The Strange Cases of Detective Warren Stevens
The Strange Cases of Detective Warren Stevens
The Present
Zach finally opens his gift and gets much more than he could have expected.
Now, what will happen now? How will Warren & Alex stop it? Can they stop it?
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. Presents. This is such a nice thing to get. A new coat. Or a scarf. A nice ring. Or a hair ornament. Perhaps a box of sweets. Or my favorite. Assorted nuts. Today. Today we'll pick up where we left off. Zack's birthday. And he finally opens Cassandra's thoughtful gift. But before we do, let me first remind you that this podcast may contain images of graphic violence, child endangerment, adult situations, and naughty, salty language. Now, let's unwrap our own gift on this Tentacle Tuesday with another chapter. As we turn the page to chapter 4. The present. His dad, if it was his dad, seemed so different, so angry, so the pain from where he had punched him still ached, and a deep purplish bruising had started to form. Why? Why was this happening to him? He had lost his mom in an auto accident, and his dad remarried, and had been barely part of his life, and Dot. He looked across the room. The packet from Cassandra was still sitting on his desk. Either Dot didn't care about it or its contents, or she had inexplicably missed it. When they ripped out his computer and game system, getting topic was nearly enough to make him double over again. So he gritted his teeth and sat back down at his desk. He looked at the simple brown and paper twine that wrapped it. A hundred to one, it's a book, Zack figured. I mean, she's a nice old woman and at a tea shop. What else would she give him? Oh well, I have nothing better to do, as he pulls the twine off and carefully undoes the wrapping paper. Not a book. A box. A wood box that looked ancient and somehow seemed to emanate a static charge. The box, a ten by ten, a deep green with a blue cover. The cover would slide off like an old cigar box. On the blue cover was an interesting design. The picture of a tentacle reaching up to the stars and wrapping itself around the blue world. Whoever drew this too many horror flicks, he mumbles. And he slides the cover off to reveal a book! A simple leather-bound book with a black hand and an eye at its center. That and a red candle, matches, and several pieces of chalk. Oh bother. She can't be serious. A spell book? What a bunch of He goes to touch it. Ow! No way! Could this really be real? Gritting his teeth, expecting another shock, he picks up the book. Nothing. Opening the first page, Zack stares in almost awe. An illuminated gold-like page with red lettering meets his eyes.
unknown:Wow!
SPEAKER_00:That's beautiful! It was a note from Cassandra. Happy birthday, Zack! This book contains dreams, powers, and opportunities. Use it in a private location and let it guide you towards your future. A future that won't be so painful. Painful? It had definitely been painful. He pondered, where could he go that would allow him privacy and a chance to study this? He didn't want to take a chance that his dad and his stepmom would catch him with this. The woods. But the creepy man. Hmm. I could ask Alex to help. He wondered, but something told him that she wouldn't approve of this, so. The woods and the abandoned cabin it is. He looked at the time. It was nearly eleven, closing the box back up and grabbing his backpack, a pen flashlight, and prying his bedroom window open, Zach jumps out into the night. He quickly looks back at the house. It was dark, he was not being followed, and no one had heard him leave. Good. I want to see where this book will take me. Now, I don't know if you've ever walked in the woods after dark, but it's a completely different feeling at night. The tree limbs look like arms reaching for you. Eyes of cats, owls, deers, and raccoons all shine in heaven forbid. The breeze blows. Shrieks, snapping, whirling leaves. Yes, the wood in the day and the night are two completely different animals. This was something Zack found out very quickly as he stumbles over even the smallest root or branch along the same dirt path he took earlier that morning. A few times he nearly peed himself at the sound of something snorting, growling, or even howling as they disturbed the cold, eerie silence as he marched along. The cabin, he thought. More a dilapidated shack in actuality. He had hoped the wild man didn't live there. He hadn't been there in about three years. He and some friends had hung out there playing all sorts of games. Until some older kids gave them the boot. And honestly, after he saw what they had done here, none of them ever wanted to go back. What if they're here? Unlikely. 1120, half moon in a blustery cold October night? No. If the wild man wasn't here, the cabin would be empty. Upon seeing the cabin, Zach nearly turned back. Like a charred piece of wood against the black background of the night, surrounded by trees, trash, and heaven knows what else, it was not a hospitable place to approach or enter. Even under the moonlight piercing through the clouds above, it reminded Zack of a black tombstone. Swallowing hard, he aims his flashlight at the walls, empty window frames, and a wide open doorway. Several used condoms lay rotting, scattered about that, and a few panties nailed to the doorframe like trophies. About three years ago, he and his friends wouldn't really have understood, but still, the cabin seemed to scream to him, yuck. Inside an old stained mattress lay on the floor, beer and wine bottles scattered about, and the remnants of a fire pit dug out of the dirt floor. If the wild man had lived here, he wasn't home. And besides the level of ski being 5,000, the place was empty. Finding a clean spot, he plopped down on the corner of the mattress and lit a few candles left behind by whoever was here last. Opening the book again, he began to become enamored by its pages. One spell in particular caught his fancy. It would make him a walking chick magnet. Hmm. Would that mean anyone I want? He blushed at the thought of being able to have Michelle. Or better, Alex. The temptation was almost too much to resist. The idea of any woman. Now that's a birthday present. Thank you, Cassandra. I wonder if that means she wants me to use a spell so I can even have her. I mean she's old, but hey, who cares? He follows the instructions in the book, drawing out strange patterns on the floor. It wasn't like those satanic pentagrams you see in the horror movies. It was more like drawing a doorway or an arch on the floor. Patterns and symbols go along the frame and finally a line down the center. Now for the key. The red candle lighted and it will open. Okay, I will. He picked up the red candle. It was warm, odd. He placed it on the keyhole at the center of the door, and the doorway lit up. Like the paper began to glow a gold color. Each symbol takes its own light. Then he watched as the doors actually open for him. A person takes form in the growing doorframe. Slender, beautiful, dark hair, and sultry eyes. Hello, Zach. It's a pleasure to meet you, she says as she steps forward. Everything about her screams beautiful, her bare skin nearly porcelain in color. Cassandra said you were handsome and well curious. And I'm pleased to see. She was correct. He swallows hard. He had seen a naked woman before, but not so close. Not so um, he said, as she begins to undo his shirt, kissing him as she does so. This seems a little fess. I don't even know you. She pulls back, feeling a little hurt. You don't? We've chatted so often online, you even invited me over for your birthday. Yes. The kissing became more intense, and who was he to say no? Her mouth locked onto his, and things began to blur into flesh, touching, and then something slipped down his throat, causing him to choke. He pulled back for a second, sputtering as if he swallowed her gum. Sorry, I don't worry about it. Should we continue? He nodded yes, even though he felt as if something sat in his stomach. Cupcakes? Who knows? Did it matter? He was getting lucky. He woke up the next morning naked, but back in his bed. Had he dreamt it? Swinging his feet onto the floor, he checks himself over in the mirror. Everything looked in order. He could even see the love bites running down his chest towards his belly button. It had definitely been real. It was odd though. The bruising from his dad's punch was gone. He thought about the whole thing for a moment and began to squirm a little with excitement as he began to relive last night's events in his head. He checks the time. It was late. He'd better take a cold shower and run to school. Damn. Drying, he paused again. Dark lines seemed to run down from his belly button. He touched them. They hurt. Scratches? Did Nicole do this when he quickly shook off that thought. He had to get to school and see the result of how this chick magnet spell worked. Finally done dressing and not seeing Dot or Dad and running late again, he decided to risk the woods. Halfway through, he saw the path that cut towards the cabin and thought about checking it out, but the squirming sensation in his stomach didn't feel uncomfortable enough to continue towards school, just in case he was going to be sick again. There was a memory he wished he could forget. So embarrassing. He hadn't got another 50 feet when he heard someone call his name. He stopped. It was raspy, as if someone was struggling to breathe or trying to get his attention.
unknown:Zack!
SPEAKER_00:He stopped and looked around.
unknown:Zack!
SPEAKER_00:There, off the path, strung up on the tree was the wild man, covered in bruises, lacerations, and a sign around his neck. Loose lips. Holy shit! He begins to dig for his cell phone and remembers Dot and Daddy taking it last night. I'll run and get back. No. Sorry. So sorry. The voice held no rhythmic changes, but just pain something else. Something that made his blood turn cold. Zack! He choked out. They did this to me. They did this to us. They needed to separate us. Dad? Hey, kiddo. Sorry I missed your birthday. Dad! How the fuck? Who was that last night? Who? Stay away from Dot. She's not human. She's his eyes rolled up and his body goes limp. Oh Dad! He didn't dare to go back home for a knife to cut him down. He would have to hit the sheriff's office and he doubled over with pain. It was as if something was crawling inside him. Ugh! He cried, catching himself against a tree where his father hung, and tears opened his shirt. The black marks have extended outward. What is this? Someone! Please! His eyes rolled into his head and he blacks out, not seeing the person watching him from afar. Silas had watched through the trees as Zack made his way from his parents' house. Things had gone almost a hundred percent according to plan. It would have been a hundred percent, but she showed up. Her last name may be different, but Silas recognized Alex Kuchma. It was the old man pretending to be her father that hadn't confused. Who was he? He had been through all the records the cult had provided for him, and only two matches showed up. Jack Stevens, a human that had served as the founding member of the Sacred Dawn. He was said to have the powers of an angel, but he was dead. That he was certain of. The other was of Warren Stevens. But he had died saving Alex. No record of him has existed for over seven years. So, a distant cousin? Just a name being used to try and troll the Cadig order. He wasn't sure, and by day's end, that wouldn't matter. The first part, securing and distorting the boy, had already been completed. Next, tonight, he and Cassandra would open up the gate for Ekmalak, and before that, Alex Kuchma would die, begging for her life. That was something he couldn't wait for. But now it was time to bring Mr. Taylor to his final destination. He turned back to a figure standing in the shadows. I need some men of mud. Create them for me. Dot knelt down and scooped together some dirt and sticking her hand down her throat, pulled out a slack-like pouch with white, wormy things clinging to it like maggots on a piece of rotting meat, spitting on the dirt mounds and pressing a worm into each of them before raising her hands above them. Sparks of electricity shot out of her hands and into the mounds as a body and limbs formed around the fleshy worm-like thing that would serve as a nervous center for its brain. Sitting up, rising, they bowed first to Dot and then to Silas. Bring him, he stated. Matter-of-factly, and they lifted the unconscious boy and started to carry him off where they would use him. Dot hurried next to Silas, almost like a schoolgirl trying to impress her crutch. Did I do well, sir? Satisfactory. She frowned. If he does indeed become a gate, will you give me what you promised? And what was that? A life of my own! Silas found it fascinating how these husks seemed to always yearn for a real existence. A life for a mere puppet, a thing. It all depends on what your mother Cassandra thinks. Cassandra, she was what Jack is to the Sacred Dawn, the mother of the Cadric Order, and literally to all the husks. Dot hung her head and followed along. She had played her part. Would mother let her live? Would she get Zack to raise on her own? She looked at the boy being carried. Deep down she had wanted to be a mother to him, but her role was to make him ready for becoming a living gate. A living gate for Ekmalock to return in.
unknown:Uh-oh.
SPEAKER_00:Zack swallowed something and it wasn't gum. It seems a seed has been planted, and Zack is about to become. Become what? Well, that's something we'll have to find out. But first, we'll turn back the clock once more, as Warren not only admires his coffee shop, but entertains another visitor. As we look to get a better picture of how all this comes together. With chapter 5, Warren Stephen.