situation but, I know it’s breaking his heart. It’s been almost two decades. How can she even endure that long and never even tried to get in touch with her own son? She’s so heartless…”  

Murphy folded the paper and put it back into the wallet. He figured Blake should see it once everything is brought to light.

Everything, including the truth.

“Listen, Mr. Gao. I really regret to tell you this but I’ve no new information on Hunter at the moment,” he said apologetically. “And I’m really sorry things turned out this way. It was right for you to report a welfare check. I understand, it’s something that should’ve been done much sooner but please, don’t blame yourself over this. Don’t stress yourself too much. I… I want you to focus on your family instead, Mr. Gao.”

“I know… I know…” Blake whimpered. “I’m trying my best to focus on Sam and Dakota. I really am. I want to stay on the right path. I don’t want to drift in the wrong direction. But… there are moments I feel I come up a little bit short of my best...” Only his unremitting, choking sobs broke the silence occasionally, until finally he managed to say, “There are times I couldn’t help but think of Hunter. I miss him so badly. But I know it’s wrong… It’s so, so wrong… I think I’m about to go crazy…”

Another very long pause ensued. Murphy stared at the wallet and thought he should make up his mind. He should put a stop to Blake’s suffering once and for all.

“Please allow us to handle this, for the time being,” he said, finally breaking his silence. “The soonest you’ll hear from me again will be tomorrow. I promise you that.”

“…Alright.” His words somehow managed to calm Blake down a bit. “If you have anything to share – anything at all, Mr. Odenkirk, please don’t hesitate to give me a call. I’ll be waiting. And… I’m sorry to bother you with this.”

“Don’t be, Mr. Gao,” Murphy softly spoke, clearing his throat and thoughts. “I know this is a heavy burden to bear. I’ll try my best to help you get through this. Besides, Hunter is also a good friend of mine. I want to help you both as much as I could.”

After a couple of minutes, Murphy ended the call and let out a long sigh.

What now? Where do I go from here? He banged his head against the steering wheel, two, three times, before he slumped against it. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down as he felt the first hints of another migraine coming on.

He took out his phone and held it for a minute. He decided to send Lucien a text:

 

 

13:07

 

Mr. Gao just called. He filed a welfare check on Hunter. Just want to let you know.

 

 

A minute later, Lucien replied:

 

 

LUCIEN  13:08

 

He’s clearly on to something. Did you call the cops already?

 

 

Murphy started to type again.

 

 

13:08

 

No. I’ve decided to tell him everything tomorrow. It’s time to put an end to this.

 

 

He thought for a moment, and then sent a follow-up text:

 

 

13:09

 

Consider this problem solved.

 

 

Lucien’s response came immediately.

 

 

LUCIEN  13:09

 

????

 

 

Murphy set the volume of his ringer on silent and dropped the phone on the cup holder next to Hunter’s wallet. Knowing Lucien, he would demand an answer, but Murphy was not willing to deal with his stubbornness at the moment.

Besides, Lucien would not be happy to hear about his own plans. It was best to leave him out of it. For good.

 


 

Murphy Odenkirk did not want Lucien to see this hidden side of him. He was afraid he would scare him off. But after realizing that the other man might just possess the same abilities as his, he figured it was only a matter of time before they discover each other’s secret.

Just not now, he told himself as he took Hunter’s wallet and placed his hands over it.

It has been over a decade since he last performed a memory extraction ritual. His skills have become a little rusty, and now is the perfect time to get his gears grinding again.

He looked around to make sure that the coast was clear. His car may be tinted, but it pays to be extra-careful when it comes to these things. He then turned his attention back on the wallet.

With eyes closed, he started to concentrate so hard his eyelids began to twitch. And then, softly, he began to chant a few words in a strange language from which had long since died off:

“Et subter eam in nebula iacet. Nondum inveni veritatem requirens.”

The words flowed too quickly to decipher, and magic coursed through Murphy’s body.

Sparks – mystic bursts of energy – coursed through him, almost overwhelmed him, until it concentrated into the sigil-like tattoos on his fingers. Even in daylight, the ink glowed brighter and brighter, as his hands pulsed with the enchantment.

Murphy closed his eyes even tighter as he attempted to concentrate the burst of energy in his hands. And then, he felt something crawling on his skin. His eyes flew open, and he stared down at his hands.

The tattoos on his fingers began to move as they glowed, slithering around on his skin like a snake, and slowly crawling down until it coiled up three-dimensionally around the wallet in his hands. It took a moment for Murphy to process what just happened. And then, he started chanting again.

Let me see the unseen.”

Murphy opened his eyes and looked around blearily. He was no longer inside his car. Instead, he found himself standing at the top of a staircase leading down into a basement. His mouth was dry, his throat felt parched. He seemed to be in a hazy dream, but he was fully aware that in part this was real – it had happened. He was reliving the memories of someone else.

He felt as though he was being carried – no, dragged – by something down towards the staircase. He did not feel any pain.

This was Hunter’s memory, or at least fragments of it.

He closed his eyes. And when he opened them again, he found himself confined in a tiny space, barely able to move. He seemed to be surrounded by a thick wall of blue, and something was preventing him from moving. Mud? Quicksand?

Murphy began to panic. He was drowning. Suffocating. He gave a small, sharp gasp and looked up. At first, he thought he was looking at the moon shining above him, waning and then waxing too fast. But it was strangely close.

He realized it was a lid. He was in some sort of container, and someone had slammed the lid shut, with him inside it.

And then, the memory ended as soon as it began.

Terror paralyzed every muscle in Murphy’s body as the darkness around him rushed forward to collide with a faceless terror, as if reality itself had been drawn into its mass. Up ahead, an enshrouding mist parted to reveal a bright light.

Murphy’s concentration broke, fragments of the memories flooded into his thoughts like a torrent of raw suffering and chaos. He felt himself sitting in a warped space, his surroundings twisting and bending with every shift of his sight.

And then, he felt the nerves of his body reconnecting, a spasm of his own consciousness piercing the abyss. He opened his eyes, his vision blurred as he found himself once again inside his car.

 


 

Murphy gasped for air, wheezed and sucked, but a throbbing and relentless pain shot along his hands. Hunter’s wallet dropped on his lap as he squeezed his palm shut. The tattoos on his fingers had returned to normal. Everything was back to how they’re supposed to be, except that something heavy was hanging in the air.

He felt himself whirl out of consciousness, but he managed to fight his way back. Nausea engulfed him and he wanted to throw up. He put his hands over his face in a futile attempt to reorient himself.

Shit… Shit…” he cursed under his breath. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, hands shaking uncontrollably.

“You know, it took a lot of resolve not to let my tongue slip and tell Lucien about this eccentric side of yours.” Hunter’s voice broke the quiet and almost made Murphy jump out of his skin.

He straightened up in his seat, quickly wiped the sweat off his face, and turned slightly around to look at his unexpected companion. “So nice of you to finally grace me with your presence.”

“I’m sorry. Cyrus’ place just… gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Hunter said as he looked out the window.

That is such an understatement, Murphy thought to himself as visions of Hunter’s disjointed memories once again flooded his mind.

“I used to not be able to get inside that house but, lately, I was able to get past the living room and right in front of that room.”

“You don’t know what kind of trouble you were putting yourself into. The demons inside that house deliberately weakened the barrier so you could go to them.” Murphy rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the headache.

“I know,” Hunter said in a deadpan voice. “You know, Lucien did something to get rid of the ones in that room. Or maybe it was that creepy dog of his? I swear, you guys are a bunch of weirdos.”

“Speak for yourself,” Murphy said as he started the engine and backed out of the parking lot. “I guess I’ll have to thank you for keeping your mouth shut, then.”

“Well… I figured you were trying to hide it from Lucien. Fair enough I guess, considering he’s also hiding something from you.”

Murphy’s eyes narrowed down tight. “Don’t tell me anything,” he said after a while, and then his expression softened. “I’m willing to wait for Lucien once he’s ready to tell me everything himself.”

Hunter thought for a moment, smiling as he studied Murphy’s face. “Jeez, I can tell that much just by looking at you. Seems like you’re determined to keep this one this time around.”

Murphy let out a deep breath. “He can be quite a handful, but…” He smiled gently as he looked forward at the road ahead. It was a smile that reflected a willingness to take the risks that lie ahead and a wish for longer patience.

Hunter’s lips turned up into a faint smile as he looked back out the window. “Must be nice, being in love and all…” he said, his voice melancholy.

Murphy bit his lip as a pang of guilt hit him.

“Hey, Hunter?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been meaning to apologize to you. I’m… responsible for prolonging your suffering. I regret it very much. That’s why… That’s why I’ll do my best to make it up to you. I’ll make sure you can leave this place by next week.”

For a moment, Hunter’s face lit up, a warm smile lingering on his lips. But then, his eyes dulled again. Finally, after eight odd years, he was given an ultimatum. But he did not know whether to be happy or sad. Somehow, something is still missing. Something has been left undone.

“So we’re almost at the end of the tunnel, huh? Great… I’m – I’m happy to hear that.” And then, he lapsed into silence, his eyes looking very far off.

Murphy thought for sure he was thinking of Blake. How could he possibly give him proper closure at this point? How could he make it a less painful departure? Will Blake ever learn to forgive him? All these questions needed immediate answers.

But the truth had come home to Murphy the moment he saw fragments of the man’s memories. It would not help to allow a lost soul like Hunter to linger in the mortal realm any longer than he already did. It was simply his time to go.

“I’m going back to Pinecrest tomorrow. Alone.”

Hunter had been anticipating these words. “Typical Murphy,” he remarked, “but the typical Lucien won’t let it slide. That one’s as stubborn as a mule, and you know that very well.”

“He will only find out if you tell him.”

“You must think he’s clueless and stupid. He’ll figure you out even before this day ends – even without my help.”

Murphy shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, what do you want me to do, then?” he replied tartly. “You know I can handle this on my own, and Lucien’s presence only restricts my movements.”

“You know that Cyrus O’Malley is a dangerous man.”

“Which is precisely why I don’t want Lucien to get any more involved in this mess.” Murphy paused for a moment. The conversation felt like a déjà vu. He realized he was just going in circles with the same argument he had with Lucien. “I’m going back to Pinecrest alone,” he said with finality. “From tonight onwards, you should stop pestering Lucien. You’ll have to stay with me from now on – “ But before he could even finish his sentence, Hunter vanished, leaving his words hanging in the air. “Hunter, I’m warning you! I swear! Not a word to Lucien, you hear me?!” he yelled begrudgingly as he stepped on the brakes, almost running a red light. “Why? Why is everyone so goddamn stubborn?!” He groaned as he flung his arms against the steering wheel and buried his head, ignoring the annoyed honks of the cars behind him.

 


 

When Lucien went back inside his flat, Pyewacket was no longer on the couch. The small bloody footprints and droplets of blood on the floor told him he headed for the bathroom. He heard the sound of the shower being turned on, followed by the unmistakable crunching noise of bones cracking and breaking, as Pyewacket shifted back to his human form.

He was still in the middle of his transformation when Lucien stuck his head in the bathroom. Pyewacket’s knees reversed in a grotesque manner, unbalancing and forcing him to the ground. A few seconds later, he was done. He was stark naked on the bathroom floor, blood and molten flesh strewn all over.

“Pye, do you need me to – “ Lucien held his tongue as Pyewacket heaved, lifted up the toilet seat, and began to vomit profusely. He threw up so hard he almost wrenched the toilet seat from its hinges. Lucien hurried towards him, rubbing his back to soothe him. He was vomiting blood and bits of something black. Lucien tried to look away, his own stomach churning at the horrid sight.

“I – I’m sorry,” Pyewacket said in a fractured voice as he rested his head on the cool tile, his face pale and sickly. “That – That demon’s saliva was – was poisoned. I – I needed to flush out all the t-toxins from my b-body.”

When it seemed he had already thrown up everything, Lucien hoisted him to his feet and helped him into the shower. Pyewacket looked up at the showerhead in the seconds before it poured icy relief onto his head and the rest of his body.

After a while, Lucien spoke, “How did you manage to get away from that demon, Argas?”

Pyewacket stared at the blood and filth flowing down his body and into the drain. “… I killed it.”

Fear and worry painted his master’s face. “Were you supposed to do that?”

The familiar continued to avoid his gaze. “I was left with no choice. It was Argas or me.”

“Then… what will happen to you? Will – Will Mammon find out?”

“He already knows by now. I’m just awaiting judgment.”

Lucien cursed under his breath.

Pyewacket cupped his hands together and collecting the water, splashed it onto his face. It was ice-cold and sent a shock to his system, so he did it again twice. And then, he stood up to adjust the showerhead. “It would be much better if you don’t worry yourself over it, Master,” he said. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

Lucien’s lips drew back in a snarl. “What are you saying? Tell me what to do! It was because of me that you’ve put yourself in a really tight spot. I can’t just sit around and wait for someone to take you away and – I don’t know – torture you? Execute you?

“Rest assured, it will not come to that,” Pyewacket said in a deadpan voice.

Lies,” his master retorted. “What’s with you and Murphy casting me aside whenever I offer my help? Do you really think I’m incompetent? That I always need to be protected? That I’m – That I’m fragile? Fuck it!”

Pyewacket did not respond for a moment. And then, he turned to Lucien, looked at him from head to toe, and said, “Then… your body.”

Lucien stared blankly at him for a lingering moment, stunned. “W-What?” he stammered as he swallowed involuntarily and dropped his gaze to the floor. He could feel his ears burning.

Pyewacket grinned impishly at the other’s reaction. He turned his whole body towards his master and reached out a hand to him. “Your blood. I need your blood.”

Lucien looked instantly apologetic, realizing he misinterpreted the other’s words. But he had no idea Pyewacket enjoyed teasing and making him flustered like this.

Lucien took his hand as he stepped into the shower. He rolled up his pants to avoid them getting wet, and then pulled up his shirt sleeve to reveal his wrist. “Here. You need to drink plenty.” He raised his hand to Pyewacket’s lips, but the familiar refused to budge. He wasn’t even looking at the wrist that he so willingly offered to him.

Pyewacket licked his lips. “Master, I need more than just a mouthful.” There was a firmness in his voice, almost as if he were demanding it. And then, his eyes settled on the throbbing vein in Lucien’s neck.

Lucien’s mouth parted open for a moment, and he let out an uneasy laugh. He reflexively placed a hand on his neck and said, “What, have you become a vampire now?” he said flippantly. He expected Pyewacket to make some sort of funny retort, but he remained serious.

“Just once, Master.”

The crimson color had returned to Lucien’s cheeks and earlobes as he stared at Pyewacket. “Will it hurt?”

“I will make sure to be as gentle as possible.” Pyewacket knew all too well that his master is afraid of any sort of physical pain. This time, however, he could not guarantee it would be painless.

Lucien bit his bottom lip. “That’s not exactly reassuring, is it?” He said this as he reluctantly unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, revealing a skin so pale it could have belonged to a marble statue. The shirt fell open at the neck.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Pyewacket whispered as he placed his hands on Lucien’s arms and took a step forward.

Lucien cocked his head back to the side and slowly pulled his familiar’s head to his neck. “What for?”

“Actually, it might be painful.”

Lucien gasped and clenched his teeth as he felt the sting of his familiar’s fangs plunging into his skin. Pyewacket hungrily drew his master’s blood into his mouth and down his parched and lifeless throat. As always, it was sweet and familiar, and he drew a mouthful, savoring its taste. It fed power into him. Lucien was life itself.

He realized he was weaker than he initially expected, and so he took two more mouthfuls of blood. Lucien sensed the moment he swallowed, and his life source began to course through the other. Once finished, Pyewacket yanked him away with a satiated groan.

The color in the familiar’s face had returned almost instantly. In fact, he hardly looked like the same person Lucien had seen just a couple of minutes ago. Even the gaping wound on his shoulder had completely disappeared, as if it had never been there in the first place.

And then… something else had come alive.

Lucien looked down between Pyewacket’s legs and saw his growing arousal. He instinctively looked away, faked a cough, and pressed a hand against his neck.

But the familiar had no intention of hiding his arousal. Between the two of them, he had nothing more to fear – especially when it comes to showing his desires.  

Blood and water soaked Lucien’s shirt. He decided to take it off, grabbed a towel from the rack, and pressed it to his neck to stop the bleeding. Meanwhile, Pyewacket continued to shower as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The bite mark looked even worse than he felt.

“Thank you, Master,” Pyewacket said rather belatedly.

Lucien replied with a soft, “Mm…” as he opened the medicine cabinet and looked for gauze dressings. He was feeling a little lightheaded from the loss of blood.

“Was it painful?”

“… A bit.”

“It will subside in a few minutes.”

“Frankly, I’m more worried about the bruising.”

“Afraid that guy will see it?”

Lucien shot him a sharp look. But before he could respond, his phone pinged, Murphy’s name appearing on the screen as it lit up. He picked up his phone and read the text.

“Blake reported a welfare check on Hunter,” he told Pyewacket after reading the message. “God… I’m pretty sure he already knows what’s up.” He closed the toilet lid and sat down as he quickly typed a reply to Murphy.

Pyewacket had already stepped out of the shower when Lucien’s phone pinged again. He saw the other’s forehead crease as he read Murphy’s text.

“What the…?” Lucien’s phone pinged a second time. “Ugh, what does he mean ‘the problem’s solved’?” He frowned at his phone and typed furiously. He stepped out of the bathroom and paced back and forth at the hallway before finally deciding to call Murphy. “Answer the damn phone, Murphy Odenkirk!”

Pyewacket wrapped a towel around his waist and leaned against the doorway, silently watching Lucien as he marched around, biting his thumb in frustration. Along with the smoking, his master had developed a bad habit of nail-biting whenever he’s anxious or angry. Right now, he could be both.

“Fuck, he’s not answering my calls!” he yelled in frustration as he leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor.

Pyewacket sat down on the floor beside him. “Master, there’s something you need to know about those demons in the basement.”

Lucien quickly raised his head to look at the other. “Oh, yeah?”  His ears pricked up with curiosity.

“Mar’izath and Argas are a special type of demon. They don’t possess a mortal’s body. Instead, they attach themselves to objects that suppress strong malicious energy drawn out from a mortal with so much impurities. And in some cases, from a person who –” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “ – who died a violent death.”

Lucien eyes were wide – not in shock but rather, in surprise. It was not in confusion, either. After the events that took place earlier that day, he had confirmed one thing – that Cyrus had something to do with Hunter’s death.

“They’re… They’re like a parasite,” Pyewacket continued. “They lie in wait in a conducive environment while waiting for a suitable host to thrive and feed on.”

“So, in the case of the wallet…”

“Mar’izath was drawn to it because it had remnants of Hunter’s negative energy – most likely harnessed prior to his death.”

Lucien’s lips moved silently as he contemplated on this. Something else was bothering him. “Then, what about Argas? What was it attached to? Why would it be there in the first place?”

“He was attached to something else in that basement. Something that emitted a strong miasma born out of wrath and violence.” Pyewacket looked at Lucien inquiringly. “Did you get to see what it was?”

Lucien thought for a moment, and then shook his head no. “It was too dark.”

“Well… it definitely has something to do with Hunter. Probably another important piece of evidence to his death.”

“I could be wrong but, could it be possible Murphy has figured something out?”

Pyewacket stood up as he wrapped the towel even more tightly around his hips. “Even if he did, he couldn’t possibly go back to Pinecrest on his own. He’s probably going to report it to the cops and see to it that Cyrus O’Malley gets arrested.” Something sparked in Lucien’s eyes as he said this but for him, this only meant trouble. He regretted what he said almost immediately.

“I know but, I doubt Murphy would report it to the police unless he gets enough evidence to prove Cyrus is involved in a crime,” said Lucien. He was still for a moment. Then something dawned on him. “Damn it. I’m pretty sure he’s planning to gather more evidence.” His eyes were wide with seething irritation. “That’s why he won’t answer my calls. He’s definitely going back to Pinecrest all by himself.” He bolted up and started pacing around once more, tapping his phone on his lips in rumination. “No. I can’t possibly let him deal with this on his own. Damn it!”

Pyewacket rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Master, that guy clearly has a death wish. If he wants to go there alone, then by all means let him go alone. He is no longer our problem.”

“Pyewacket, how could you?” Lucien glared at him, shaking his head in disapproval. “Tomorrow. We’re going back to Pinecrest tomorrow. We’re going to see it for ourselves – cops or no cops.”

The familiar replied with a deep groan. “Is this some sort of race to see who gets to die first?”

Lucien frowned. “Pye, come on. Don’t you want to know what that other thing in the basement is?”

Nope,” the familiar responded flatly.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” said Lucien as he dialled Murphy’s number one more time. Still, there was no answer. He headed to the living room and tossed his phone onto the couch. “If we see another dead body tomorrow, it’ll be on us. So no, Pye, I definitely won’t allow him to go back to that house and confront that psycho bastard Cyrus on his own.”

“I’ve said my piece,” Pyewacket replied, raising his hands defeatedly. Once Lucien makes up his mind, there will be no other way to change it.

“We’re going to have an early start tomorrow. Okay, Pye?” Lucien said as he watched his familiar step into his room.

“What makes you think I’m going to accompany you this time?”

“Because you know I make horrible decisions, and you don’t want me to put myself in danger,” Lucien said to him in a soft, ingratiating voice.

Pyewacket looked at him helplessly, Lucien responding with a grin. There is always that irrational desire to indulge his master’s whims and woes, no matter how risky they may be. And Lucien, in turn, knows when and how to take advantage of this weakness of his. With a sigh he said, “It’s not wise, but I can’t resist you. Believe me, I’ve tried. I want to resist you.” He waved his hand dismissively and disappeared into his room.

 


 

After dinner, Lucien sat by the bay window for a good two hours, enjoying the luxury of a cup of tea while smoking. He was on his second cigarette of the day when he realized he should seriously cut back on smoking.

A while back, he had spent between $600 and $1,000 on physician-prescribed nicotine chewing gum, hoping it would reduce his craving for cigarettes, but it didn’t work. Neither did nicotine patches, which he hoped could wean him.

At the end of the day, he couldn’t bring himself to quit for good. He would try and stop for several months but eventually he’d pick up the bad habit again.

While his mind was preoccupied with these mundane thoughts, he blew a thick cloud of smoke out the window. This time however, the smoke blew right back in his face. He coughed and fanned the smoke out with his hand. It was when he felt a wisp of uneven cold air passing over him.

Lucien realized he has company.

“You really should stop that. Murphy hates smokers.” Hunter’s voice emerged from behind him.

Lucien immediately stubbed out his cigarette and whirled around to face his ghostly companion.

Hunter! Where have you been all this time?”

Hunter spared him a sideways glance. “With Murphy. I, uhm, I was told not to leave his side from now on. But… I figured I should come to say my last good-bye, at least.” He took a deep breath and gave Lucien a melancholy smile. “Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me until now, Lucien. I’m forever grateful. You know, I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you in Heaven. I promise you that –“

“Cut the crap,” Lucien interjected, his face twisted in a mixture of anger and disappointment. “Did Murphy put you through this?”

Uhm, not exactly?”

“Why are you people so adamant about keeping me in the dark? Am I really a nuisance to you?”

Hunter gave him a quick look and smiled nervously. “Murphy’s just concerned over your safety. And I understand where he’s coming from. You can only do so much for the person you care about. So please, don’t get mad at him.”

Somehow, Lucien’s tense expression softened with a dash of remorse. “W-What are you talking about? I’m not that important to Mr. Odenkirk.”

“All of a sudden, he’s back to being ‘Mr. Odenkirk’.” Hunter chortled. “You can be so pretentious, Mr. Salverson.”

Lucien scratched the tip of his nose and smirked. “Whatever. Besides, I will not accept your stupid thank-you and farewell. At least not yet. I’ve decided I’ll return to Pinecrest first thing tomorrow morning and no, you can’t stop me from doing what I want.”

Hunter could only wish he had received the same level of generosity and determination from Murphy nine years ago. He sighed before saying, “You know, I was explicitly told not to let you know but, you and Murphy are my friends now and I don’t want you two to keep putting yourselves into dangerous situations because of me.”

Lucien nodded impatiently. “Why are you saying that all of a sudden? What is it that you’re keeping from me?” He stared at Hunter intently, eyes narrowed as he asked the next question: “Could it be that Mr. Odenkirk is also planning to go back to Pinecrest, alone?”

Hunter covered his mouth trying to stifle himself. “See, this is exactly what I told Murphy – that you’d figure him out even before this day ends.”

“Is he for real?!” Lucien gasped. “He’s seriously going to leave me behind?”

Hunter closed his mouth and made a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips.

Lucien’s jaw tightened. “Ugh, I knew it!”

“Seriously, you lovebirds need to have a serious talk after all of this is over. There’s just too many unspoken words between you two that it stresses me out.”

Lucien’s curiosity cranked up a notch and his brows drew together. “Why, is there something else Mr. Odenkirk’s keeping from me?”

Hunter raised an eyebrow as he gave the other a sideways glance. “Why, aren’t you keeping something from him as well?” he asked, copying the other’s tone of voice.

At this, Lucien was silenced. He scratched his chin uncomfortably, not knowing what to say to the other. Clearly, the spirit knows a lot more than he was letting on.

“See? Too many unspoken words!”

Lucien decided to let it slip for now. “Then, I need you to listen to my request.”

“Well, that depends on what it is,” Hunter replied almost immediately.

“I’ll have a good talk with Mr. Odenkirk one of these days but please, could you not tell him I have plans to return to Pinecrest tomorrow?”

Erm… I’m not sure… Murphy won’t be happy if – “

“You need to pick a side, Hunter Parslowe. Right now,” Lucien said indignantly.

Hunter stomped a foot and gave a huff of irritation. “Stop backing me into a corner. How could you make me choose sides like this?”

Lucien walked past him and headed for his bedroom. “Then I’ll be seeing you and Mr. Odenkirk at Pinecrest tomorrow. Now you can go back to him. We’re done here. Good night!”

“You and Murphy can be such horrible friends!” Hunter yelled over to Lucien before disappearing.

Lucien slammed the door shut behind him, jumped onto bed, and buried his face in a pillow. “Why is everyone so annoying today?” he groaned. He then rolled onto his back, breathed a sigh, and stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment.

At the end of the day, he couldn’t really put the blame on Murphy. His actions are quite understandable. Lucien should at least admit to himself that he had in fact been a nuisance and that he had caused trouble for Murphy several times before.

Besides, part of the blame lies with him since he’s not able to tell the other the whole truth about himself. He just wasn’t ready to reveal a side of him that might be hard to believe and accept…

‘But, what did Hunter mean exactly when he said Murphy’s keeping a secret from me?’ he wondered.

He closed his eyes and knitted his eyebrows as he gave up contemplating it. “Whatever. Two can play at that game,” he mumbled as he tossed to the side and cupped for his phone.

No new messages. He buried his face into his pillow and pushed the phone under it, finally giving up on the idea that he’ll get a reply from Murphy.  

Few minutes later, his thoughts drifted back to Hunter’s situation. He slipped between the sheets and let out an exasperated sigh. He replayed everything that had taken place that day, over and over in his head. No matter which angle he looked at it from, Cyrus O’Malley is clearly the main suspect now.

As Lucien closed his eyes, he was convinced that he could no longer rule out murder.

He grumbled in frustration because there’s no doubt Murphy also had the same thing in mind. Now, they’ve come to a point where they need to get answers to the most important questions: How, where, when, and why?

Tonight, Murphy Odenkirk should have a reason to worry for ever underestimating Lucien’s wit and persistence.

 


 

Lucien woke up when the car finally came to a stop. He yawned, straightened in his seat and stretched his neck from the cramped position in which he had slept. For some time, he could not remember where he was. The early-morning sun peaked through the clouds, blinding him for a moment.

“We’re here,” Pyewacket said beside him, as he pulled up and turned off the engine.

Checking the time, Lucien saw that it was just half past six in the morning. They arrived in Pinecrest earlier than expected. Of course, this would always be the case whenever Pyewacket is behind the wheel.

Lucien looked up and saw the familiar ramshackle apartment in the distance, where Cyrus lives. Pyewacket had parked the car a few yards away, completely out of sight from the house and from prying neighbors.

After making sure that nobody had noticed them, he looked over at Cyrus’ house again and realized that the baby-blue Cadillac was no longer there.

“Shit, are we too late? Cyrus must’ve already left!” Lucien exclaimed.

“Or that guy’s already had him arrested,” Pyewacket said flatly.

“Then Murphy should’ve already called me by now.”

Pyewacket shrugged. “Didn’t you tell me he doesn’t want you to get involved in this? Makes sense if he won’t tell you anything at all.”

Lucien exhaled. “You’re not helping at all, Pye,” he grumbled as he fixed his eyeglasses back in place and stepped out of the car. Pyewacket stepped out the same time he did.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the familiar questioned, a tinge of panic in his voice.

“Oh, I don’t know, Pye, sightseeing, I guess?” Lucien replied sarcastically. He beckoned Pyewacket to follow him, but he didn’t move an inch.

“You can’t possibly be thinking about going back in there all by yourself.”

“Nope. Not alone. You’re coming with me.”

That’s beside the point,” Pyewacket said fiercely. “It’s too risky. Besides, are you seriously considering breaking into somebody else’s house?”

“Pye, come on. Now’s not the right time to be all righteous and – Hey!“ Pyewacket suddenly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him toward the driver’s side of the car. “What’s the big deal?!”

Pyewacket wordlessly pointed to a slowly approaching, familiar-looking car as it turned into the street.

Shit, it’s Murphy!” Lucien rasped as he and Pyewacket both reacted in time, diving for cover behind the car as the red Range Rover passed them by. It was a miracle that Murphy had not noticed his car at all.

Murphy parked beside an abandoned shack just a few meters away from Cyrus’ apartment. For a moment, Lucien and Pyewacket watched as he got out of the car. He looked around furtively and, after realizing that Cyrus might not be home, walked casually towards the porch.

“That idiot! What does he think he’s doing?!” Lucien snapped as he straightened up and bolted towards the apartment house to confront Murphy. But Pyewacket hastily pulled him back behind the car before Murphy could notice their presence. Lucien glared at him as he pulled away from his familiar’s grasp. “Let me go, Pye!”

Pyewacket took a deep breath, trying to rein in his displeasure. “If you’re going to confront him now, you’re going to attract unnecessary attention and rouse the neighbors’ suspicion. Do you guys want to be the ones to end up in jail instead?”

“So you’re saying we should just sit and watch while Murphy breaks into Cyrus’ house? Is that it?!”

“Weren’t you planning to do the same thing just a while ago?” Pyewacket asked searchingly with a raised eyebrow.

Lucien bit his bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do next. “Wait, hold on.” He fished his phone from his pocket and tapped Murphy’s number. He looked up to see if Murphy would answer his call. “Come on. Pick up, pick up…!”

Murphy was standing at the front door when his phone rang. Lucien watched as he pulled it out from his pant pocket and stared at the phone screen. Murphy did not answer his call and just let it ring until the voice mail picked up.

That asshole…!” Lucien cursed, resisting the urge to throw his phone against the ground. “Okay, fine. Break into someone else’s damn house for all I care!”

“I doubt he’s called the police yet,” Pyewacket murmured beside him. “But it looks like he knows there’s still something important inside that house. Otherwise he wouldn’t be breaking in.”

“That Hunter… He’s probably already filled him in,” Lucien seethed with frustration.

Pyewacket put his hands on his knees and straightened up. “Alright, then. We’re done here. He’s solved the problem. Once he gets the evidence, we can just call the police for him and – “

“What the hell is he doing…?” Lucien stopped him mid-sentence as he tapped Pyewacket on the shoulder and pointed to Murphy, who stopped before the front door and placed a hand on the knob. He remained there for a moment, unable to enter. “Of course, you idiot. It’s locked,” Lucien said nervously. For some reason, this frightened him as much as going back into that creepy basement.

But instead of forsaking the front door entirely, Murphy remained standing outside the door. He first looked around vigilantly before placing a hand once more on the doorknob. At first, Lucien thought Murphy would try to wrench the door open but instead, he saw something crawl from Murphy’s hand. Whatever the thing was, it slowly slithered on to the doorknob.

Lucien clapped a hand to his mouth when a gleam of bright white light shone from Murphy’s hand and coursed towards the doorknob. At first, he thought his eyes were just playing tricks on him but then he looked at Pyewacket who also had the same shocked expression he has.

Before they could even recover from what they’ve just witnessed, Murphy had already pried the door open and sauntered inside, moving casually as if he were the owner of the house.

Lucien’s mouth gaped open, eyes wide with disbelief and confusion. “Did you see that? What the hell was that?”

Pyewacket was much quicker to recover from what they’ve witnessed. “Clearly something he didn’t want anybody to see.” He reached out a hand to help Lucien get up his feet. “I told you there’s something fishy about that guy.”

Lucien bit his lip, not knowing what to make out of it.

Pyewacket shot a sideways glance at his master, before stepping back into the car. “What do you want us to do now?”

Lucien sat back in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the thin air in front of him. For a moment he stayed there with his hands clenched into fists. “Let’s just wait for him to come back out. Make sure he’s safe and unharmed.”

Pyewacket gave him a searching look. Lucien had an odd expression on his face, a mix of surprise, anger, and frustration, he couldn’t quite tell. He was beginning to grow impatient the longer Lucien remained silent. He exhaled and said, “Master, it’s about time you confront this man. It’s time to face the facts. He could be the one you’ve been looking for this whole time.”

This was the one thing Lucien didn’t want to hear. He lowered his head and covered his face with his hands, hiding the dismal look on his face. “I know,” he replied, sighing, “I know.”

Ten minutes had passed without incident. Lucien and Pyewacket sat mostly in silence, both brooding over their own concerns.

The heavy quiet in the car was only just broken by the distinct sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of an approaching car. Looking in the side mirror, Lucien could see another familiar-looking car as it rounded the bend, bouncing down the street towards Marigold Lane.

Lucien instantly felt the blood drain from his face and his heart sink at the sight of the baby-blue Cadillac heading towards their direction. It was Cyrus O’Malley.

Lucien and Pyewacket dove forward immediately, ducking low into their seats as the Cadillac passed them slowly. For a few gripping seconds, they slumped motionless, hoping Cyrus would not notice someone in the car that he would want to approach.

Cyrus was by himself. He pulled the car right out in front of the Ferrari, perhaps wondering why something so imposing was parked in such a shady neighborhood. He surveyed the car one last time, spat on the ground, and then moved the car forward. Lucien breathed a sigh of relief as Cyrus drove on and accelerated out onto the dirt road, towards his apartment.

They waited a few moments before they straightened up in their seat and looked up as Cyrus pulled into his driveway and proceeded to his house. Stopping in the porch, the burly man took a quick look over his shoulder before walking up the steps to the front door. He was antsy and paranoid.

The worst-case scenario had unfolded before their eyes.

“Murphy’s in deep shit now,” Lucien hissed as he pulled out his phone and dialled 911.

Pyewacket grunted as Lucien swung the car door open and stepped outside. “You’re seriously going to put your life on the line for this? Are you sure about that?”

“We shouldn’t have waited for this to happen.”

A look of alarm and distress divided Lucien’s face like a shadow. It was enough to tell Pyewacket that he genuinely feared for Murphy’s life more than his own.

It was bittersweet.

“Pye, let’s go,” Lucien said as he hurried towards the apartment house, phone pressed close to his ear.

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