“Wasn’t good enough, wasn’t nearly good enough. Made friends with the cat - how it struggled when I killed it. Fresh, blood still hot; poor little thing, I didn’t want to kill it.” Jim shook his head, his gaze downcast, “Not good enough. I tried to run and found I couldn’t; she had me. Tried to give her my own blood, thought that would be good enough, thought that might shut her yap - I thought wrong.”
“You’re not well, Jim. You need to see a doctor,” Norgie said, gesturing with his arms for the man to calm down.
“She’s shouting. Still shouting!”
Norgie saw the keen focus return to Jim’s narrowing eyes. Noticed the subtle shift in position: shoulders lowering, legs bent at the knee; noticed the dirty shard of glass, clenched so tight in Jim’s fist that blood welled around the web of flesh connecting thumb and index finger. Then Jim leapt.
Reflexively, Norgie brought his arm up and felt the shard of glass bite deep into his wrist. His other arm was already in action, connecting the rum bottle with his attacker’s head. It made a dull thud to the side of Jim’s temple and the old man’s body dropped to the ground like a discarded doll.
Norgie stepped back, clutching his injured arm and finding the glass imbedded an inch deep. His thick coat had taken most of the damage, but he could feel warm blood running freely through his fingers to drip onto the floor.
“Crap,” he muttered as he yanked the shard out, releasing a steadier flow of blood. It must have nicked a vein. He needed to get the cut seen to and fast. There was no telling what he would have picked up from the glass. It was probably the same thing used to kill and cut open the cat and mice.
Jim’s body lay face down in the mouse blood. His arms and legs bent at odd angles.
“Jim?” offered Norgie, nudging the unconscious man in the ribs.
There was no response although he could make out the gentle rise and fall of his chest and a watery rattle from his phlegm-filled lungs.
The steady dripping sound of his blood focused him on the red patch it was creating as it slowly became a puddle. It fell into the centre of an empty circle of chalk scratched runes where it coalesced and spread toward the outer edges. The shape was roughly the size of a saucer and soon filled, although his blood didn’t run over the lines. Mesmerised, he struggled to look away as the entire circle turned black, reflecting his face back at him from an onyx surface. A layer of frost formed at the edges, the runes glistening white as they grew thicker.
Norgie shivered, a chill shaking through him as he watched vapour leave his mouth. The entire cellar fell icily cold. Steam began to rise from his hot blood as it dripped from the wound. It took all his effort to squeeze the sleeve of his coat and cut the flow off but by then, the entire circle had filled, and it appeared something was moving at its sticky centre.
A large insect struggled out of the blood. It dragged its elongated body from the puddle with long front legs, smearing blood across the white runes. It was spiky and black, like a strange hybrid of praying mantis and beetle. Standing tall on its back four legs, it clicked sharp pincers in the air as it wriggled free of the blood. It had a thick triangular head with red bulbous eyes that sat atop vicious mandibles. It stared at him as it worked its head along bent forelegs, cleaning the blood from sharp claws.
Ugly little thing, he thought, as it made several strange clicking sounds.
Tak...tak...tak.
There must have been a deep hole that he hadn’t noticed, a trick of the light giving him the illusion that the creature crawled out of his blood. He bent down to take a closer look at the strange insect that looked like something from the depths of hell, yet Norgie felt as though it was himself that was being inspected.
Suddenly, the insect leapt at him, landing on his injured wrist and sinking its mandibles into the open cut.
Yelping, Norgie flicked the thing from his hand. It flew through the cellar and landed on Jim’s back. Thin legs kicked as the insect righted itself before crawling to the unconscious man’s neck and biting down.
“No, you bloody don’t!” Norgie growled.
He landed a kick on the creature which sent it hurtling against the wall where its body made a satisfying crunching sound, then slid to the floor.
Norgie bent, thinking he’d drag Jim’s body out of the blood but as he slipped his hand beneath an armpit the unconscious man began to convulse. He was shaking like he had been attached to the electrical mains.
Norgie stumbled away, his heels caught on the same brick he had tripped over before and he fell onto his back, knocking his head against the floor and jarring his teeth.
Rising into a sitting position, he shook the fizzing white dots from his vision. When they cleared he saw that Jim had not only stopped shaking but was standing up. The old man flexed his fingers and arms as he rotated his head around, as if stretching after a run. In fact, he was even smiling. No, not smiling, grinning.
Norgie climbed groggily to his feet.
“You’re looking brighter; you sick old git,” he exclaimed.
Jim’s eyes flicked to him. The strange grin widening and seeming not to belong to the Jim he knew but to a malicious being who had taken over the old man’s body. He opened his mouth wide as if to reply but only a sharp clicking sound reverberated from him.
Tak...tak...tak.
Norgie backed away, accidently placing his foot on the circle his blood had soaked into. It didn’t meet resistance and carried on through. His teeth jarred for the second time that night as he landed hard on his rump.
Using his hands, he scrambled back, dragging his leg clear from the hole which had swallowed it to the knee. God only knew what else might be down there ready to crawl out.
“Calm yourself, Gatekeeper,” Jim said, stalking closer with the grace and confidence of a predator. “I’ll be as gentle as I can. Unless you struggle.”
“Stay away from me. You’re sick, Jim. You need help,” Norgie blurted, as he backed against the wall, feeling his bowels loosen.
He glanced to the window, seeking a way to escape but no sooner did he avert his attention than he felt a vice-like grip on his injured wrist.
“What the hell do you want with me?” he screamed at the demented creature, as it dragged him with superhuman strength to the circle of runes, then held his injured arm above it.
Norgie struggled against him, throwing a couple of punches but it was to no avail. Jim, although the smaller between them, appeared to feel nothing.
“I only need you to bleed,” Jim answered, calmly. An evil grin spreading across his face as his eyes followed the blood dripping through the inky black hole without making a splash or ripple.
Norgie felt weak. Like his body had burnt up his remaining energy and could do no more than sit there, arm held over the hole and watch his blood drip steadily into the circle.
A coldness seeped into his body, paralyzing him as another creature crawled out of the hole within the runes. It was another praying mantis-like insect, dragging itself free and leaving a trail of sticky blood.
It preened itself before the wicked smile of Jim, making those awful clicking sounds that echoed through the dark cellar. Jim replied in kind.
“Tak...tak...tak...Welcome brother,” he said. Then his attention returned to Norgie, the evil grin splitting his cruel face.
“More blood Gatekeeper. My brethren have been patient for far too long.”
