Goblins (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

In all his years as a cop, Marcus Hale didn't think he'd heard anything as outlandish as what Jed had told him—and that it was meant to be taken seriously. Usually, when someone spoke of seeing supernatural creatures, such as goblins, werewolves, four-headed snakemen or the like, it was due to the fact that he was tripping on LSD or some other kind of hallucinogen.

Hale considered himself well-versed in the ways of reading people. The skill was part of what had made him a good detective back in Chicago, and what made him a better chief. He needed to know what his officers were thinking or when something was on their minds, or when a suspect was full of shit or hiding something. He needed to be able to determine if the mayor was in a good mood. And as far as he could tell, Jed Brewster believed in what he was saying, that goblins were real and the reason kids had been abducted.

Hale thought about simply rising from his chair, grabbing the drunk by his shirt collar and tossing him out of his office. But Jed had intrigued him when he described the creature Hale had seen. Jed could have heard one of the officers talking about the thing, gotten a description that way. Or perhaps he'd overheard details from a third party—a family member of one of the cops. Maybe an overheard conversation in town while he was picking through the trash. He figured most of, if not all, his officers had talked.

For a moment, he tried to consider Jed's tale, if any part of it could be true. It would certainly explain the creature he'd seen. But he was a man who dealt in reality. Fantasy was for movies and books. If such a tale were true, the world as he knew it would be changed forever.

“Let's say what you told me is true, Jed,” Hale said. “Explain how you would know so much detail if the settlers had been wiped out. And how would you know the story from the shaman's point of view?”

“It was all in the journal,” Jed said, sitting up straight. He tapped the side of his head. “But now it's all in here. Memorized. There had been survivors of the goblin attack. The Native American word Croatoan was carved in a tree and on a house. The settlers didn't have much time to do anything, let alone leave a detailed message for John White, their leader, to find when he returned from England. They wanted him to know where to look for the survivors. The islands south of Roanoke were where the Croatan tribes of Native Americans lived. When the settlers arrived there, they told what had happened and why they fled. The shaman who summoned the goblin king was there too. Shortly after, the journal was written.”

“Well,” Hale said, “I've got to say, you've certainly got it all figured out, don't you?”

“I've got nothing figured out, Chief,” Jed said tersely. “The story is real. For so many years I never believed, but after hearing about the kids going missing, the dead families and the creature, it's like I've been awakened. The island's people are in big trouble. If possible, I'd get everyone off it, but no one's going to listen to a drunk. They'd listen to you, Chief.”

Hale stared at the man.

“I know you think I'm nuts,” Jed said, “but we have to do something.” Jed sounded and appeared desperate. He rubbed one hand over the other repeatedly.

Hale pursed his lips and inhaled deeply through his nose. It was clear alcohol had destroyed too many of the man's brain cells. He was a nervous wreck and needed a drink. Not that he wanted the man to drink. Hell, if Jed could quit the booze and get his life somewhat back together again, Hale would be happy for the man. But right now, the best thing was to send Jed home and for the man to have a drink or two. By tomorrow, the guy would forget all about goblins and go about his life like he'd been doing. Hale didn't need any more trouble stirred up from anyone.

Not wanting a scene in his office, he said, “I need a day or two to mull this over. Process what you told me with my second in command.”

“Damn it, Chief,” Jed said, slamming his hands on the arms of the chair. “There isn't time.”

“Jed,” Hale said, voice raised, “I need you to go home now. Get yourself cleaned up. I'll get back to you soon enough. Now that I'm more informed about the situation, I'll be better able to make decisions.”

“I get it,” Jed said. “The words of a dried out drunk are almost as reliable as a drunken drunk.”

Hale shook his head. “It isn't like that. Just go home and I'll get in touch soon.”

Jed stood, thanked the Chief for listening to him, then skulked out of his office.

Hale tilted back in his chair and threw his feet up on the desk. He felt bad for the guy. But goblins? He hoped he hadn't totally crushed the man's heart. Jed needed to be a part of something constructive, but this wasn't it.

The Kidnap Killer—dubbed by the media—or whatever that thing had been, was dead. The people of Roanoke were safe again. It was awful that the kids hadn't been found, but the moving on could begin. Maybe one day they'd turn up, hopefully alive, and if not, then dead. Their bodies would at least give the surviving family members some semblance of closure.

Chapter Sixteen

The following morning, as Hale was pouring a freshly brewed pot of coffee into his to-go mug, he received a distressing call from dispatch. There had been another child abduction, but the latest involved two brothers, Shawn and Eric Bellmore, ages ten and six. As he drove over to the Bellmore residence, he told himself it didn't have anything to do with the other kidnappings. This incident was something different, something innocent. The brothers had gone out without telling their parents and were probably down by the water fishing or skipping rocks.

When he arrived at the house, his heart was letting him know this wasn't going to be a routine, nothing to worry about stop. His cop instinct was screaming at him, telling him something really terrible had happened. His hopeful guess that the boys had simply run off was wrong.

After climbing out of his cruiser, he wiped the sweat off his palms and approached the house's front door and a sour-faced Officer Willows.

“What have we got?” Hale asked, hoping he didn't sound how he felt.

“Missing kids,” Willows said. “Open window. Green ooze.”

Hale felt the wind come out of him and could've sworn his heart stopped for a beat or two. He brushed passed Willows and a crying mother who was speaking with Officer Levy and went into the house. Willows was right behind him.

“Upstairs, Chief,” the tall man said.

Hale charged up the carpeted stairs two at a time. He saw Keller standing outside the kids' room and went in. The covers were strewn off both beds. Green slime dotted them and the floor. The windowsill was nicked up with claw marks. A crushed cell phone lay beside one of the beds.

Hale's hands balled into fists. He didn't want to believe what he was seeing. He wanted to drive home, crawl back in bed and start the day over.

“I want all available—” He stopped himself. A huge alert wasn't going to do squat. If anything, it might scare the kidnappers off or send them into hiding. Locking up the island hadn't worked last time. He'd set up checkpoints on the bridges, but that was all.

“Chief?” Willows asked.

“We know the MO of these pricks. We won't find them. We can't scare them out. Make them do something careless. These are daring, but smart individuals. We keep this quiet. I want all radio communication relating to this case relayed via cell phone. I'm not taking a chance the media finds out by listening in on our channels. We don't need a campout of news vans and gawkers. That's going to be our job.”

The Bellmores were taken to a nearby hotel in Manteo. Only Hale and a handful of other officers knew of their location and room number. Hale wasn't taking any chances.

A perimeter was set up around the Bellmore house, but this time four extra police officers were used. Everyone was supplied with a Taser. Don Standford was also nearby with his Bloodhounds. There was no way the evil sons of bitches were getting away. They'd be hauled in and grilled until they gave up the location of the kids.

He and Keller stayed inside the house while the rest of the stakeout team remained outside. Levy was in a van across the street with Officers Parker, Jones and Deputy Garnett, who was on loan from the sheriff's department, along with three other deputies—all wearing camouflage—who were positioned along the property's tree line. Two more Manteo Police Department officers were in the house across the street. The owners, an elderly couple in their mid 70s, pleasantly agreed to allow the police in their home after hearing about the kidnapping. The couple was told not to share any information with anyone until the suspects were caught. Hale wanted their cell phones and house phone disconnected, but figured they were trustworthy and not about to alert anyone. They remained in their living room and watched television, staying out of the cops' way.

The day moved slowly. The radio chatter was kept to a bare minimum. When night rolled in, a pleasant chill came with it. Hale reminded everyone to take the suspects alive. Of course, if anyone's life was in peril, then deadly forced was to be used.

Hale was staring out one of the living room windows when Keller entered the room. At six-feet-two inches tall and weighing over two-twenty, Keller was an imposing force. He was a serious cop. Not many folks gave him trouble. Off duty, he was a pussycat who spent every minute with his wife and newborn. He wasn't chief material, Hale knew, but was a must for every police force.

“Chief,” the big man said. “I don't mean to question anything or make a fuss, but what the hell are we supposed to do if whoever took the children is a…a…”

“Monster?” Hale said, finishing Keller's sentence.

“Yeah. I was talking with some of the others and they're scared. Between the crime scenes and what we killed, well, I don't think too many of them are going to go for their Taser first.”

“Let's see how it unfolds,” Hale said. “We don't know who's really behind this. That thing we found could be an experiment gone awry. Or, one of nature's irregularities.”

“And if we do capture one, what makes you think it'll talk?”

“One?” Hale asked, keeping his sights on the grounds. “What makes you think there are more of those things?”

“Well, I don't know. I'm just wondering. Sorry, maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. It's probably just being stuck in here with nothing to do for so long and anticipating coming across another one of those creatures.”

Hale understood. His people were unnerved, to put it best. Hell, he was too. If one of those things were coming at him, he'd probably shoot it. Fuck the Taser. But if it were humans doing this shit now, then Tasers it would have to be.

“We don't know much about what's going on here,” Hale said, now facing Keller. He needed to make eye contact. Let the man see he was in charge. Confident. A strong leader on the battlefield made all the difference. He wasn't usually the vocal kind of leader. Leading by example was more his style, but a good, quick solid speech didn't hurt. “The creature you and Levy put down might've been able to talk. We don't know. But what we do know is that the body disintegrated. We need to try and get one alive, if there are others. I'm hoping we're dealing with one-hundred percent human this time. This is our best chance at finding the kids.”

Keller nodded, then said, “Yeah, human would be nice.”

Hale turned back around and continued his surveying of the grounds. Keller got the message and went back to patrolling the house.

Chapter Seventeen

The Shawn and Eric goblins made their way through the woods. They had only been turned minutes ago and were eager to return to their master. They snatched spiders from webs, worms from the ground and various other small lifeforms from their surroundings as they traveled. The morsels were nowhere near as satisfying as human flesh. But it was something to quench their appetites until they had the chance to get what they desired. And when they returned to the goblin king, victorious, they'd be rewarded and given mountains of flesh and have the praise of their master.

They made it past the Manteo High School and into the residential area. They moved in the shadows, avoiding street and yard lights. Motion sensing lights went off on occasion, but the little green creatures darted into the gloom quickly. The cover of night was a blessing and the late hour was necessary. Most houses were dark, the inhabitants asleep. They knew they shouldn't have much of an issue getting to their destination and slaughtering their former parents, especially with the goblin king's knowledge of the surface world flowing through their bodies.

After the Kaley goblin's failure, the king had performed a spell of scrying that allowed it to see what was happening on Roanoke Island. The weak flesh bags thought they were cunning by setting up another trap, but the great demon was smarter. It showed the Shawn and Eric goblins where they needed to go.

They reached a high fence and climbed over it with ease. As they made their way across the backyard, movement from the Shawn goblin's left caught his attention. A large German Shepherd had sprung from its doghouse. The canine wore no chain and was charging at him with ferocious speed, making almost no sound.

The Shawn goblin grinned, completely unafraid. It was eager for an encounter with something other than insects and excited to kill.

The dog drew closer by the second, its breathing heard by both otherworldly creatures. The Eric goblin remained motionless off to the side. The dog continued in a beeline toward the Shawn goblin. Moonlight gleamed off the animal's beautiful gray and black coat, its muscled physique revealing its strength. The Shawn goblin saw no fear in the canine's eyes. This dog was a killer. The goblin's black orbs twinkled as its grin turned into a full-blown smile. It clanked its claws together in anxious anticipation of battle.

When the German Shepherd drew within a foot of the Shawn goblin, the green creature able to see the gray hairs of what looked like a squirrel lodged between the dog's teeth, the Eric goblin launched itself into the side of the dog. The attacking goblin's claws punctured muscle and broke ribs and pierced the four-legged animal's heart. Goblin and canine tumbled sideways. The dog yelped, but only a moment as its heart was no longer able to pump blood through its body.

When the German Shepherd slid to a stop on its side, the goblin was standing on it. Its claws were still embedded in the animal, but not for long. The creature tore its claws free, scooping out as much meat as possible. Blood gushed into the air in volcanic fashion. Strands of fur like ash.

As the Eric goblin chewed what he had taken from his kill, he reached down and tore out its throat, then held up the flesh like a trophy and howled. Blood leaked down its sinewy arm, glistening in the moonlight. Its wormlike tongue shot from its mouth and lapped up the coppery goodness.

The Shawn goblin rushed forward, reached into the hole where the dog's throat had been and yanked out the long tongue. The sluglike meat was devoured in seconds. At the same time, the Eric goblin wrenched open the dog's skull and scooped out brain. The Shawn goblin's next targeted area was the dog's already punctured side. It wanted the internal organs. It peeled back the fur and snapped ribs as if they were twigs to get to the lungs and heart. The Eric goblin joined in, both creatures tearing open a hole large enough to rest a small child in. In minutes, the dog was but a hollowed out shell. When the goblins were done, their bodies glistened in crimson and their faces were speckled with gore.

The meal had been a welcomed one, but not one worth dying for. They'd eaten ravenously, unable to fully enjoy the kill. They had to move, had a mission and ritual to fulfill.

The blood-covered creatures moved on and charged across more yards and roads until they reached the center of Manteo. Shop windows were dark, the streets void of moving vehicles. A gentle breeze blew in, bringing with it the salty smell of ocean air. The place was a ghost town, the area still and theirs for the taking.

The goblins moved quickly, using bushes, trees and parked cars as cover. Though the area seemed abandoned, they knew eyes could be watching from anywhere.

They made it to the hotel, the place their former parents were hiding, and crept along a row of hedges that lined the building. A gray cat poked its head from a hole in the foundation, looked at them and hissed before tearing off down the street. The goblins snickered. The urge to chase it down was strong, but the need to satisfy their king was stronger.

They edged up to the hotel's front door where the hedges came to an end. The Shawn goblin stood on the Eric goblin's shoulders and peered through the front door's glass. To his surprise, the counter area was empty, but a man was sitting in the lounge area, reading a book. The Shawn goblin hopped down, relayed what he saw and then the two green brothers entered.

They cracked open the door and slipped in. Only when their clawed feet hit the tile floor was any noise made. The man reading the book didn't seem to notice them, his attention firmly on the page. The check-in counter was still without a person behind it, but the Shawn goblin heard a ruffling noise coming from a back room at the end of it.

The goblins focused on the man reading, looked at each other, then separated. The Eric goblin made his way along the outer wall and was going to approach the man from behind. The lobby's guest area was carpeted, silencing his footfalls.

The Shawn goblin approached straight on, his feet clacking loudly until he too hit carpeting. But the man had heard the noise this time and glanced up, an annoyed expression on his face. His eyebrows then came together in a look of confusion. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and said, “What the devil?”

The Shawn goblin chuckled and clacked the claws of its hands together. The man sat frozen, as if he'd been turned to ice. The creature growled and narrowed its eyes. The man's mouth fell open and he jerked backward. His book fell from his grasp, bounced off the couch and onto the floor. He pulled his feet onto the couch and stood. “Get away,” he said. “Get away from me. Somebody help.”

The Eric goblin appeared behind the man and was standing on the back of the couch. It jumped down to the seat cushions and slashed at the man's ankles, tearing through his pants, socks and flesh and severing the Achilles tendons. The man screamed and went down. He fell a long way to the floor, used his right hand to catch himself and heard the snap of a bone as his wrist broke. His screams were interrupted by a howl of pain.

The chaos and sounds of human agony were like melodies to the goblins. They salivated for more and for the taste of human meat. But as much as they wanted to dine, they dared not to waste time. Alerting more humans could prove costly and bring about their failure.

The man tried to get to his feet by pushing himself up with his uninjured arm, but it wouldn't cooperate. Blood was gushing from his ankles, the couch cushions and carpeting stained red. He began to crawl, pushing off with his knees and one good hand, but the distance he covered with each attempt proved inconsequential.

The Shawn goblin stood in front of the man's face, their lines of sight connecting. The man screamed in fright and tried to back away. The Eric goblin sprang from the couch and landed on the man's back. The guy's arm gave out and he collapsed to the floor.

The Shawn goblin wanted this kill. He gripped the man by the hair, lifted up his head and raked his claws across the man's neck, removing the voice box, trachea and muscle. Blood spurted over the goblin, drenching his already blood-covered body in a fresh coat of crimson delight.

The Eric goblin snarled, pissed that he hadn't acted sooner and gotten the kill first. He cursed his brother in goblin tongue, then sunk his claws into the corpse's back and ripped out a chunk of meaty spinal column. He gnawed on the flesh until the bone was clean.

The Shawn goblin shoved his hand into the neck wound, found the tongue and yanked it out. It came free with a snap. It was much shorter than the dog's, but looked and smelled so much more delicious. He dangled the taste bud laden meat over his mouth, green saliva flowing, and dropped it in. His mouth exploded with euphoric wonderfulness as he chewed, though the flesh he'd tasted back in the goblin king's lair was better.

A scream sounded from behind.

Both goblins turned around and saw a woman standing behind the counter. She had short brown hair, full lips and emerald-colored eyes that begged to be eaten. Her flesh shone under the light. It was newer, not like the man's, and would taste delicious. His body had been sick—cancerous and rotting from the inside out—and though delicious, not nearly as tasty as the woman's would be.

Green saliva dribbled from the goblins' mouths and splattered at their feet like pea soup as their hunger intensified.

The woman's eyes bulged. Her entire body trembled.

The Eric goblin hissed.

The woman jumped, then spun around and ran screaming back the way she had come.

The goblins were on the move, chasing after her. The Shawn goblin should've taken care of her first. He'd heard someone back there when he entered, but had been distracted by the easy target that had been the book reading man. Like a lion locking onto a specific gazelle.

A door slammed.

Shit, the woman had locked herself inside the back room. The goblins knew about human ways—phones and internet. She would be able to alert the authorities. Men with weapons would come and give the goblins a lot of trouble. If the goblins failed, they'd be tortured and killed, but most of all, let down their king.

The goblin king was powerful, and a full-scale war would happen if necessary, but it wanted the element of surprise. Humans didn't believe in the supernatural, in goblins. It would take the mortals time to react to them. If they knew, they could better prepare. There had been humans that knew about the goblins. Humans that had stopped its army in the past. The goblin king was aware of this fact, but according to the demon, those people were all gone—dead or had moved away—except for one. A lonely drunk of a man who had forgotten and no longer believed. Each generation of humans proved harder to kill and a surprise invasion was what was necessary.

The two goblins found themselves standing at the back room's door. The Shawn goblin tapped on the wood. It was solid and would take time to get through. The good news was that the woman wasn't going anywhere. The bad news was that she could call for help.

The Shawn goblin moved to the sheetrock wall and started punching holes in the weak material. The Eric goblin joined in. Chunks of wall crumbled to the floor as clouds of white powder bloomed in the air. The particles stuck to the blood-slicked creatures, making them appear like malnourished snowmen. As they continued to work, they hit wires, both phone and electrical, and set off sparks.

“Hello?” the woman said. “Hello?” Then: “No, no, no.”

The goblins broke through in no time and burst into the room. They saw the woman, who was harshly pressing buttons on a landline phone. She froze and glanced over at them. She shook her head and screamed, dropping the phone.

They ran at her. She scuttled backward to get away. One of her shoe's heels snapped off and she went down. A moment later, the goblin brothers were on her.

The Shawn goblin raked his claws across her chest, tearing open her floral blouse and red bra. The woman's breasts had deep gouges across them and her right nipple was gone, the thing torn off. She howled as blood soaked her chest. Through it all, she managed to buck the Shawn goblin off her and get to her hands and knees. The Eric goblin clawed his way onto her back and clamped his jaws around the base of her neck. He bit down, his razor sharp teeth easily penetrating her flesh and crushing bone. He tore out a mouthful of meat and spinal column. He chewed bone and all, his powerful jaw muscles making quick work of the scrumptiousness.

As the Shawn goblin got to his feet, he saw the light leave the woman's eyes. Her body went limp and she crumpled to the carpeting. The goblin cursed his brother having wanted the kill. But he quickly got over his displeasure at realizing they had more work to do.

The Eric goblin continued to eat, scooping out chunks of sinew and flesh, filling its mouth. The woman's upper back was a pit of gore.

The copper scent of blood was rich in the air, causing the Shawn goblin to salivate more. His green fluids spilled from his maw. He was starving.

Unable to stop himself, he stuck a talon into the woman's left eye, scooped it out carefully and plopped it into his mouth. He did the same with the remaining eye, then pried open her jaw, dislocated it before ripping it free. With the tongue hanging freely, the Shawn goblin yanked it out. Licking his chops, he sucked the slippery meal into his mouth like a wet noodle. Tongues were becoming his favorite of all flesh, and although he had three so far, he looked forward to many more.

Finally, the Shawn goblin got control of his cravings and hopped onto the woman's back, his brother neck-deep into it. The Shawn goblin pulled him up, the Eric goblin's face smeared with bits of flesh and bone. He swatted the smaller goblin and sent him sailing off the woman and onto the floor.

The Eric goblin sat up and hissed, ready to fight when the Shawn goblin reminded him why they were there. The Eric goblin cursed, but agreed that they needed to move.

Together, they went out into the lobby and dragged the man's corpse into the back room. The lobby floor was a bloody mess, but moving the body was a good idea. All morsels of flesh were eaten and all that was left were the bloodstains. Humans were stupid creatures and the goblins knew no one would think to call the police. The bloodstains would be seen as a spilled beverage and nothing more. It was early in the morning. People wouldn't be coming to the lobby for a few more hours. They would be fine.