The House on the Corner

Gull City had plenty of black places that stood out from the humdrum of existence. Sometimes they were haunted houses, deserted buildings, little parks where grass didn't grow.

People felt that and avoid those places like the plague.

Sometimes they don't.

5504 Meadow Glen Rd. was such a place. It was three stories of rotted paint, boarded over windows, and a broken set of steps to the front door. A notice from the Sheriff's Department told everyone to stay out.

Sometimes people didn't stay out.

Enter Todd Roberts and James Rose, two ten year olds from the neighborhood. The boys had got into an arguement with their classmates and friends. That led them to making a bet about who could spend a night in the broken house on the corner. It was nothing for the boys to break into the house after arranging an alibi as common as kids.

I'd like to sleep over at his house for the night.

The boys didn't come home. The parents discovered the ruse almost immediately. The police were called. Nothing could be found to point to where they were. The kids in Todd's and James's class stayed silent, knowing they had sent their friends to their dooms.

Three days after the police search turned up nothing, Donovan listened to a plea from a worried mother who needed a man who could find their little boy. The gray man listened to the rest of his messages to see if any other job was more immediate than that. He glanced at his watch, calculated how much time before sunrise. He could get started on this.

Donovan picked up the pumpkin like lantern that was never far from his hand, locked up his house, sealing it from harm while he was away. He got behind the steering wheel of the brown van he drove and started across town.

He thought at the time that it was hopefully something simple he could charge just enough to impersonate the private detective he pretended to be.

The Roses and Roberts had gathered at the Rose house to wait on the specialist they had called. The police had recommended him when their own efforts had failed. The man who walked up to the front door of the ranch style house wasn't what they had expected.

First he was gray, an unhealthy shade that belonged to dead men after an autopsy. Even his hair was a gray, almost white color. He wore a black t-shirt, jodpurs, and boots, almost a polo player's uniform.

Then there was the lamp strapped to his left hand. It was round and big as a basketball, hanging from a metal handle in his hand. A silver chain went from the handle to a manacle around his wrist. An orange flame danced behind triangular openings in the face of it. It sometimes looked like writhing faces to people who stared too much.

"Mr. Donovan?," said the worried lady in the door. She looked like fifty but must have been between 35 and 40. Streaks glittered along her cheeks. Her clothes seemed to have been put on without care.

"I'm Donovan," confirmed the gray man, expression wooden in the extreme. "I don't have a lot of time. Tell me what you want. Your phone call said your son was missing."

"I'm Ardelia Rose," said the woman, stepping out of the way. "I called. Won't you come in?"

Donovan checked his watch, already six, before stepping inside the house. It had been neat but three days of neglect had worked a small toll on it. Another woman and two men waited in the living room at the top of the half a staircase.

"Our sons are missing and we want you to find them," said one of the men. Donovan guessed he was Mister Rose from the pictures decorating the walls. "We'll pay anything."

"I'll look for them," said Donovan, holding up his free hand. "I can't guarantee I'll find them."

"What do want from us?," asked Mrs. Rose, rubbing her face.

"I'll have to look at something that belonged to them first," said Donovan. "So I know I'm on the right track. Then I'll get started."

Seven p.m. came. The moon rode high, part of it missing as it started the long cycle to new, then full again. It had been a full moon when the boys had disappeared.

Gray Donovan walked the street, holding his black lantern high. The flame inside burned bright as he swung it this way and that. Fairy lights danced on the sidewalk as he went.

The parents had wanted to walk with him to search for their children. They didn't quite understand what Donovan planned to do, but wanted to be there if he succeeded. He forbade it, telling them to stay home and out of his way.

Donovan didn't know what he was dealing with and wasn't putting anyone in danger where he couldn't protect him. His lantern could do things, terrible things, but ressurection wasn't included in those options.

And on a job like this, he couldn't afford to be distracted while doing something that could be dangerous. He was tough and fast because of his curse, but even he had limits.

The sparks stopped at the walk leading up to the crooked house on the corner. Pale eyes glittered as they surveyed the scene. The detective swung his light in a wide arc, could have smiled at a new trail appearing off the cracked concrete. The boys had headed to a broken basement window to get inside.

He didn't need his lantern to tell him that.

Donovan decided to try the door. He was too big to fit through that small rectangle, much less his burden hanging from his arm. He paused when he saw the door was boarded over. He paused, but didn't turn away. The wood was no match for his arm smashing it aside.

Orange light cast an eerie radience on the entry hall beyond the door. Dust stirred by his movement, fairy glitter riding it with a beckoning gesture. The boys had came up from the cellar, and moved to the steps. They had decided to go upstairs to explore, or find something to take as a souvenir. The lights didn't go past the second step, nor did they come back and go somewhere
else.

Donovan made sure of that fact with a broad swing of his light.

They had vanished on the second carpeted step like popped bubbles.

The gray man frowned as minisculy as he expressed any emotion. Now the real search started.

Donovan held up his lantern, willing the orange light to play on the stairs. Traces of a door appeared in the air over the steps. Finally a whole spinning cascade of color rotating in the air allowed him to hear the call of things best left to imagination.

He couldn't do that.

That was part of his curse. Once he hired on to do a job, he couldn't stop until he did it.

Donovan stepped into the kaleidoscope, turning into a streak of light before he stepped out the other side. He raised his lantern to let orange flames spill out on the purplish landscape beyond.

One of the things that lived in the place had been standing too close to the exit. The lantern's light ripped part of his tentacles away in fury. It staggered back with part of its shelly skin cracked and smoking.

Donovan slammed it in its head, or what he considered could be a head, with his fiery lantern acting as a mace. The lumpy thing went down from the blow, head starting to burn from the impact.

"You want to live to grow that back," said the gray man, the light giving his skin a purplish tint. "You tell me where you took the human boys you grabbed up."

It grumbled something incoherent in its native language.

"Wrong answer," Donovan said, holding up his burden, the jack o'lantern thing almost laughing at the torment it was going to unleash.

Louder hoots and whistles, and a variety of tentacle pointing convinced Donovan that his goal was a thing covered in coral standing above the horizon. It was a long walk.

"I'm going to let you go," said Donovan. "Stay away from portals in the future, got it?"

The thing shambled away as fast as it could, finally using a jet from among its many limbs to literally fly away. Flakes of shell fell away from the wounds the gray man had inflicted.

Donovan held up his lantern, started walking. He had plenty of time in this twilight dimension, but the sooner he rescued whatever was left of the boys, the better. He didn't expect a cakewalk.

The cursed man grimaced as he got closer to the castle in the sea. Things of plasmic flesh shambled everywhere on its barnacled surface. The walls appeared thicker than any stone battlement he had ever seen.

This might be harder than he thought.

The gruesome guards descended toward Donovan where he stood. His lantern resembled a burning head instead of a piece of black metal with a flame inside it. Tentacles and other appendages reached for him to stop his progress.

Donovan swung the lantern like a mace. He didn't have time for this confrontation. Numbers would bury him if he didn't keep moving. Some of the things grabbed him, but his burden set them on fire as he touched them with it. The gray man shoved forward with his unnatural strength and stamina. The guards kept him out of reach of the jutting doors.

Donovan swung the lantern in a circle to get some room to move. That was the easy part. The hard part was going to be forcing a hole in the shell covered wall in front of him. One of the things got too close, swinging with its whole body, not just its arms and other limbs. The cursed man decided to swing his lantern at it like Babe Ruth. The impact sent burning flesh in a wide swath in front of him. That set more of the creatures on fire which distracted them from what he was doing.

Donovan charged through the burning flames, looking for handholds. Screams of pain and outrage followed him as he started climbing the wall. A couple of the invertebrates were ahead of him, descending to stop his assault. He waited, holding on with booted feet and free hand, swinging the lantern in a fiery loop over his head.

The things stopped outside of his reach, daring him to try to come up after them with his limited mobility. He couldn't swing the lamp and climb. They could get close to him, but not while he was waiting. It was a standoff.

Worse, the boys could be enduring things while he was trapped on the shelly face of the fortress. He didn't have the luxury of a standoff. He couldn't wait for their move. He had to press on through them if he could.

Donovan started climbing the wall, waiting for them to come at him. His reflexes would just have to handle it. He couldn't go any other way, and he certainly couldn't punch through the wall.

Donovan kept climbing. The sqaumous guards moved to intercept him. He knew their plan was simple. All they had to do was knock him off this wall and he wouldn't be able to continue once he hit the bottom. He was too high to survive a fall.

Donovan fended off several whip-like strikes to his arms and shoulders, pushing through the pain. He waited for a bunch of tentacles to descend from the closest one, grabbing it with his above average strength. He used those appendages as a rope to pull himself up before the octopus could stop him. He smashed its head in with his lantern before jumping on the back of the second one.

There was a struggle, and Donovan knew he was outmatched. He pushed off of his opponent, grabbing a piece of the wall higher up. He started climbing again as his opponent tried to keep from falling with appendages snagging anything it could.

Donovan noticed the other things coming, frowned a little but kept moving. Once he was back on solid ground, the odds would be more in his favor. His lantern was an excellent maul as far as these things were concerned, and he had the will to use it to stamp them out.

Donovan pulled himself on top of the wall as the sentinels closed enough to whip at him with their tentacle arms. He dropped on top of a courtyard leanto. He didn't want to know what kind of thing needed to be stabled in this oceanic atmosphere. He held up his lantern as he ran to the edge of the roof.

Distinctly human auras lit up under its influence, showing him the way to go. He jumped off the stable roof, and ran to a pit in the center of the courtyard. It was dark inside that well hole. He pointed his lantern and light flared for him to see.

"Jimmy Rose!," he called. "Todd Roberts. I am here to help you. Shout if you can hear me."

"You have to help us," yelled one of the boys. "There's something down here with us. It keeps circling around."

"Get near the walls," Donovan shouted.

This is a bad idea he told himself. This almost ranks up with that explosion on the docks. Maybe we should rethink this.

Donovan dropped down the shaft, lantern lighting his way. He dropped into some black liquid. It was only up to his knees. Orange flame showed him the two boys near the wall like he told them to do.

He felt something move in the water. This might have been a worse idea than he had thought.

"Let's get you two out of here," Donovan said, holding his lamp up high to light the pit.

The black water shimmered with movement. Something was under the surface, agitated by what he was doing. He couldn't stop. The boys didn't belong here and his curse would not let him back off no matter how much he tried to justify it.

Donovan grabbed Jimmy and Todd and placed them on his shoulders. He grabbed a hand hold and started climbing the walls, lamp swinging from the end of its chain. He could feel disaster closing in from all sides.

He was about halfway up the well when gurgling crept to his ears from below. He didn't need the shouts of the boys to know that the black water at the bottom of the well was coming up the shaft after them. He pulled himself up faster, trying to outdistance the flood.

The black water hit the cursed man, pushing him in front of it. He only had enough time to grab the boys and hold them close as the flood shot him along like a cannonball. The detective rolled over the lip of the well, buffering his charges with his arms. He came to a stop beside a column stuck in the middle of a large basin.

"At least we're still alive," the gray man said.

Tentacles with fangful mouths exploded out of the well. They snapped at the air as more of the black liquid poured from the well's edge, dropped in the basin, and kept going. More and more of the appendages added their presence to the face of the beast.

"I want you two to look around for a way out of here while I keep this thing distracted," Donovan said. "You'll have to hide from the little ones too."

"Let's go, Todd," Jimmy shouted, tugging at his friend's arm as he ran to the other side of the basin. He dropped out of the bowl and kept running. His friend was ten steps behind.

Donovan whipped the lamp around on the chain manacled to his arm. Flame gouted from the triangular eyes in the front of it as it circled. That wasn't enough to keep the thing's mouth from trying to bite him with the multitude of mouths on flexible necks and tentacles.

The gray man didn't want to battle it. He didn't believe that even his curse would help him carry the day. He couldn't let it pass either if he wanted to complete the job. And he would be stuck in a horrible situation if he couldn't complete the job.

Donovan backed to the rim of the bowl he was in. One glance told him that the boys had found a door that could lead outside. The smaller minions would be out there waiting for them.

Time to take a chance.

Donovan jumped from the feeding area, slashed with his lamp at a mouth that had got too close, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He shoved open the door with a shoulder. One of the sentries stood there, wrapped arms and other things around the adventurer to hold him for the mother.

The boys attacked, kicking and punching the resilient octopus flesh. Their childish strength barely moved the thing until Todd grabbed the hanging lamp and swung it against the nearest flesh. Hot metal caused a cloud of smoke and a stink to cause a skunk to be envious.

That allowed part of Donovan's arm to break free. Then he swung as hard as he could at the top of the thing, hoping to hit a head. Flesh burned from the lantern's touch. He pressed his advantage as the hydra slid forward on an expanding pool of water.

Donovan swung again and again, each time with more power as his arm and upper body worked free. Sucker marks covered his exposed gray flesh. He pulled free with one more vicious slam.

"Look out, mister," Jimmy Rose called out.

The hydra had almost reached him, its mouths working furiously at the thought of dinner. It was blocking the door from being stoppered with its tremendous bulk. A intertwining roar escaped its throat as it glared at the cursed man with hundreds of eyes.

Donovan slammed the door on the face of the monstrosity bearing down on him, and his charges. The coral smashed apart against the wrath of the hydra.

"I will never eat seafood again," Jimmy said, scrambling away from the wreckage.

"There's a door at the end of the hall," Todd said, pointing at another coral projection down the dimly lit corridor. "Let's go."

"Run!," said Jimmy.

Donovan swung his lantern against the questing mouths and appendages. He backed up slowly, eyes out for more guards trying to stop him. The black water pooled into the hall under the thing as it pressed the gray man back.

"We can't get the door open!," Todd shouted. "It's locked!"

Donovan glanced over his shoulder. The door at the end of the hall was a solid piece of work with no hinges, lock, or other working mechanism. There was no way he was going to punch through that. He needed something bigger.

Luckily he had something that would work in a pinch with the proper incentive.

Donovan swung his lantern as hard as he could, aiming for any tentacle or mouth that came within reach. He hoped to set it on fire. It wasn't going to be anything more than touching a hot stove burner for a second to the thing he was fighting. If he did it enough times, he hoped that the mother would lose its cool and charge.

He was doing well until one mouth clamped on his swinging arm. The bite ripped the flesh down to the bone. His metal jack o' lantern hung useless on its silver chain, blood dripping down its black surface.

Donovan backed up, suddenly aware that he was about to be ripped apart.

The adventurer fled from the limbs reaching for him. Black water splashed as he headed for the door.

"Get out of the way," he commanded the boys as he got in front of the piece of coral and shell blocking their way.

The hydra had her food on the run. It was a sensation that hadn't filled her mind in a long time, perhaps centuries of human time. She should play with her food more often. The long naps between feedings would be easier to settle into once she ripped her prey apart with her mouths and bunches of limbs.

The only drawback was the drawing of water she needed to leaver her nest at the bottom of the shell and coral cave she had created with the flesh of crustaceans that had came too close to her home.

The prey were juicy enough to let her gather more material to add on to her nest with each feeding. Her children and grandchildren would be well protected when she wasn't active.

This new prey was juicier than the rest. Something in him coursed through his blood, making it taste all too wonderful to her simple palate. He would be a good main course. She might save the little ones for later if he gave her enough this one time.

She reached for that spicy sauce, coasting on the black water that spouted in front of her. He suddenly wasn't there, and pain coursed down her side. There he was hugging the wall.

The hydra tried to turn and deal with her meal in an acceptable manner. Several eyes spotted the door, and a thought that she would hit it no matter how fast she reversed course ran through her mind before her unwounded side did hit the coral shell that she had erected with her own tentacles.

She smashed through the portal, wedging in like a bent sausage in a windpipe. Her mouth pieces and tentacles reached for the bigger morsel. She would gladly let the little ones go to keep him in her grip.

He ran around her flexible limbs, striking with the thing on his arm. Pain ran through her body, shocking her. Never had she been attacked by her food, much less hurt. She twisted, pulling part of the wall down in her effort to be free.

The food fled through the opening she had created with her thrashing. They moved toward the front gate where her children stood guard. She would not be denied a meal by inferior prey gathered by her nets.

The hydra thrashed until her body smashed through the wall and she could direct herself without hindrance. She ignored the pain running down her body. She planned to have her dish served with screams.

Donovan ran, ignoring the wound in his arm as he hurried the two boys in front of him. He could die when he got done with the job.

He would never be so lucky to just bleed to death.

Spears and rocks dropped from an upper gallery as the three ran down a long corridor to the front of the mound. Donovan kept his body between the projectiles and the boys as much as possible. Pain told him that his career as a human shield was a success.

"Window!," shouted Jimmy.

The large irregular hole that appeared in the wall ahead did look like a window, or maybe a small door. One of the sentries climbed in from the outside. That was a mistake for him as the gray man drop kicked him out of the way with curse driven strength.

Donovan paused just long enough to assess the situation. They were high up, but not so high that they wouldn't survive a fall. The children of the Hydra were heading for where he was standing, murderous intent in their ocular organs. A roaring hiss told him that the mother of monsters was coming quick behind him.

Donovan decided that the best thing to do was jump.

He grabbed a boy under each arm, and leaped out into space. He cleared the sentries on the wall and landed in the courtyard with the snap of his right shin. He rolled, trying to cushion the fall for the boys.

A broken leg looked bad for his side.

"Give me a hand," said Donovan, indicating that the boys should support him as he climbed to one foot. They understood they had to be crutches for him if they didn't want to leave him for the fishes. The three escapees fled as the octopi gave chase.

Donovan's lantern emitted a flaming light to show them the way back to Gull City. They could see a crack in the walls of reality under the fiery influence. Donovan pushed the boys through the line in front of him before diving through himself.

"Go home, boys," Donovan commanded. "Your parents are waiting for you."

Todd and Jimmy needed no further incentive. They fled the haunted house they had braved without looking back.

Epilogue

Donovan limped from the house on the corner, pausing to watch it burn in his wake. There would be some talk about the mysterious fire. His name might be attached to it.

Evidence would be nonexistent.

His lamp didn't burn with an earthly fire, and left nothing for the arson investigator to look at except the charred remains of what he touched with it. His blood would be gone with the coming of the daylight as his judgement was enforced with the rising of the sun.

It was part of his burden that he had learned to live with since his Eleanore had found what she had been looking for. He looked at the big watch on his unshackled wrist, grimaced at the fact that he had been gone for only a few minutes from the real world.

He still had hours until he could rest. The blood puddling around his manacle and the bone sticking from his leg didn't matter to his curse. It still beckoned him to look for more work.

He also needed to be paid for saving the boys.

The gray man decided that he could limp the rest of the way to the Rose house, and talk to them about a check. Then he would get in his van and lay in the back until the sun cleared the horizon. That seemed the best plan.

He knew from experience that wouldn't happen.

There had been dozens of cases on his answering machine. Some of them would be simple, some a bit more complicated. He would clear them until something stopped him for the night, or the sun came up. He couldn't refuse a call for help.

He wasn't allowed.

The Roses and Roberts met him as Donovan dragged himself up the sidewalk. The looks on their faces told him that he looked worse than he was allowed to think.

"Thank you for bringing our boys home," Mrs. Rose said. Her husband had Donovan by his unwounded arm, holding him up. "We'll call an ambulance. We'll get you to the hospital."

"No thanks," said Donovan. "I just need my fee, then I have to get back to work."

"No offense," said Mr. Rose. "You don't look like you can hardly move much less drive around."

"He's tough, Dad," said Jimmy. "I want to be just like him when I get bigger."

Donovan looked at the lantern grinning at him as it hung on its chain.

"No, you don't."

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